by Jada Sioux
Gwyneth was just about to move on when the door flew open and Damien Thatch strolled in, his hair a bit wind-swept and his light shirt curving against the bulge of his chest. The men were about to jump up in greeting but Damien motioned for them to stay seated.
“Don’t mind me. Please continue, Gwyneth,” he said, and Kiara saw the little waiver of joy that went through Gwyneth at the fact that Damien remembered her by name.
Damien strolled around the table and sat down right next to Kiara, though there was an open seat next to Eliza as well. As much as she didn’t want to read into that, Kiara couldn’t help but smile a bit to herself. Take that, icy bitch!
“You look sexy, sugar. What I wouldn’t give to spread you across this conference table and just fuck you right here and now,” Damien said, leaning in and whispering in her ear.
A blush spread on Kiara’s cheeks like wildfire, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. She could feel Damien’s blue eyes rolling over every inch of her, and suddenly she was very glad that she’d worn the emerald green dress that made her breasts look fantastic and that complimented her complexion just right.
“Shh, someone could hear you,” Kiara murmured, throwing nervous looks around.
Gwyneth was engaged in the presentation, and most everyone’s eyes were on her as well. Save for Eliza’s calculating greens that were glancing at Damien and her.
“Let them,” he said, and his words made heat throb through her veins.
Without missing a beat, Damien put his hand on her thigh, squeezing it just a little. He turned his attention to the screen, leaving Kiara squirming under his touch. His coarse fingertips tracked patterns on her skin, peeking under the edge of her dress just enough to make her want to moan out loud. Her breathing became quicker as she sat there, stewing in his attention, listening to Gwyneth rattle off figures and numbers she knew by heart.
Damien’s hand crept higher, dipping between her thighs. She tried to clench her legs together but he wouldn’t allow her to, and when his fingertips reached the silky fabric of her panties, she couldn’t pretend to deny him any longer. With slow, casual movements, he pulled her panties aside and dipped his fingers into her hot sex, spreading the wet folds and making her have to fight tooth and nail to keep from screaming.
He teased her mercilessly, making Kiara shake, trying to keep control of herself and to make sure that no one noticed what the brazen, bad boy billionaire was doing to her under the table while fifteen other people sat around them. Kiara closed her eyes, her knuckles training as she hung on to the edge of the table. It was too much. He was too fucking much. Kiara willed Gwyneth to finish faster, and when she looked at Damien, his expression betrayed nothing but utter fascination for what Gwyneth was saying – like he wasn’t wrist deep in Kiara’s pussy at the same time.
He pressed two fingers into her, and she had to swallow a whimper that fought hard to come up. His palm grazed against her clit, and she knew that if he rubbed his fingers over it, she wouldn’t be able to control herself any longer. That damnable man. He knew exactly what to do with her, and she couldn’t help but love every second of it.
Just when Kiara thought she couldn’t take any more of it, Gwyneth brought up the last slide of the first presentation, turning towards the listeners with a dazzling smile.
“Okay, I think it is time for a little break before we continue. I hope there are no objections!”
At that, Damien pulled back his hand and shifted Kiara’s panties back into place, like nothing had happened at all. She was left gasping and a bit disoriented by the roaring need that was now living within her, desperate and hungry for his touch.
Her eyes were a bit hazed over as she looked up and was met with Damien’s wicked, predatory grin that she both loved and loathed at the same time. Damn him all the way to hell. But all the heat was immediately sucked out of her blood as she caught sight of Eliza’s pointed and irritated expression. Kiara took a deep breath and straightened her dress a little.
“You can’t do that, Damien,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling heavily.
“I just did,” he replied casually. She almost expected him to lick his fingers clean.
Before she could quip back at him, the sickening smell of cream cheese filled her nostrils again. Damien’s fingers had distracted her from the ominous twisting in her stomach for a moment too long, and suddenly, it became very clear that she wasn’t going to manage to sit through the meeting with a straight face any longer.
Kiara quickly excused herself and jumped up, rushing out of the conference room without another look at Damien. Her eyes watered as she clamped her hand over her lips, half running, half walking to the bathroom. She burst into the tastefully decorated, wood and stone bathroom and picked the first stall she could reach. She barely had time to close the stall door behind her before she knelt down and what little she had in her stomach came rushing out.
A single tear streaked down her cheek as she gagged, paying no heed to the clicking noise of expensive high heels strolling into the bathroom. Kiara wiped her mouth, trying to stop the dry heaving. The floor was cool under her knees, and she had to wonder what on earth she had done to deserve such a dizzying array of happenings.
First, Damien driving her absolutely out of her mind with the way he toyed with her with his fingers, and then having all that pleasure ripped away from her by an upset stomach – it seemed a little unfair. Kiara flushed, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she got up and exited the stall. She felt completely worn out, like someone had punched her in the stomach, so seeing Eliza’s cold eyes staring back at her came as absolutely no surprise whatsoever.
Of course she has to be here. How else could this day go, Kiara mused darkly.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled, angling past Eliza and getting to one of the sinks.
Eliza was wearing a white dress that showed off her impeccable figure and those long, long legs of hers. She was leaning against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest and a severe look on her face. Kiara paid her no heed as she pooled water in her cupped palms and drank, swishing the water around in her mouth before spitting it out. Eliza simply stood there, staring at Kiara with a look on her face that read both disgust and mortification. It was the last thing that Kiara needed – that bitch standing there, judging here.
“Can I help you?” she finally asked, irritation ripe in her words.
“You’ve got some nerve,” Eliza said, her brows furrowing.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“If you think you can just use him like that, you’ve got another thing coming. I’ve seen gold diggers like you before, and I hope that you understand that I won’t let you do that to Damien. Not while I’m around.”
Eliza almost spat the words out. Her tone was chilling, almost sharp enough to peel meat from bone. Kiara stood up, noting how ridiculous the two of them looked together – Eliza with her rich perfection and Kiara with her hair disheveled and her eyes red from throwing up. It was almost comically sad, in a way. She steeled herself, her eyes narrowing.
“I have no idea what you’re on about, Eliza, but I don’t appreciate your tone. The last thing I care about is Damien’s money, and even if I was a gold-digger, I doubt you could do anything about it.” Kiara crossed her arms over her chest, subconsciously mirroring Eliza’s agitated pose.
She wasn’t going to back down. The day had been awkward enough without having to deal with another crying fit brought on by little Miss Perfect here.
Kiara scrunched her nose a little. She knew that getting into a screaming match with one of the top executives of the company she was trying to woo wasn’t exactly the smartest thing she could do, but dammit, Eliza could go to hell if she thought that the right time to come and pick on Kiara was when she had just been gagging over the toilet bowl.
Eliza huffed, pushing herself away from the stone counter top and facing Kiara head on. She looked like a pissed off snake, but for once, Kiara di
dn’t feel like a scared fluffy bunny when confronted with her. Fine, maybe she was a little bit intimidated, but she definitely wasn’t going to take Eliza’s shit as easily as last time.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Only a whore like you could trick Damien into getting her pregnant for his money. I know women like you and, believe me when I tell you, he’s only going to hate you for getting knocked up. If you think you have him twisted around your little finger, just wait until I get through with you. Does he know?”
Kiara couldn’t hear a word Eliza said after the word ‘pregnant’. Her vision blurred and her ears hummed as the world grinded to a halt around her, only Eliza’s spiteful words and angry scowl penetrating the haze.
Pregnant? PREGNANT!? No, I can’t be! We used protection. Every time! Unless… Kiara blanched, putting one hand on the counter to support herself.
That first night, when she thought she remembered the condom coming off or breaking once. Could it be?
No… Oh god, what have I done?!
Eliza’s frustrated sigh shook her from her revelry, and Kiara looked at Eliza, her hazel eyes welling with tears in earnest now.
“Don’t give me that doe-eyed look. You don’t fool me. So he doesn’t know yet?” Eliza demanded.
Kiara wasn’t sure why she was responding at all, her actions more reactions than calculated moves. She shook her head dumbly. Eliza visibly relaxed.
“Good, then we can clean this mess up. Mark my words, if he finds out that you’re pregnant, he won’t want to have anything to do with you.
You’ll just be that black woman who had his bastard baby. He’ll destroy you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep this to yourself. Don’t tell him. I’ll fix this.” Eliza’s words turned buttery now, speaking as if she was a concerned friend. Kiara half-expected Eliza to hug her.
She wanted to ask what the other woman meant by ‘I’ll fix this’, but she couldn’t form the words. Instead, Eliza rattled off a few more threats before heading out of the bathroom, leaving Kiara standing there, stiff as a board and looking ahead blankly, completely dazed. She turned to face her reflection in the mirror. She looked scared, completely and utterly terrified. Kiara put a hand to her stomach, looking down.
This can’t be happening to me, she thought.
A part of her wanted to scream while the other half wanted to collapse to the floor crying. She wasn’t yet sure which side was going to win, but she did know that she was entirely unprepared for everything that was about to follow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kiara
The phone rung for about the fifteenth time that day, and for about the fifteenth time, Kiara ignored it. She reached a hand out from under the blanket and felt around for it, pushing the power button to deny the call.
I bet I know who it is, she thought glumly.
When she glanced out from under the blanket, her assumption was confirmed. Yup, Damien – relentless as always.
“You know, you can’t keep ignoring him forever, girl,” Tasha’s soft, purring voice said.
Kiara peeked out from under the duvet and gave Tasha a deathly glare.
“I can if I want to.”
“Well, maybe, but you should probably stop ignoring Gwyneth and Tessa, and all those other people who keep calling from the office, wondering where you are.”
Tasha licked a spoonful of ice cream, holding the tub in her hands and thrusting it invitingly in Kiara’s direction. With a defeated sigh, Kiara threw the soft blanket off of her and sat up, looking like the shadow of a once striking, curvy woman. She was pretty sure she’d lost weight over the last few days. She threw up whenever she even thought about eating or smelled anything cooking. Kiara wasn’t even entirely sure if it was because of the pregnancy or if her nerves were just getting the best of her – but whatever it was, she was literally getting sick of it.
She motioned towards Tasha, reaching out her hands to receive the ice cream from her. Double chocolate fudge. Tasha knew her well. Too well, maybe. There was another big spoon already waiting in the perfectly cold, creamy ice cream, and Kiara sunk it in without reservation. She took her first bite, and her eyes rolled back a bit in pleasure. Okay, that tasted good.
“See, a little bit of ice cream will fix just about everything. Do you want to tell me what that everything is or do I have to keep guessing?” Tasha asked, stealing a bite herself as well.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Kiara said, pushing a lock of hair out of her face.
Her usually carefully cared for and gorgeous weave was a mess from hiding out under the covers for four days, and Kiara was pretty sure that wasn’t the only thing out of order. She’d just been avoiding the mirror because she didn’t want to find out. Kiara was well and truly deep in some grade A self-pity and it was going to take more than just ice cream to shake her out of it – not that it didn’t help.
“Yeah you do. I’ve never seen you quite this… depressing.”
“Depressing? Pfft. That’s an awfully big word,” she said, snorting.
“Well, you’re an awfully sad sack right now,” Tasha bit back, maneuvering her spoon out of the way as Kiara tried to jab it out of her hand with hers.
“I am not.”
“Really? Sitting in your old Duke jersey, crying into a pillow for four days and throwing up every few hours. You don’t call that sad? Because I do. And the Kiara I know would too.”
Tasha licked her spoon clean, giving Kiara a knowing look. Kiara wanted to bite back with something witty, but all she could think about was how Eliza had told her that things would be ‘fixed’, effectively shutting down any rational thought.
“And now you won’t even call me on it?” Tasha scoffed, her expression changing to worried. “Kei, what’s going on? You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Tasha took Kiara’s hand, and it was all Kiara could do to keep from bursting into tears. She felt them brimming up already and shoved another mouthful of ice cream into her mouth.
“I can’t say anything,” she murmured through the ice cream. “It’s too horrible. You’d hate me.”
“I’ve known you for fifteen years. I couldn’t possibly hate you, no matter what you do. ‘Sides, without you, I’d be living in some shoebox apartment in the bad part of town, not in this relative lap of luxury,” Tasha said, smiling gently.
Tasha was right. They’d been friends since middle school and moved in together when Kiara got a job in Los Angeles. Tasha worked as a bartender in an upscale bar, but it was only by pooling their wages that they could afford a place that was even remotely livable. And Tasha had always been there for her, even when Kiara hadn’t exactly deserved it. The opposite was true as well, though, so they’d managed to keep their karmic debt to a minimum.
Kiara shoved the spoon into the tub and buried her face in her hands. She wasn’t sure if she could say what she wanted to say. She sure as hell couldn’t say it to herself, and she’d been trying to for four days. Even proof hadn’t been enough to make it really, really sink in.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?! Pregnant!? How? When! Oh my god, is it that billionaire guy? Damien What’s-His-Cock? It is, isn’t it… Oh, Kiara…”
Kiara listened to Tasha go through the plethora of emotions she’d been cycling through for the past four days all in the span of four seconds. Then, Tasha pulled her into a warm embrace and held her close, rocking her back and forth a little as those tears she’d been so valiantly fighting came flooding out.
“I’m so stupid,” Kiara sobbed, allowing the moment of weakness to take her.
“You’re no such thing, Kei. I mean, look at the upside. At least your rack is going to be phenomenal. I was wondering if you’d been sneaking plastic surgery behind my back. Damn, girl.”
Kiara pulled away from Tasha, laughing through the tears and wiping them away.
“That’s your first thought? That my tits will look better?!”
Tasha made a fa
ce, taking another scoop of ice cream and offering it to Kiara before biting at it herself.
“No. My first thought was that your mama is going to kill you if she hears about it, but the boobs thing came a close second. Does she know? Does he know?” Tasha asked, quirking a brow.
Kiara’s stomach cramped, and she couldn’t help but make a sour face. She should have already done both of those things but hadn’t got to either yet.
“No. Nobody knows. Just me, and you, and… Well, doesn’t matter.”
The thought of Eliza was bitter enough to scrape even the pleasant aftertaste of chocolate out of Kiara’s mouth. She shoved the spoon into the ice cream again and took a decisive bite – fuck Eliza. Kiara wiped the tears away with the ragged sleeve of her worn jersey, which had seen her through a fair amount of heartbreak.
“And you’re sure?”
“As sure as eight pregnancy tests can make me. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment for Thursday, but I think it’s pretty obvious at this point.”
“And what are you going to do?” Tasha asked carefully, pursing her lips at Kiara.
Hell if I know…
“What can I do?”
“A whole lot of things. Tell Richie Rich. Tell your mama. Get on prenatal vitamins, have the baby. Raise it. Give her up for adoption. Abortion…“
“No,” Kiara stopped Tasha, waving her spoon at her well-meaning roommate. “I’m not going to do that. I know it’s an option for plenty of women, but it isn’t for me. I made this mess. The least I can do is make sure my child doesn’t suffer because of it.”
Tasha looked sympathetic, but Kiara knew what she must have been thinking. Was she ready? Was this what she had been preparing for? For years, Kiara had been slaving away at her career in the hopes of one day being financially secure enough and with a nice guy by her side to have the big, supportive family she’d always dreamed of.
And instead, here she was, pregnant with a billionaire’s baby, hunted by his crazy ex and completely incapable of doing anything but feeling sorry for herself.
