His Surprise Baby

by Valentine, Layla

  “God,” I mutter, and she breathily repeats the sentiment.

  I begin to slowly move inside her, trying to keep a slow and steady pace to start. To my surprise, she’s quickly being drawn to a place of near hysteria, raking her nails across the sheets and moaning beautifully for me.

  No longer holding anything back, I angle myself just so and begin to pound into her with all the force of my intense lust. She bounces slightly with each thrust, a tiny squeak erupting from her lips each time I hilt my cock inside of her. She begins to clench around me, and I can tell she’s close.

  I lean in, ghosting my lips to her ear. I move faster, losing myself in the passion of the moment.

  “You’re mine, little maid,” I hiss, bottoming out inside of her a final time.

  “God, yes,” she screams, toes curling as she begins to tightly squeeze me with her inner walls.

  I spill my load deep inside her, a sense of satisfaction washing over me as she writhes beneath me.

  It’s some time before she’s able to gather herself enough to make her way out of my apartment, saying she’d rather sleep in her own bed. I can tell she’s afraid of growing too close to me. All the same, when I ask her to return the next morning, she offers me a coy smile.

  Little does she know that she’s going to see what I use those handcuffs for, next time. Not to mention the maid outfit I ordered…

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte

  When I agreed to be Dillon’s surrogate, I’ll admit that I didn’t really know what I was signing up for. The first night was wonderful, and the week following finds me spending almost every moment in his arms. He takes the week off of work, explaining that he’ll be away on business for the majority of the next few months.

  He wants to spend as much time as possible inside of me, filling me to the brim. I know how desperately he wants me to conceive, and truthfully, I can’t deny how much I enjoy feeling him nestled deep within me. I’ve had my share of sex, but nothing like this.

  While he’s been nothing but kind and warm, I can’t ignore the knowledge that this isn’t a relationship. As much as it may feel like it, and as much as it seems like we’re going through the motions, I’m just the oven for his prized little bun. It’s a feeling that’s difficult to shake at times, but while I’m in his arms, I can at least pretend that there’s something more between us.

  It’s strange how deeply he seemed to desire me when I was ice cold, but now that I’m receptive to him, his feelings have dampened. When we’re not screwing, he seems miles away. There’s a distant look in his eyes, something almost haunted.

  I know he’s going to China for a business trip, but every time I try to get more information about it, he clams up. I can only suspect it’s another ruthless takeover, and he simply doesn’t feel comfortable admitting it. I can’t say I blame him, there. I still hold some resentment regarding his treatment of people throughout his business career.

  All the same, when it comes time for him to go, I’m reluctant to set him free from my arms. He seems even more reluctant to leave. I brush a hand through his dark hair, rubbing the pads of my fingertips against the skin of his scalp. His eyes are closed, and it’s the most peaceful I’ve seen him look.

  However, his breathing shudders from time to time, and I can only wonder just what has him so bothered. With his personal jet making the preparations to leave at any moment, it’s now or never. I have to find out what’s troubling him so deeply. I want him to know he can confide in me, even if we aren’t really a couple.

  “Dillon,” I murmur, and he peeks a single eye open. I offer him a faint smile, which he returns after a bit of hesitation. Biting the bullet, I plunge ahead. “Something is bothering you. I can tell. What does this trip involve that has you so shaken?”

  He stiffens, and I can tell his immediate reaction is to draw away. I hold tight to him, however, continuing the soothing motion of my fingers through his hair.

  “Please, Dillon. You know you can tell me anything,” I murmur.

  His expression turns briefly bitter, but he seems to settle into my grip.

  “It’s not the trip itself that is the problem,” he begins, picking at a loose thread on the robe I’m wearing.

  I hum quietly to let him know I’m listening, enjoying the few moments we have left together before he has to leave for a few months.

  “It’s…we’ve been trying really hard to conceive, haven’t we? I can’t bear to think I’m leaving you behind to pursue the very sort of venture that made you hate me,” he mutters, his jaw clenching against the tears that I know threaten to fall. As assertive and calculating as Dillon is, he’s a true softie at heart.

  Taking a moment to consider his words, I wonder just how much I mean to him. Is he only concerned that I’ll turn my back on him and take off with his child if the mood strikes me? I can’t help but think there’s more to his feelings than that, but maybe I’m just projecting. I have come to care quite deeply for him, after all.

  Deciding to set his mind at ease, I lean down and press my lips against his. He seems somewhat surprised by the sudden show of affection, and I try to pretend I’m not as flustered as I truly am. For all the sex we’ve been having, I’ve not really been affectionate aside from the truly intimate moments.

  “You’re worrying yourself over nothing. You’ll go on your trip, and maybe…maybe I’ll have some news for you before long. If you think I’m going to turn tail after all we’ve been through, you’re going to have to try much harder to get rid of me. I’m having this baby for you, and I hope we can remain friends after. I won’t deny I’ve not quite moved on from the past, but I’m trying. You should, too,” I say carefully.

  He remains silent, as if he’s not heard me. For a moment, I wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

  “I’ll miss you, Charlotte,” he whispers.

  I find myself tearing up at the thought of him leaving, laughter spilling past my lips at just how dramatic we’re being. He turns to face me, considering my expression for a moment before moving to close the distance between our lips. I brace myself, my breath catching in my throat. If I can just pretend for a moment longer…

  A sudden vibrating sound jolts him away from me, and the spell is broken. He curses under his breath, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He swipes the screen, staring at it with a faint air of melancholy.

  “I have to go,” he mutters.

  I exhale the breath I’d been holding, forcing a cheerful smile. He glances towards me, and before I can speak, he kisses me tenderly one last time.

  “Take care of yourself, all right? If you receive any news, call me immediately,” he says awkwardly as he pulls away, obviously flustered.

  I can’t swallow my chuckle, reaching out to caress his cheek.

  “I’ll miss you too, you know,” I confess.

  His lips curl into a delighted smile, but another vibration from his phone draws him away from me. My lips part, and I speak without thinking.

  “I lo—” I begin, cutting myself off in the middle of my sentence. He seems not to have heard me, glancing towards me with an adorable tilt of his head.

  “What’s that?” he asks quickly, watching me for half a second before shuffling around to gather the last few items he’ll need for his travels.

  I feel my cheeks grow aflame with an intensity that could rival the sun, and I avert my eyes from him. I can’t believe I’d nearly slipped up like that. I can’t believe that I would say such a thing to him. Most of all, I can’t believe that it’s true.

  “I’ll, uh… I’ll call you with any news, of course. Be safe,” I stutter, rising from his bed.

  He’s letting me keep his extra key, insisting that I can stay in his apartment if I begin to feel that my current home is too unsafe. Though I can’t tell him as much, I plan to remain for at least a little while after he’s gone. I want to breathe him in for as long as possible, to surround myself with the essence of Dillon Bradshaw.

  O
blivious to my thoughts, he offers me a final smile before walking out the door. I hear him call out a quick goodbye, and as I hear him slip out of the apartment, I feel tears well up in my eyes. How have I managed to get myself into such a mess? What was I thinking, agreeing to this strange situation? Who will I turn to when Dillon’s had his fun?

  Shaking off the treacherous path my mind is taking, I allow myself to recline in his bed for a moment. A short nap, and then I’ll go home. I don’t plan to spend his entire absence surrounded by reminders of the man. That would be crazy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Charlotte

  A month later finds me in his master bathroom, staring wide-eyed at the pregnancy test in my hand. I’ve been unable to banish Dillon from my thoughts, and it seems that for the next eight months or so, I’ll always have a piece of him with me. Uncertainty grips me for a long moment, and I’m not quite sure what to do with the positive test in my hands.

  I withdraw my phone from my pocket and take a picture of the stick. It’s not the same as getting to see it in person, but I hope that Dillon appreciates the sentiment. I send the photo to him, meandering through the penthouse as I settle in for the long haul. He has a personal doctor that he wants me to see, so I suppose I’ll just wait for some sort of direction once he receives the message.

  I’m not left waiting long, as moments later my phone begins to buzz, dozens of times in rapid succession.

  I open the text menu to see Dillon having something of a fit via messages. The first few messages ask if I’m serious, then, as if the three-second pause had been too long, he sends a half-dozen more messages asking if I’m all right. As I move to answer the texts, my phone begins to play the distinct tone I’ve set for the billionaire businessman. Bracing myself, I swipe the phone and hold it to my ear.

  “I’m on my way,” he says immediately, and I chuckle in disbelief.

  “You can’t just blow off your business trip, can you?” I ask, and he huffs rather melodramatically. I listen to him as he seems to rummage through some paperwork, speaking in a Chinese dialect to someone.

  “I told them I’ll be back. It’s only a fourteen-hour flight,” he says dismissively, though I’m almost certain I can hear angry shouting in the background.

  I part my lips to argue, but he’s speaking in a rush before I get the chance.

  “I’ll be there around ten tomorrow morning. I’ll call my doctor and have him schedule us. See you soon,” he says quickly, hanging up the phone.

  I sputter incoherently for a moment before realizing he hung up. The reception was so poor, I could barely even hear him.

  I draw my cellphone away from my ear, glancing towards the clock. Well, seeing as Dillon would probably stroke out over the idea of me venturing into the big bad world today, I decide to watch a few soap operas on his enormous flat-screen TV. There’s something a bit strange about seeing every blemish in extreme high definition, but there’s not much else I feel like doing. It’s been a long day of throwing up into the toilet and finally working up the courage to do the test.

  I drift off in the middle of my favorite show, lost to the world until the front door bursts open late the next morning. I jolt upright, panicking for a moment. I feel strong arms wrap around me, yanking me off my feet and holding me close.

  “I’m going to be a dad!” the intruder booms, and I relax into his arms upon realizing that it’s anything but a crazed murderer.

  Dillon shakes with barely-repressed emotion, and I move to shift out of his grip. He only tightens his hold on me, adjusting me so he’s carrying me in the bridal position.

  He sweeps me away to his bedroom, where he gently kisses along the column of my neck. Startled yet thrilled, I open my robe to allow him access to my breasts. Instead, he simply settles his cheek against the still-flat plane of my stomach.

  I don’t want to ruin the moment, so I remain silent as he simply revels in thoughts of the future. He’s going to be a father, and though it will be unlikely that I’ll get the chance to know my child, I’ll be a mother, nonetheless.

  “Kiss me, Dillon,” I request softly, reddening as he tilts his head to look up at me.

  Smiling, he presses a kiss just above my navel. Pouting, I give him a slight shove. Undeterred by my irritation, he draws close to me and presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

  “I don’t know where I would be without you,” he murmurs.

  I smile weakly, brushing a hand through his hair. As much as he means to me, and as kind as he’s being, I know he doesn’t love me. I guide his head back to my stomach, soothing us both by gently scratching the back of his neck. He groans gratefully, getting comfortable against me.

  Apparently exhausted from the trip, he drifts off into a peaceful slumber. Well, we’ve got a busy few months ahead of us.

  * * *

  The first doctor’s appointment goes swimmingly, though we learn very little. Claiming to know a more advanced facility, Dillon schedules me for routine appointments at the new practice as well as a 12-week ultrasound with a separate clinic. I give it very little thought, but he is thrilled. As much as I expect the time to pass agonizingly, the ultrasound appointment comes around remarkably quickly.

  I’m in bed enjoying a short snooze. Dillon has gone to pick up some snacks, tending to the cravings I’ve been having. He’s already a good father, and I can’t deny that I’ve considered the fact that he would be a good husband. I try to ignore those thoughts, however. I find myself exhausted since finding out I’m pregnant, though I suppose it’s mostly psychological. I simply can’t get enough sleep.

  I hear Dillon step through the front door and I roll onto my side with a soft groan. I squeeze my eyes closed, holding a pillow over my head.

  “Come on, to the doctor’s office we go,” he announces grandly, scooping me up and marching towards the door.

  “Wait, Dillon! I need to get dressed, brush my hair and—” I cut myself off with a squeak as he carries me out of the apartment.

  I toss the pillow through the door before he can close it, groaning dramatically as he steps into the elevator, which stops at each lower-down floor to pick up more people. I can’t deny the awkwardness of the situation, but I suppose his excitement is really sweet—and somewhat infectious as well.

  “I guess this makes it official. You’re going to be a daddy,” I whisper.

  He bounces on his heels, looking as if he can barely keep himself from announcing it to the whole elevator.

  Once we’re on the ground floor, Dillon continues to carry me as if I’m incapable of walking on my own. I might be offended in any other case, but I find myself rather touched by the doting attention. Unsurprisingly, Milo waits outside with the limousine, opening the backseat door to allow us to settle inside.

  Dillon keeps me tightly in his grasp, and I can’t help but take advantage of the situation. I settle close against him, inhaling the scent I’ve come to adore so much. I caress his jaw, enjoying the slight bit of stubble I feel.

  “You should grow a beard,” I suggest idly, and he laughs in response.

  “Would that add to my sexy dad appeal?” he asks in faux seriousness.

  I roll my eyes, not answering as I allow my eyes to flutter closed. I don’t know how I survived without him for the month he was absent. I can’t stand the thought of knowing he’ll have to go back for the rest of his business trip, once things have settled somewhat.

  “C’mon now. The doctor is eager to see us,” he murmurs gently.

  I blink my eyes open, the sun nearly blinding in my drowsy state as we get out of the limo and walk into the clinic.

  “Why couldn’t we see the same doctor?” I inquire idly.

  The interior of the doctor’s office is much easier on the eyes, but there’s something about Dillon’s comforting presence that makes me want to close my eyes and drift away. I’m only half-listening to him as he explains, naming off some unspeakably large amount of money he shelled out for a ‘better suited’ doctor.


  I jolt upright in alarm as he places me on a rather cold cot. I whine softly, looking imploringly at him. His cheeks flush, and he gestures to another man standing in the room.

  “Miss Law, you must be the surrogate. You two are awfully cozy, aren’t you?” he says with a warm smile, stepping towards me. He mentions the ultrasound that he’ll have a nurse perform to check the health of the baby. I simply smile and nod.

  A short time later, the nurse steps in and preps me for the ultrasound.

  “Oh, my,” she says softly, glancing towards me and Dillon.

  Dillon’s eyes widen in alarm, and he lurches towards the machine even though he has no means of reading the output. All I can make out are some vague shapes on the screen.

  “Is the baby okay?” he inquires nervously.

  The nurse laughs, waving him off.

  “Yes, Mr. Bradshaw. All three of them are in perfect health, from what I’m able to tell,” she placates, adjusting the ultrasound probe. “Here we are,” she announces, gesturing towards the screen.

  She moves the probe, but I can still only make out indistinct shapes. Dillon’s eyes are bulging nearly from his skull, and for a moment I can only wonder what’s wrong. Then, the nurse’s words finally register.

  Three?!

  The ultrasound continues, the nurse pointing out each baby’s tiny beating heart on the ultrasound screen. My breath catches in my throat, and as she offers me a towel to wipe down with, it’s all I can do to keep from fainting. Dillon doesn’t seem to be in much better shape, looking at me with bewilderment in his gaze.

  How on earth did this happen?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dillon

  For a moment, I’m certain that I’ve misheard her. It simply can’t be. Three children? I didn’t sign up for three children! I only wanted one heir.