Virgin's Daddy: A Billionaire Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “I’ve missed you,” I say to him. “I’m sorry things are so weird right now.”

  He glances away. “Why’d you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Get pregnant. By that… person.”

  I frown and shake my head. “I didn’t meant to get pregnant. And I like Gavin… I like him a lot. He makes me happy.”

  “Still.” Peter looks back at me and I think he might be pleading with me. “The family comes over everything. You know that.”

  “They were going to marry me off to Milo,” I say softly. “Doesn’t what I want count at all?”

  “No,” Peter says firmly. “It doesn’t count for any of us. You know that. And you’re still turning your back on us.”

  “I’m not,” I say. “I’m not turning my back at all. Father is forcing me to leave.”

  “If you got rid of that… thing, you could stay.”

  I stare at him, shocked. How could Peter, my loving brother, say something like that to me?

  “It’s my baby,” I say flatly.

  “It’s a mistake.” He stares at me again with that blank expression. “Come on. Father’s waiting.”

  Peter opens the doors and steps back out into the hall. I watch him for a second then follow, biting back my tears.

  I won’t freaking cry. I won’t give them the satisfaction.

  But that moment back there, that was the end. He was my last hope. Part of me hoped that Peter was still somehow on my side, despite everything, and that he’d make it all okay. He used to do that all the time when I fought with Michael, back when we were kids.

  We’re not kids anymore. And Peter isn’t my brother.

  “Go right in,” Peter says as we reach my father’s study. I don’t look at him as he walks past me and disappears back into the apartment.

  Gavin takes my hand again. “You okay?” he whispers. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing,” I answer. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Gavin frowns but doesn’t argue. I open the doors and we step into my father’s office.

  Hans Tillman looks up as we enter. He’s sitting behind his desk just like last time. We walk straight in and sit down in the chairs in front of his desk like it’s some business meeting. He arches his fingers in front of him and looks at me.

  “I’m glad you came,” he says.

  “I had no other choice.”

  He smiles a bit. “You always have a choice, Sadie.”

  “Well, here I am. Let’s talk.”

  “I don’t feel like dragging this out anymore, so I’m going to get right to the point.” Father looks at Gavin and smiles a bit. “You’re hurting right now. I know that. You’re angry with me and my family, and your business isn’t doing so hot. Am I right?”

  Gavin hesitates then nods. “You’re right.”

  “You probably want to fight this,” father says.

  “I do,” Gavin confirms.

  “Here’s what I’ll offer. If Sadie accepts a complete and utter separation from the Tillman family, including changing her surname to something else, then I will back off your businesses and leave the two of you alone. Provided you never enter into our lives again.”

  Gavin stares at my father then looks at me. “I’d turn him down right now if I were you,” he says. “But it’s your choice.”

  I stare at my father, at the lines on his face, at the wrinkles forming. He looks older than he did a month ago, somehow frailer. I don’t know why but I suddenly see him as the man he’s always been, a mean and spiteful man, but not as my father. That façade is gone now, and he’s just Hans Tillman.

  That makes what I say next easy.

  “Okay.”

  Both men look at me. Gavin seems sad, but not surprised, while my father seems genuinely shocked.

  “Okay?” he asks. “You agree to all of my terms?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I want to leave this family. I don’t want your money. If I fought, it would just be out of spite, but I’m done with that. I don’t want to be like you anymore. So I’ll sign any documents you want and I’ll change my name, as long as you leave us alone just as we’ll leave you alone.”

  Hans Tillman stares at me for a second then nods slowly. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t seem triumphant. In fact, he just seems tired.

  “Very well,” he says. “It’ll all be in writing. I’ll have my lawyers send over the paperwork as soon as possible.”

  “Good,” I say. “Are we done here?”

  He hesitates before nodding. “We’re done here.”

  “Have a good life, Hans,” I say, standing. He watches me, but doesn’t answer.

  Gavin takes my hand and we leave the office without another word. I manage to make it out into the elevator before I start crying.

  “It’s okay,” Gavin whispers. “It’s okay. It’s over now.” He pulls me in close and holds me as we sink back down toward the street.

  “I just want you to know, I’m not crying about what happened back there,” I say as we finally reach the lobby. I get myself together as we walk across the marble floor. “I’m really not.”

  “Why are you crying, then?” he asks me, holding my hand as we step out into the warm city afternoon.

  “I’m sad for the person that I used to be,” I say. “I’m sad for that naïve girl. But I’m really, really happy that this is what happened. I’m happy it’s with you.”

  He smiles at me and kisses me softly. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  I follow him as we walk down the sidewalk. “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”

  We pass by familiar shops, restaurants, and churches. This was my neighborhood once, although it’s not anymore. I’ll miss parts of it and won’t miss other parts, but it’ll always be important to me.

  We walk a few blocks and ahead I can see the park rising up in the middle of all the concrete. He strides up to the streetlight that I used to stand under when he’d come pick me up after I snuck out. I join him there, smiling a little bit.

  “This is familiar,” I say.

  “It wasn’t so long ago that you stood there, waiting for me,” he says. “You risked a lot for that.”

  “I didn’t see it that way.”

  “Maybe,” he says.

  “I just wanted to be happy. And I am now.”

  “Well, there’s one thing I’m happy about. And it’s that your father wants you to change your name.”

  I sigh and shake my head. “It’s so petty. But I guess I get to make up my own surname, which is kind of cool, right?”

  He nods. “If that’s what you want. But I have a better idea.”

  My heart starts hammering in my chest and I feel dizzy as Gavin drops to one knee in front of me.

  “Sadie, I told you I want to start a family with you. And I want to do it the right way. I want this to be real.”

  “Gavin,” I say, but can’t find any other words.

  “I’m glad you have to change your last name, because I want you to take mine.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small black box. He flips it open, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring. “Sadie, will you marry me?”

  I stare at him in total shock. I didn’t know he wanted to get married. I always assumed he thought marriage was impossible, or that he just didn’t want to do it. But as he kneels down in front of me, holding out that beautiful ring, I know this is what I’ve been waiting for all my life.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  He takes my hand and slides on the ring. It fits perfectly, which shouldn’t surprise me. Gavin doesn’t do anything halfway.

  He stands and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “I love you, Sadie girl,” he says.

  “I love you too,” I answer, then I get up on my tiptoes so that I can whisper in his ear. “Daddy.”

  He crushes my mouth with a kiss and joy spreads through my whole body.

  In one day, I lost one family, bu
t I gained another. I’m going to be Sadie Waller, forever and ever. We’ll raise our child together, and I’ll be happy and free. Finally, I’ll be happy and free.

  I lose myself in the kiss and I find myself with the man that I love.

  24

  Sadie

  One Year Later

  “Hold still!”

  I giggle as I pull off Joanie’s diaper. “Stinky,” I say.

  Joanie squirms as I clean her off and put on a fresh diaper. I pick her up and kiss her. “All better,” I say.

  “How’s my little poop machine?”

  I turn to Gavin and grin at him. “She’s healthy, that’s for sure.”

  “Give her over.” He reaches out and I hand Joanie off. Gavin laughs and cuddles her close, and Joanie giggles and looks around.

  He carries her out into the living room and I follow. It’s so quiet in our neighborhood. Ever since we moved out of the city and into the suburbs, into this gorgeous little estate right on the edge of town, I’ve had to get used to how calm things are.

  But I love it. I love our new house and our little baby. Gavin has slowly been hiring some staff to help out, and I’ve been making friends with some young moms in the area. I took up painting and joined a book club, though Joanie takes up most of my time.

  “Can’t complain, right?” Gavin remarks as I join him on the couch.

  “Sure can’t,” I agree. He’s been saying that a lot lately, which only makes me so happy.

  After my father sent over the papers and I signed away my rights to the Tillman fortune, we got married almost right away. I took Gavin’s name, officially making me Sadie Waller, and I never looked back. We don’t speak to my family, as part of the agreement, and my father stopped attacking Gavin’s businesses.

  Since then, things have been incredible. The pregnancy was hard but good. I felt productive every single day, growing Joanie inside of me. And now that we’re a family, I feel more fulfilled than I ever have before.

  Gavin leans over and kisses me softly. “You look gorgeous today, you know.”

  I grin at him. “Again already?”

  He shrugs, giving me a look. “Marcia is coming soon.”

  “In a half hour.”

  “I can wait. Can you?”

  I laugh and kiss him a little bit. That part of our relationship hasn’t changed at all. Sex is a constant with us, almost every single day if we can. That intimacy makes me so happy, in a way that I can barely describe. Joanie makes things harder, but we hired Marcia to come every afternoon and help out for a little bit while we have some much-needed private time.

  Our relationship has changed in other ways, though. We’re closer now. We visit his old neighborhood all the time, and we see Chuck pretty often. He even comes out to visit us in our “suburban wasteland” as he likes to call it. But he’s a good godfather and uncle, so I can’t complain.

  Sometimes, I miss my brothers, even Michael. I wish they could be in Joanie’s life. I wish Joanie could have grandparents as well, but it doesn’t matter. She’s going to get so much love from me and Gavin that she’ll never know the difference.

  Gavin passes me Joanie and stands up. “I’m going to go shower,” he says. “I expect you in there as soon as Marcia shows up. Understood?”

  I laugh and nod. “Yes, Daddy.”

  He kisses me softly again, then disappears back upstairs. I hold Joanie up and look at her.

  “You can do whatever you want in life,” I say softly. “Okay, honey? You’ll be happy. I promise.”

  She just gazes back at me, but doesn’t say a word.

  I used to be one of the heirs to the Tillman family fortune, but not anymore. I used to have a social position and I was a member of a very well-respected family. I had power and wealth and I don’t miss any of it, not even a little bit.

  I’d give it all up. I’d even give up all of Gavin’s money if I had to. I don’t want a single dime if that means I can’t be free to do what I want. I never want to be part of a family that won’t let Joanie do whatever she wants and be whoever she wants to be.

  Gavin takes care of me and Joanie. He provides everything we could possibly need and more. He makes me happy. Every day feels like it’s better than the last, all because I have Gavin in my life.

  I’m so lucky. I’m so happy I got pregnant with Joanie and I’m so happy that I left my old life behind. Because my new life is so much better than I ever could have guessed.

  I don’t need to be stuck doing one thing, forced into a life I don’t want. I can make my own family and my own world.

  All I need are Gavin and Joanie, and I’m happy, forever, for the rest of my life. Nothing will change that, and I know that Gavin will always be there for both of us. Every time I think about him, I can’t help but smile.

  I just can’t wait for Marcia to get here so that I can go upstairs and let my Daddy make my body feel good.

  Kissing the Killer: A Bad Boy Romance

  Prologue: Emma

  They say killers can’t love.

  They say killers don’t feel a thing as they move through a room like an angel of death, their guns blazing, bodies dropping all around them. The hit men that work for the Russians and for the Italians don’t care about life or death, only cold hard cash.

  He was one of those angels. Instead of wings, he had thick, roped muscles and black tattoos all along his perfect skin. His cocky smile said I owed him my life, and maybe a little bit more.

  I never wanted to be owned, not by anyone, not for any reason. My father thought he owned me, and all I got from that was a roof over my head and a black eye every other week.

  My father was a stupid man. He was a member of the mob, but not an important one. The only thing he loved more than drinking was gambling, and he owed thousands of dollars that he couldn’t pay to bookies all over Chicago.

  It didn’t surprise me when the angels of death came for him with lead and steel. They killed my father and were going to kill me until he changed his mind.

  “Look what we have here,” he said to me later, after he’d dragged me from my home and locked me in a closet. Fear and something else lanced through my chest. “You’ve got lips that make my fucking dick hard.”

  He was crude and so cocky. He was good with his hands and with a gun, and he thought that made him unstoppable.

  But I could see through him.

  “I’m taking you with me,” he’d said earlier, his voice deep and soft in my ear. “Unless you want to die here.”

  I hadn’t had a choice, of course. I either let him take me or his partner put a bullet in my head.

  I knew what he wanted from me. He wasn’t pretending it was anything but my body.

  “I’m going to make you glad I took you,” he whispered to me days later, after so much had happened, his hands moving down my skin. “You’ll be begging me to sink my thick cock between your legs before this is done with.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. I could barely speak, my body rolling with desire and anger.

  I wasn’t going to be owned by anyone, not ever again. I didn’t care if people wanted the both of us dead.

  I didn’t care that he was the only one who wanted to see me alive.

  My angel of death. He sent chills down my spine. “I’m going to taste you,” he said. “I’m going to slide my tongue along that clit until you can’t breathe.”

  I wanted to feel him, his muscles, his dangerous smile. I wanted everything he promised.

  But I wasn’t his. I wasn’t giving in, no matter how much I wanted to.

  I was going to escape from my angel of death if it was the last thing I did.

  1

  Brooks

  It was supposed to be an easy fucking job. We go in, kill the old, drunk, Russian asshole, and then we get the fuck out of there.

  Nothing I hadn’t done a hundred times before, maybe a thousand.

  I parked the car at the end of the block. It was a quiet neighborhood, especially at three in
the morning. Nobody was moving around and the houses were all dark.

  “Nice spot,” Abram commented.

  “Not bad,” I grunted. “Which house does the old man live in?”

  Abram nodded toward the end of the block. “Last on the left.”

  I killed the engine. “We got a plan?”

  He shrugged. “We’ll break in the back, kill the guy, and then get back home.”

  “Works for me.”

  I pushed open the car door and then checked the gun tucked into my jeans. I cocked back the slide and chambered a round and made sure the silencer was on tight. Abram was behind me, checking his own weapon.

  He nodded at me and then headed down the block. I followed behind him, keeping my head on a swivel.

  I’d done this hundreds of times before. We were hit men for the Italian mob, angels of death working for the Barone family. I had more blood on my hands than I could ever hope to wash off, and mercy wasn’t something I had ever thought about before.

  I was young when I joined the Barone family. When I was five, my father ran off with some cheap stripper he’d met downtown, and that only pushed my mother deeper into the bottom of a bottle.

  Mom died by the time I was thirteen, drank herself to death in less than ten years, though she’d been warming up for that drinking marathon for years before that. After Dad left, Mom lost her will to live completely, and she did nothing but drink and drink vast amounts of cheap fucking liquor.

  One day I came home and found her tipped over in the bathroom, vomit leaking from her mouth. I’d never forget that image, not for as long as I lived. It didn’t matter how much death and violence I saw; I’d never outrun the image of my mother dead in the bathroom.

  The state took me in after that. I entered the foster system, but that shit didn’t sit right with me. I was in and out of care homes, the good people at the adoption services trying hard to find me a permanent place to live, but I was a troubled kid. I got into fights, I stole shit, I pushed back against my guardians. I did everything in my power to raise fucking hell, because I didn’t know any better.