Not Husband Material: Billionaire's Contract Series

by Violet Paige

  I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Not what I meant.” I kissed her firmly. “You’re trouble because instead of running out the door to catch my red eye, I’d like to take you over that desk right there. Fuck you once more? Twice?”

  Her eyes widened. “Shit.”

  I nodded. “Maybe I will.”

  I growled when she climbed into my lap. Her naked body was warm and soft.

  “I don’t want to be the reason you miss your flight.” She kissed my neck. “But I do. I want you to put me over the desk.” She purred. “What have you done to me? I’m saying all kinds of things I shouldn’t.”

  My cock twitched. It wouldn’t be long before it was hard and ready to go again. Not with a woman like Evie rubbing her tits against my chest.

  There were bigger problems though. I couldn’t stay in Newton Hills. Another day here was a complication I didn’t want to risk.

  I looked around the room. I spotted the laptop.

  “Is this where you write?” I asked.

  “Sometimes. I try to sneak down here when I can. And I stay late some nights.”

  “And you’ve never brought another man down here?”

  She chewed on her lip. “I guess you did hear that. You’re the first.”

  I squeezed her ass. It wasn’t any of my damn business. But I suddenly felt territorial. I didn’t want to picture her with another man. Not here. Not sharing the secrets she did with me tonight. It felt personal. Even though I knew I wasn’t worthy of her confidence. I wasn’t that guy. The wine portrayed me as someone I used to be.

  I motioned toward her computer. “What are you going to do with all those screenplays? You can’t let them go to waste.”

  She shrugged, running a finger over my bare chest. “Probably nothing. Oscar-worthy scripts that will never see the light of day.” She sighed.

  I stared at the ceiling. Her hand settled on my cock. I groaned when she circled her fingers around it. “Evie, I have to—”

  She layered a blanket on the cold floor and slid to her knees. Oh fuck.

  She worked my dick up and down. The instant her tongue touched the tip it was hard as the concrete she knelt upon. I was transfixed as her lips wrapped around the tip. In one swallow, she sucked me to the back of her throat.

  I wasn’t wrong. She was a vixen. A sex goddess on her knees, blowing me like a porn star.

  “Hell, baby.” I grabbed a fistful of her hair as she slurped and sucked my shaft.

  I’d just come, so this was going to take a while. And I was going to enjoy every second of her hot little mouth on my dick.

  But then it hit me.

  A moment of clarity. The kind of clarity that usually came during near-death experiences. Men talked about that flash when their life was like a movie reel. Priorities were checked. Promises reignited. Meaningful dreams established. For me, I could only explain what happened to me as a moment of pure bliss. It was the ecstasy of Evie that gave me the thought. What she did to my body put me in a kind of state to be suddenly open to an insane idea. But it didn’t matter if it was insane. It was crystal clear.

  Her tongue trailed over the thick vein running along my engorged shaft.

  I moaned when I hit the back of her throat again. Shit, she was good at this. The more she sucked, the more the vision came into full view. It made sense. Brilliant sense.

  “Evie,” I rasped.

  Her wide eyes opened. Fuck. She looked perfect like that. On her knees with my cock in her mouth. Faced with the choices ahead of me, I knew this wasn’t nearly as insane as it was about to sound. There was merit in my idea.

  I held her stare, and she stopped. My cock bobbed, slick from her mouth.

  “I want you to come with me tonight.”

  She crawled on to the couch next to me. “I think I did about three times.”

  I chuckled. “Fly back with me tonight to New York,” I corrected.

  “What are you talking about?”

  I brushed the hair off her shoulder and made a trail to her tits. She was beautiful. She was smart. She had her own plans and goals. This would work.

  “I’m talking about the perfect deal.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I have the solution to both of our problems. You need to marry me.”

  Her mouth fell open.

  “Jeremy. That’s not funny. I get it. You want to leave on a light note, but you don’t have to do that. Tonight was fun and I swear you don’t have to call. Not even the next time you come home. I think we make excellent drinking buddies.” She folded her arms in front of her chest.

  I pulled them away. I wasn’t done staring at her gorgeous body.

  “I’m being serious.” It was right there—clear and obvious. “My father dangled half a billion dollars in front of me today. And I refused to take the bait because I didn’t want to be forced into a marriage, and certainly not fatherhood. But then we ran into each other.” I exhaled. “And what do you want more than anything? A baby.”

  “You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”

  “You don’t want to be married any more than I do, right? And I don’t want a kid, but you do, right? So who else could this possibly work with? Marry me. You get your baby. I get the fortune—which I’ll share obviously. You can make a movie, hire a writing team, whatever in the hell you want. Fuck them. They think they can dictate my life? I’ll dictate it. With you. We can have everything. I don’t have to play by his rules. This breaks them. This wasn’t what he wanted me to do—so I think it’s exactly what I’ll do. What do you think? Want to marry me?”

  8

  Evie

  I blinked. I didn’t know how many times. I was trying to bring the room into focus, and more importantly, Jer’s face. Was I still drunk? I was pretty sure the earth-shattering sex had sobered me up, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. Not after the question I just heard.

  “You want me to marry you?”

  “Yes. A business arrangement between friends. Legally it has to be called a marriage. It will be legitimate.”

  “Jer, until this afternoon, we hadn’t seen each other in twelve years. We have never been friends.”

  “You’re forgetting cat lady’s class.”

  I sighed. “You know what I mean. From Mrs. Wratchet’s English class to marriage is a huge leap.”

  “It’s not a real marriage. You know that. It’s in name only. And of course you’ll have access to all my money. Anything you want. Think of how many millions that is, Evie. Millions of dollars at your disposal. You can do anything you want with that kind of money.”

  “In exchange for having your baby?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s call it your baby.”

  “I don’t believe this.” I reached for the blanket I had tossed on the floor. My mind had finally overpowered my body and I was thinking with my brain for the first time in hours.

  Jeremy looked at his phone. “Shit. I have to go soon, or I’m going to miss my flight. Our flight,” he corrected.

  I felt like I had whiplash.

  “Come on, Evie. It’s the perfect solution. I’ll give you the kid you’ve always wanted. We know the sex is phenomenal. And you get the Hartwell name and money. I don’t see how you can turn it down.” He stood, his gorgeous sculpted frame towered over me.

  “So you want to be the father? Not go through in vitro like I’ve been doing? You could just donate the specimen.”

  He chuckled. “Where’s the fun in that for me? Can you imagine the sex we’ll have getting you knocked up? You said it yourself. There’s no strings attached between us. We won’t be a husband and wife.”

  I was still vibrating with aftershocks from multiple orgasms. The thought of sex like this for months trying to conceive was tempting. The kind of temptation I didn’t think I was strong enough to ignore.

  “What would we be?” He had to know I would ask questions.

  “Friends with baby benefits?”


  “Is that a thing?”

  He smiled. It was a killer smile. The kind that made women do crazy impulsive things like have sex at an unexpected reunion.

  “It will be our thing. You know it’s a great idea.”

  I couldn’t believe how quickly I was able to check off the problems the arrangement would solve. I could pay off my debt. I could fund my writing. And I could have my dream baby. I looked at Jeremy as he dressed.

  But it wouldn’t be an in vitro baby, fathered by FY9987. It would be Jeremy’s baby. It could have Jeremy’s eyes and nose. What if it looked only like him and nothing like me? I was ok with that possibility when I was going to use an anonymous donor, but facing the father was entirely different. What if we had a boy and he wanted to be a professional athlete too? What if I ended up having nothing in common with my own child? The thought terrified me.

  “What would people think about us?”

  He turned, buttoning his shirt. It wasn’t as crisp as it once was. “What do you mean?” He shrugged.

  “You haven’t thought about any of the details. You just blurted this out.”

  He threaded his belt through the loops on his dress pants. “I thought about it the entire time you gave me that blowjob.” He grinned. “It came to me in a moment of carnal clarity.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Asshole.”

  “Hey, I want to give you everything you want. I’m not an asshole. I’m more of a benefactor who gets exclusive fucking rights.” He bit his bottom lip and I felt the thrill it shot through my body.

  “This is what you want? A loveless marriage? Between two people who barely know each other? That’s just sad, Jeremy.”

  “My parents were married for forty years and lived a cold and isolated existence. This has to be better than what they had.” He sat next to me.

  “That’s not what my parents have.”

  “But you’re the one who said you didn’t need to get married. You’ve given up on it. So what difference does a piece of paper make? We do it to get the money. It’s simple.”

  “For how long?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When can we get divorced?” I asked. It wasn’t something my family would be happy about. They favored traditional Italian values with marriages that lasted a lifetime. But I was willing to be realistic. At some point I would want my full freedom back.

  “Oh there’s no out to this marriage. Til death do us part, baby.”

  I stared at him. “Why in the hell would you want to do this?”

  “Because neither one of us wants to get married. So let’s not think about it that way. We can stay friends. We have an agreement. Really it’s like we’re not married at all, and then we don’t have to worry about that option on the table anymore for the rest of our lives. It’s like we’ve solved the marriage problem. It’s fucking brilliant.”

  “And the baby? How are we going to raise a child like that?”

  “That’s up to you. I don’t have that parental thing you do. It’s your baby, Evie. All yours. You can have the baby.”

  He checked his phone again. “Come on. Get dressed and I’ll call a car to take us to the airport.”

  I let the blanket fall from my shoulders. “Why does it have to be so fast? So sudden? Can’t I think about it?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m going to marry you tonight, before I sober up and talk myself out of it. Even brilliant plans look different in the light of day.”

  I pulled on his arm. “Then Jer, it’s not a good idea. If you have to trick yourself this way.”

  He laughed. “I’m kidding. That was a joke. Let’s do this.” His hand snaked around my waist, cupping my ass. I groaned when he squeezed it hard in his grasp. “Let me give you a baby. You want a baby, don’t you?”

  There were a lot of things he could say. Hell, there were a lot of things he had already said tonight that made me weak in the knees. But he said the one thing that mattered to a woman who had been taking fertility treatments, trying for the past six months to get pregnant. He said the one phrase that I had waited to hear. The last piece to the puzzle I wanted. He dangled the carrot in front of me. My grand prize. My dream. A sweet soft innocent child placed in my arms. This man could give me that.

  He grazed my lips with his mouth. “You can’t say no to me.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t.” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  He was the forbidden fruit. Everything I shouldn’t want, but needed. He was every warning my mother had ever tossed out in her Italian accent when I was growing up. He was the epitome of heartbreak. But I couldn’t stop kissing him. I couldn’t stop believing that my dream had come true tonight, when the boy I barely knew in high school walked into Bella’s.

  One day I’d tell my daughter about men like Jeremy. I’d warn her about men who offered the moon and delivered lies. I’d tell her to search for love. I’d tell her to never settle until she found her soul mate. I’d make her promise that happiness and joy would come first in her life. I’d sit her down and tell her all the mistakes I made. I’d explain how desperately I wanted a family of my own. How I was willing to do anything in the world for the chance to meet her.

  9

  Jeremy

  The snow drifted around Evie as she locked the door to the restaurant. She pulled a scarf closer to her neck. Her eyes were still fixed on the blinking Bella’s sign. I couldn’t tell if she was getting ready to back out of the deal, or taking a second to say mental goodbyes.

  This wasn’t a time for either of us to change our minds. The more we sobered up, the more we would realize how risky everything had become. We had to keep riding this impulsive high.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  She nodded. Snowflakes landed on her lashes. “I am. But do you think we could stop by my place on the way out of town? I need a few things.”

  “I can buy you what you need,” I offered, holding the car door for her. She slid inside where the heat was on full blast. The quicker we got out of Newton Hills, the better.

  “I’d like to at least get something. Personal items. We can’t possibly buy everything at once. Don’t we have time?”

  I checked my watch. “Ok. A five-minute stop. Will that work?”

  She bit her lip. “I can pack quickly.”

  “Good. I don’t like to keep the pilot waiting.”

  She gave the driver the address.

  “What do you mean keep him waiting? Don’t we have to be at the airport to board at a certain time? What does your ticket say? And are you sure I can get on the flight? What if it’s booked?”

  We turned onto a street in an older part of town. I couldn’t say I remembered ever driving through this section of town as a kid.

  “We aren’t flying on an airline, Evie,” I explained. “You don’t need a ticket for the private jet.”

  “What? But I thought it was a red-eye. You said you had to make the last flight of the night.”

  I nodded. “It is the last one the flight crew can take. Something about FAA regulation and crew hours. I don’t get into the details. The jet was being used by one of the other executives today. I had to snag it when I could.” I paused. “And I might have stood a few pilots up in the past. So if I’m not there on time they get pissy with me. I don’t need that.”

  Her pretty mouth fell open. “That’s unbelievable. You’re ok using the company jet? As much as you hate the company, I’m a little surprised, that’s all.”

  I didn’t like the way her words made my ribs tighten in my chest. I didn’t want to be reminded that I was using something that had belonged to my father. There were five jets in the fleet. They were used throughout the company, and sometimes the family. I hopped on one when I could. I had expected to fly into Newton Hills a man with fumes in his bank account, and fly out a billionaire. Those plans had been smashed this morning and resurrected by a beautiful Italian girl. I was leaving town exactly the way I wanted. With Evie by my side, that was now the reality. Our real
ity.

  The driver pulled in front of a row of townhouses.

  “We’re here,” he announced. “I’ll keep the heat going for you.”

  “Thank you.” Evie smiled.

  I followed her out of the car and up the stairs.

  “This will only take a few minutes.” She turned on the light and I waited by the front door while she slammed drawers in the bedroom.

  “Need help?” I called from the hallway.

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  I looked around me. There were more pillows on the couch than I had ever seen. Was she part-cat? Pillows, blanket, books scattered everywhere. There was a row of pictures on a table behind the couch. I picked up the first in line. Evie was surrounded by three children.

  I studied the grin on her face. The genuine happiness in her eyes. There were more pictures of the kids next to that one. Only, they were each babies in the other shots. She held them against her chest. The expression was different. Maternal and loving. I closed my eyes and it was as if a flash of electricity had snapped through my veins. I could see her holding our baby. My baby. She looked at him with that same kind of love. With a love so strong it could heal. It could protect. It could bring me to my knees. I shook my head. I placed the photo down. Damn. I was drunk.

  I cleared my throat. “We need to go.”

  “Ok, I think I have enough for a proper elopement,” she announced.

  She appeared at the end of the hallway. I could make out her curvy silhouette, but that was about it. She hauled the bag over her shoulder and walked into the foyer. She had changed out of her waitress clothes. She was wearing a pair of leggings, boots, and a long soft sweater. I thought about pulling her against me and drinking in her lips, but we didn’t have time for detours. We needed to make it to the airport.

  “I don’t know that there’s anything proper about it.” I chuckled. “But you look cute.”

  “Really?” She blushed. “Cute enough to create a scandal?” she teased.