A Baby for the Billionaire Read online

“Tell them you are Ms. Maddisen and you are here to see Mr. Maxwell. They will direct you,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I replied, reaching to get some crumpled bills to tip him.

  “Oh, no need ma’am. It’s all taken care of,” he said with a kind smile.

  When I walked into the building, I was struck by the artistry on the walls and the elaborate chandeliers.

  The door man took my information and directed me to an elevator that required a special key to open the doors. I felt as though I was completely out of my league.

  Tapping my foot as I rode the car, I wondered if I was making a huge mistake by going to his home. What if this was some elaborate, cruel prank? Or what if he had some weird fetish, and I was going to end up on the news?

  Clearly the man was wealthy and high profile enough that a woman coming to his apartment would escape notice. I had given my name out to people. I saw the security cameras and everything.

  He wouldn’t do anything to me.

  Right?

  The car stopped at what felt like the top floor and the door opened.

  I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Damian, standing in front of an elaborately set table. Delicious smells of pasta and meat wafted into my nose.

  “Glad you could make it,” he said, reaching to take my bag and coat.

  I gave him a small smile and followed him to the table. He pulled out a chair and then sat across from me.

  “So, before we eat,” I said, my stomach in knots, “I just want some of my questions answered.”

  While the food smelled amazing, I knew I couldn’t eat feeling this nervous. I didn’t want to spend the entire time glaring at him, wondering when he was going to show me his crazy.

  “Of course.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Damian was quiet for a moment. I knew he had expected a question like this, but it seemed like he needed to get the words in the proper order.

  “I didn’t have a good mom,” he said slowly. “And I haven’t found a woman that I think would be a good mom. No offense,” he added.

  I shrugged. It was fine. I knew I was going to be a kickass mom. He didn’t know me.

  But you want to have his baby?

  “I have seen a lot of relationships fail, and more than anything I want to be a father, and I want to have a supportive environment for the child.”

  “So why not go through a service?” I asked.

  “That was the plan. And then I saw you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “You saw me and wanted to get me pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  I just nodded wordlessly. This incredible sculpture of a man wanted me to give him a child.

  “So, would I be going to a doctor and getting it done medically?”

  “No.”

  I gulped. He wanted me.

  “So, you want to do this?” He asked.

  A thousand reasons not to do this flashed in my head.

  But I trusted the genuine nature of his request. He really wanted this, and for seemingly good reasons.

  “Yes.”

  “Great,” he smiled widely, looking very obviously relieved. He started to make himself a plate of food, handing me dishes to select from.

  “Are you on any type of birth control?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “And when was your last period?”

  I stopped eating for a moment, deep in thought.

  “Maybe, like, two weeks ago?”

  Damian paused.

  The light clicked in my head at about the same time.

  I might be ovulating right now.

  “I have an ovulation test in my bathroom,” he said, shifting in his seat. “If you’d like to check. When dinner is done,” he added. “You don’t have to though, we can wait until next month.”

  I just nodded, blood rushing to my face and my cleft. My clit was throbbing. It had been so long since I slept with a man, and something about Damian Maxwell was telling me that sex with him was unlike anything I had ever experienced. “Would the sex be… clinical?” I asked. I wanted to know what this would be. Doggy style so I felt like an animal? Lights-off missionary? Would we even kiss?

  The realizations made me want to go back on my initial agreement.

  Why hadn’t I asked the important questions?

  Who cares how hot he is if sleeping with him makes me feel bad about myself?

  “I don’t do ‘clinical’ sex,” he scoffed, the tone borderline rude. “I wouldn’t want to make a child like that.”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  Please let me be ovulating.

  5

  The last time I had peed on a test stick, I had prayed it would show a sad face. I had just started my first semester of college, and I didn’t want to give up my education for a baby. I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to juggle both school and a newborn. I always envied the women that could. My palms sweat and my vision went a little blurry as I had stared at the stick, willing it to show that I wasn’t pregnant.

  I hadn’t been.

  And now, almost seven years later, I was praying for the opposite.

  Tell me I am ovulating. Tell me that I have a reason to have sex with that godly looking man.

  A small voice in my head reminded me that I shouldn’t want to have sex with a man that was only wanting to get me pregnant. He didn’t want a relationship, at least not in the standard sense of the word.

  But he had said he wanted to get me pregnant, right?

  I was so confused.

  My alarm on my phone went off, notifying me that the test was done. I glanced back, staring hard at the stick.

  A smile.

  My hands shaking, I rolled the stick in some toilet paper, put it back in the wrapper, and threw it away. I washed my hands, splashing water all over the counter because of the tremors.

  I was so excited.

  And so nervous.

  Placing my hands on the counter, I looked at myself in the mirror.

  I looked good. I felt good.

  There was a sexy-as-sin man out there that wanted to sleep with me.

  Own it.

  I fluffed my hair slightly, gave myself an encouraging smile, and exited the restroom.

  Damian was seated on his bed, hands clasped in front of him. When the door opened he jumped to his feet, his eyes wide in what looked like hopeful anticipation.

  I wanted to form the words, but I couldn’t. I just smiled and nodded.

  His face grew joyous, and then darkly sexual.

  My chest constricted slightly, my eyes glancing down to the bulge that had now formed in his pants.

  That’s for you, Khloe.

  He closed the gap between us in seconds, his hands grasping my face and bringing his lips forcefully against mine, his tongue sliding inside of my mouth.

  I moaned against him, my hands moving to grab his ass and squeeze it. Letting one of my hands venture to his front, I cupped the hardness that was trying to escape the tightness of his trousers.

  Fuck, he’s big.

  My body was aching to be claimed by him. He ground his hips into my touch, the weight of his cock feeling heavy and thick against my palm.

  My hands both worked to free him, and he reached around me to unzip my dress.

  Soon we were both naked, kissing and feeling each other as we stood in his bedroom.

  Did we discuss intense make-out sessions happening pre-baby making?

  Damian’s strong hands urged me back toward the bed, where I fell back on the soft down of his comforter. I scooted myself back, toward the pillows, and Damian made himself comfortable between my legs, his breath fanning my slit.

  Did we discuss oral sex happening pre-baby making?

  I knew I was soaking wet already, but I would be insane to turn away Damian Maxwell from eating my pussy.

  His mouth descended on my flesh hungrily, sucking and licking me. My clit throbbed and pulsed as his mouth worke
d against my skin.

  I moaned, and he reached up to fondle one of my large breasts, squeezing it in his hand. Using his other hand, he dipped two fingers inside of me, groaning.

  “Fuck, you’re tight, Khloe,” he told me.

  The sound of his hoarse voice brought me to the edge. I cried out as I came, and soon his body was covering my own, his mouth returning to claim mine again.

  “You are so sweet,” he muttered into my mouth, “so beautiful, so soft and delicious.”

  As he talked to me, he widened my legs, his hard erection prodding me.

  “I can’t wait to fill your pussy with my cum.”

  “Oh god,” I moaned, the head of his cock pressing against my entryway. The dirty talk was out of this world, and my head was spinning.

  While I was soaked with my own arousal, my body was tight from its long, sexual drought. He pushed in carefully, making gains in what felt like millimeters. My body was gripping him tightly, and he would occasionally stop, swearing softly, before moving again.

  Finally, his pelvis was pressing against my thighs, his cock buried inside of me. He rotated his hips once, and then pulled out, pushing in again and causing a loud moan to surface.

  “I’m going to fuck you hard, Khloe. I can’t last long with this tight cunt of yours, but this won’t be the last time I fuck you tonight,” he growled in my ear.

  He pulled out and then slammed into me again. I cried out, loving the fullness his thick cock created. Damian’s hips worked tirelessly, pumping into me again and again. With one hand he reached between us, toying with my clit, bringing me close to an orgasm again.

  “I’m coming,” I whimpered.

  “Fuck,” he hissed.

  The waves of my orgasm washed over me and I cried out, my body contracting around his cock, milking his cum. I felt him twitch inside of me, the hot semen filling my channel, shooting to my womb.

  He stayed inside of me for a moment, catching his breath, kissing me slowly.

  I felt his cock twitch inside me again, getting hard.

  “Already?” I breathed.

  “I can’t help it. You’re so amazing, Khloe,” he replied, moving again.

  He lifted my legs up onto his shoulders. His thrusts were frantic, deep and penetrating. My flesh was sore, but responsive, and another orgasm built inside of me and crashed down.

  His cock pulsed from within me, his cum dripping out of me and onto his sheets.

  Again and again he fucked me. Soon the gaps between became longer, until both of us were too exhausted to do anything else but fall asleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

  6

  When I woke up in a strange bed next to another human being, I had a moment of panic. When I finally calmed down, I remembered the exhausting activities of the night before and a blush crept onto my face.

  I looked over at the sculpted man next to me, his pectoral muscles and abdominals were visible, the blankets and sheets bunched around his waist. He was breathing deeply, still asleep.

  The soreness and stickiness that understandably lingered between my thighs was bordering on uncomfortable. I carefully got out of bed, thankful that Damian was apparently a heavy sleeper.

  I am sure the athleticism of the night before also contributed to his unconscious state.

  Not wanting to stir him, I pulled myself out of bed and scurried to the bathroom.

  I took a quick shower and wrapped myself in a fluffy robe. When I peeked back out, he was still sound asleep.

  I decided to make him breakfast in return for the delicious dinner the night before.

  His fridge was well-stocked. I decided to make a breakfast casserole, banking on him being asleep for the next hour.

  Soon the kitchen was smelling of eggs, bacon, and syrup.

  I was cutting fruit when my body backed into something hard.

  “What’s all this,” Damian asked, his body leaning into mine, his breath on my throat.

  My body responded immediately, the soreness vanishing and being replaced with a carnal hunger.

  “A thank-you breakfast,” I replied, trying to keep my wits about me.

  “I’m the one that needs to thank you,” he said, his hands moving all over my body, touching my ass, my breasts, and even reaching beneath the robe to gently stroke my slit.

  “I don’t like you in this robe,” his voice was deep.

  “Oh?” I managed, my mind barely comprehending what he was saying.

  “It’s covering too much,” he said, his hands pulling the tie and tugging the robe off my shoulders. It fell to the floor in a soft pile.

  I leaned back against him, the hardness of his erection obvious against my bare skin.

  He rubbed his cock at my opening, coating himself and then sliding inside.

  My body protested, only for a moment, at the soreness of the intrusion. He started slow but soon he was more forceful. He reached around me to grab my breasts and then rub my slit, bringing me to an orgasm. His body slammed into mine one final time, his cum filling me again.

  At this rate, I’m probably already pregnant five times over.

  But if he wanted to keep going, I wasn’t going to complain.

  * * *

  We sat at the dining table, my legs sticky again as the cum oozed from my body. I had to keep reminding myself not to stare at him. He was so handsome. And clearly, he had the wealth behind him. I was still struggling to understand why a man like him would still be single.

  “This is delicious,” he said, scarfing down a third plate of the casserole. “I can definitely get used to this.”

  I tried not to let my heart flutter to much at those words.

  “We can have your apartment packed up and your things moved over here for the duration of the agreement,” he said, as if the thought just registered. “And I’ll contact your leasing company to handle the lease.”

  He thinks of everything, doesn’t he?

  “I assume you have some kind of legal agreement for this?” I asked, trying to build a wall between us. I could feel myself falling for this guy. And even just a little would be devastating at the end of all this.

  Too late, Khloe.

  “Oh right, of course,” he said, wiping his mouth and hurrying away. He returned with a folder and a pen.

  “I would recommend you have your lawyer look over it. I assure you, I tried to be fair,” he said.

  I took the document and smiled weakly, feeling the bricks start piling up.

  Protecting myself.

  7

  My foot tapped nervously. I was sitting on the toilet, my eyes focused on the intricate tile pattern of Damian’s bathroom.

  We had been having non-stop sex for the past month. Long past the ovulation test telling me that my window was over. That hadn’t determined Damian.

  But now, if I was pregnant? What would that mean for us?

  My period was now over a week late, so I was ready to take the test.

  Damian was at work now. I had found that he owned a software development company, and that was why he was the wealthiest man I ever knew. The elaborate furniture, the helicopter on the roof of the building, and the other homes pictured in frames around his apartment were a testament to that.

  Would I ever get to go to one of them?

  It was still confusing to me that he wouldn’t have women crawling all over him to be with him.

  Why had he picked me?

  The alarm on my phone rang, jarring me from my thoughts and notifying me that the results were ready.

  I looked up at the test.

  A smiling face.

  My heart was conflicted. On one hand, I was pregnant. I was about to make a million dollars in nine months. All the sex with Damian worked, and I was going to be bringing a life into this world.

  But then again… I was pregnant.

  I was that much closer to giving birth to a baby, handing it over, and being out of Damian’s life.

  But that was what I signed up for.

 
I took another test, just to be sure, and the results were the same.

  Am I ready for this?

  * * *

  After taking the tests, I needed to get out of the apartment for a little bit. Walking down the bustling streets, I dipped in and out of stores. My heart fluttered at the sight of baby clothes, baby toys, baby anything.

  And my heart broke remembering that I wouldn’t really be a part of that. It would be Damian.

  But that was the agreement that I had signed.

  I would have my own family. And Damian wouldn’t be a part of it.

  My heart ached.

  I went to get myself a decaf coffee, wishing I could put something a little stronger in there, but knew that was completely off the table.

  I touched my stomach lightly, protectively.

  After ordering, I took a seat and waited for my name to be called. Pulling out my phone, I debated sending Damian a text. My name was called, so I set my phone down and picked up my coffee and my muffin.

  Loud laughter drifted across the cafe, and I looked up to see Jenna Slater, that awful HR girl from the interview all those weeks ago.

  She was laughing with other girls that looked just as wire-thin as she did. I stared at my coffee and my muffin, wishing that things were different.

  Everything had happened so fast, and now I was pregnant by a man, for a man, that wasn’t even my boyfriend.

  Tears stung my eyes.

  Are my hormones already going wild?

  “Khloe?” Damian’s voice startled me.

  “Hey,” my voice was quiet, and wavering from the emotion. Damian looked concerned, glancing around as if a sign would appear to let him know why I was crying.

  “Are you okay?” He asked, taking a seat across from me.

  I nodded, worried that if I formed too many words I would break down.

  My throat tightened as I tried to tell him about the pregnancy. I knew he would be excited, but I was worried about what that would mean for us.

  Would I be locked away in a guest room until the baby was born?

  “Excuse me,” a sugary sweet voice interrupted us.

  Damian and I turned to the intruder.

  Jenna.

  “Are you Damian Maxwell?” She asked, giving him her best seductive smile.