Surrogate For The Billionaire: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance

A complete and heartfelt romance, brought to you by Tyra Small of the
respected BWWM Club.

Being a CEO and owner of a large company, Bryce doesn't have time for
dating.

So when his urges tell him he wants a child to one day take over his
empire, he decides to do what he does best:

Throw money at the situation.

When he places an ad for a surrogate mother, he expects a purely
business relationship that will end in the child he wants.

What he gets instead is Lateisha, a beautiful and smart woman who
could just be the girl he's willing to make time for.

Spending more and more time together, soon feelings start to grow and
these feelings are revealed.

But with Lateisha convinced she's not ready for a child of her own,
and outside forces doing what they can to ensure the two don't fall
into a real relationship, can this business agreement realistically
turn into the family that dreams are made of?

Or will the two cut ties and part ways once their contract is up?

Find out in this emotional yet sexy romance by Tyra Small of BWWM
Club.

Suitable for over 18s strictly, as contain scenes of a hot and sexual
nature. ;)

Tip:
Search '
BWWM Club
' for more great books like this by ourself.
But not until you finished this one. ;)

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©
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Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Chapter
7

Chapter
8

Chapter
9

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Lateisha
Aaron handed the woman in her car waiting outside of the drive
through window her bag. Her greasy bag filled with nasty food. She
didn’t think it was nasty before, when she started working here
several months ago after graduation, she used to eat this food.
Seeing it every day for the last three months made her want to vomit
at the idea of ingesting it. Not that she was turned off from all
fast food, she loved Wendy’s, but anything from the place she
worked made her stomach turn. Tugging at the hair net covering her
tight black curls, Lateisha moved back to the fryer to prepare the
next bag for the next customer at the window. Frowning, she dumped
the fries into a cardboard cup and placed them into a paper bag.
Lateisha snorted, she never thought she would end up serving fast
food
after
obtaining her Bachelor’s degree. Sighing, she
passed the bag through the window and moved towards the back again.
Her mother told her to go into nursing because ‘every time she
checks the paper someone is looking for a nurse’. Well then why
the hell didn’t anyone hire her? Biding her time at this
craphole until she could find something more suitable, something she
would actually enjoy, was making her crazy. It wasn’t like she
wasn’t offered jobs. But who wants to clean bedpans for the
elderly for three years before they get to actually do some real
nursing? Her friend Becky, who she met in nursing school, found a job
at the local hospital in the ER. Becky assured her that dumping
bedpans was part of the job and every nurse, new or seasoned, had to
do it, but Lateisha just couldn’t stand the idea. Instead, she
was flipping nasty burgers and frying greasy fries. Bedpans didn’t
look too bad some days, especially when she had to clean the fryers.

With a
shiver of revulsion, Lateisha realized tonight was her night and
almost quit on the spot, but she needed the money. She glanced at the
clock, ten more minutes to her lunch break. The idea of taking a
minute to sit and regroup in the break room seemed great right about
now. Working six days a week in fast food was grueling and
exhausting. The ten minutes flew by and Lateisha practically ran to
the break room. Snatching her lunch bag from the fridge, she reclined
in one of the four chairs surrounding a small round table in the
corner of the small room. She pulled her phone from her purse to text
Becky and realized she had an email with new job listings from the
career website she had uploaded her resume to recently. She opened
the email and scrolled through the jobs, vetoing each in her head as
she went; too far, not enough pay, etc. Her eyes fell on an ad that
seemed peculiar on a career website;
Surrogate Wanted
.
Lateisha laughed out loud. Who listed an ad for a surrogate on a job
website? Deciding to look it over anyway, just for shits and giggles,
Lateisha opened the ad.

Surrogate
wanted. Must be over 18, preferably single with no children, non
smoker with a clean bill of health. I’m offering $30,000 to
carry a baby for me. I will pay all doctor bills and living expenses,
etc during the time you are pregnant. If you are interested please
contact me by email at
[email protected]
.

Lateisha
laughed aloud again. Was this guy for real? It was a lot of money.
Dollar signs in her eyes, Lateisha contemplated emailing him to see
if he was for real or not. Could be a serial killer looking to get
young women to meet him places so he could kidnap them. Then again,
HenCorp was a big company, and to use their name and email in the ad
to lure someone in to kill them would be stupid. Why was she even
thinking about this? It was ridiculous. She didn’t want kids,
never had, but maybe that’s what this guy wants. Changing her
mind and keeping the baby would never happen since she didn’t
want any of her own kids. This was a crazy idea. Was she really
considering carrying a baby for a stranger? But thirty thousand
dollars… This would take a lot of consideration. Closing her
email, Lateisha ate her lunch, all the while chewing on the idea of
being a surrogate.

*****

Bryce
Henderson scratched his head. Why wasn’t he getting any
interest in the ad he put up online? Sighing, he turned back to his
computer, reading over the contract he received that morning for the
newest company his business acquired.
His
business was a loose
term of course, since after graduate school he inherited the position
of owner from his father, who was more than willing to retire and
move to the clichéd Florida with his new thirty-something wife
and their two dogs. How his father pulled that one off he’d
never know, but when Bryce’s mother died five years ago his dad
became a shell of a man. Any woman who could pull him out of that
funk, even if she was only a few years older than his twenty-eight
years, was welcome in his family. He just hoped his father knew what
he was doing.

Cracking
his neck from side to side to work out the stiffness of a full days
work, Bryce closed the contract document, making a note to read it
further later and sign, and opened his email again in the hopes of
finding a response to his ad. Bryce wanted to have a child to pass
his business to, to play catch with and watch grow up, but he didn’t
have time to date and he was almost thirty. The surrogacy idea came
to him late one night when he was still in the office, well past
everyone else. Bryce glanced out of the window from his sixteenth
floor office and looked down at the city below. It was a Friday
night, but there he was, working. He knew he could have been out
there, at a bar or a club, meeting a woman who would become Mrs.
Bryce Henderson II, but he just didn’t have the energy for it.
But he wanted a child. That he knew for certain. Suddenly the idea of
surrogacy made a lot of sense. The night before he saw a news story
about a woman, who was a surrogate to two children for the same
couple, it was quite the story. Why couldn’t he do that and
skip all of the nonsense of dating? He spoke to his lawyer the next
day and put the wheels in motion, but he still needed a woman willing
to use her own egg and carry the child to term. That was the part
proving to be tricky. The ad was on the website for over a week and
he hadn’t heard a peep of interest. Sure, it was asking a lot,
but he knew there was a selfless woman out there who would do this
for him eventually.

Bryce
clicked the icon for his inbox, indicating he had three new messages.
Two were business related and he opened those and responded
accordingly. The last one made his heart speed up; someone had
answered his ad. Opening his email, Bryce wiped his now sweating
palms on the legs of his navy designer suit pants. This was it.

Hi
Mr. Henderson.

I am
a twenty-one year old, college graduate and I’m interested in
your offer for a surrogate. I don’t smoke, and I have a clean
bill of health. I was wondering if we could meet to discuss the
conditions. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Lateisha
Aaron

Springing
into action, Bryce responded, letting the woman know that he would
like to interview her the next day at three-thirty to see if she was
a fit for the surrogacy. This could be it, his chance to have a
child.

*****

Lateisha
adjusted her blouse nervously. She wasn’t used to wearing dress
clothes and the silky blouse and black slacks felt uncomfortable and
stiff against her skin. Glancing in the mirror of the bathroom in the
Henderson Building, Lateisha checked her teeth for remnants of Lucky
Charms and smoothed her clothes once more with anxiety. Satisfied
that she looked presentable, Lateisha exited the bathroom, checking
the large board in the lobby for the office number and floor of Mr.
Bryce Henderson. Not able to find it she headed to the information
desk in the far corner, her black heels clicking on the marble tiles
as she went.

“Can
I help you?” A slender woman with dark hair asked, her head
turning slightly sideways like a puppy as she talked.

Lateisha
reigned in a laugh, clearing her throat before she spoke. “I’m
wondering which floor to find Mr. Henderson?” She asked, self
consciously tugging on her blouse again. Why were dress clothes so
stuffy?

“And
you are?” She asked, her voice trailing off.

Lateisha
sighed. “Lateisha Aaron,” She answered with irritation.
What was she, his personal body guard?

“Oh!
Mr. Henderson is expecting you. Take the elevator all the way to the
top floor. The assistant up there will help you.”

Lateisha
nodded, mumbling her thanks as she clicked her way to the elevator
which was on the other side of the lobby. Looking around at the lobby
as she waited for the elevator car to reach her proved interesting.
The lobby was fairly empty save for the woman at the information
desk, the security guard by the door and the odd employee moving from
here to there. The space was relatively large and impressively
decorated; from the marble floors to the light cream walls. Lateisha
even noticed several paintings that looked to be for sale hanging on
the walls. The doors to the elevator slid open and Lateisha entered.
When the doors to the elevator closed Lateisha sagged against the
wall. Her feet were already protesting their confinement in the
pointy toed pumps and she ached to slip them off and rub her arches.
Unfortunately for her the ride to the top was rather quick, leaving
her slightly queasy with the feeling of vertigo, so taking her shoes
off was not an option.

Lateisha
stepped from the elevator and looked around. The same color scheme
and marble floors decorated the sixteenth floor. Everything screamed
of wealth. Lateisha felt even more uncomfortable in her polyester
dress clothes and tugged at her shirt once more. Taking a deep breath
she started towards the double glass doors at the end of the hall
where the elevators were located. Through the door she could see a
woman with short blond hair and severe cheekbones behind a large
desk. A tug at the doors indicated that they were locked. Feeling
foolish, Lateisha stood there and waited for the blond woman to look
up. Finally catching her eye, Lateisha motioned to the doors with her
hand. A click sounded indicating the doors were unlocked and she
pulled the door open and walked in. Why the woman couldn’t have
done that the second she saw her step off the elevator was a mystery.
She must be on a power trip,
Lateisha thought with a snort.