The Billionaire's Milkmaid (BBW Lactation Erotic Romance) (5 page)

Read a sample from The Billionaire's Milkmaid #2:

The bonus check came the Friday of her first week back, an unmarked envelope sent through interoffice mail. She opened it, not certain what it was, assuming it was just another invoice to send on to accounts payable.
Her regular paycheck came through direct deposit, so Jessica hadn't received a company check in ages; even business expense reimbursements came through direct deposit these days. As she opened the check and stared at it, "Pay to Jessica Browning," she nearly shouted "WHAT THE FUCK!?!" as her eyes hit the amount.
$25,000.
Of course, taxes had been taken out, so on the actual check she had a payment of $14,876.22. She had been gone for six months. No major accounts had closed before her maternity leave, and even then her standard bonus was more like $2,000 and, maybe, a company stock grant. So why was she suddenly getting a big bonus like –
Oh
.
Her face pinkened.
That's why.
Sleeping with the new owner of her corporation on Monday had been a total impulse move, a risk that was driven by need and craven desire and lust – and not a small dose of stupidity. Who knew he was even the owner? Antonio Bouskos had appeared out of seemingly nowhere to offer to help her find a room to use her breast pump on her first day back from work, so she could collect milk to feed her six month old at home.

Nowhere in her job description did it say she would come back to work, meet her company owner in the hallway and have him fuck her on a conference table big enough to seat all the delegates to the UN while drinking her overflowing milk and making sweet, passionate love to her, their mutual pleasure thirty floors above the city leading to a mind-blowing experience that, even now, Jessica wasn't sure wasn't really just a sleep-deprived dream.
The check she held in her hand, though, was
very
real.
The weekend loomed large before her, a haven that she needed completely. Coming back to work had been nearly as impossible as she had feared, with Sofia turning from a content baby into a clingy, whiny, fearful tot who just wanted Jessica 24/7. Her mother, June, was a fantastic grandmother, and Jessica had no concerns about how much love, patience, and devotion Sofia was getting in the arms of her grandmother, but it wasn't the same. Sofia needed her mommy, and Jessica wanted more of her baby.
Her eyes stared at that figure, a net of nearly $15,000, almost three months of her regular take-home pay. She had chosen her career well, calculating how to make sure she would always be a relatively high earner, and she made $90,000 on her own. Having an MBA and going through project management certification earlier in her career had been a big bonus, though she also tended to stick to less intense departments. If she had gone for something like Mergers and Acquisitions she could be making mid-six figures, but she liked advertising. The projects were interesting and the creative people kept her on her feet.

After taxes, 401k contributions, insurance premiums and a few other small deductions she brought home just about $5,000, plenty to raise Sofia on if she could just keep up this pace.
And her boss, Mike, had been "easy" on her this week. She had
only
needed to put in sixty hours. As she packed her laptop case for the weekend, knowing she had about six hours a day of work ahead of her, at least, she figured, she could do it with Sofia nearby. Typing one handed while nursing wasn't new; the volume, as work picked back up, would be difficult.
She had no choice.
This fat bonus check spoke of security, of safety, of money she couldn't fathom having easy access to.
And of shame. For if the head honcho had approved a bonus that large with lightning speed, it meant only one thing: their encounter just four days ago hadn't been real. Not emotionally real, at least. He had chosen her. He had used her. The check meant he was paying her, and if she cashed it, what did it make her? A prostitute?

Isn't that what you call a woman who accepts money in exchange for sex?
She inhaled and exhaled slowly, breasts tingling at the thought of him, his tender yet rough touch, how he played her so well and knew exactly what he wanted, precisely what she wanted, and how to make them both get exactly what they needed.
Was that really just a financial transaction? If so, she was a little heartbroken. Not a lot. Not destroyed. Not even close, actually. Just...wistful. Contemplative. Trying to understand how a passion that came at first sight could degrade so fast into an exchange of cash.
"Whatcha got there, Jessica?" Jim, the slimy account executive who falsified his business expenses and bragged about it half the time, stared at her with interest. He was about as gross as Antonio was polished, and the mere idea that both were "men," that both occupied the same classification, seemed an offense to the Creator. For years, Jim had made sure, at least once a month, to let her know he had an "open door" policy and that being married to Joe didn't mean anything to him. In his fifties and a good seventy pounds overweight, all of it in his gut, Jim was no prize, though he thought he was.

The toupee didn't fool anyone, and the ring of grey, stringy hair that haloed his balding pate made a stark contrast to the youthful, flowing locks from the false hair. Once he learned this week that Joe had left her, he'd become even more emboldened, and Jessica knew what was coming next.
If he stepped closer, he would see the check, and once the rumor mill started she wouldn't be able to shut anyone up, least of all him. Fortunately, looking at Jim made her entire body shut down, so she didn't have to worry about the milk letdown process that had started the second she thought about Antonio.
"It's nothing. Just a vendor issue," she said curtly, trying to cut off all chat. That was never easy with Jim, though, and she had to become increasingly rude. She zipped her laptop bag closed, shoved the check inside a manilla folder on her desk, crammed it into the open flap on the front of her bag, and stood. As she turned around she nearly bumped into Jim's beefy form, as he sidled in.
Oh, shit.
"So, hey, Jess," he said in a low, smoker's growl. Then he started hacking, as if the effort to be sexy were too much for his body. Sputum went flying, some landing on her sleeve, and she retreated fast, gagging and wincing. Running down the hall, she raced to the stairs, knowing he wouldn't chase her. Jim couldn't cross the entire office without wheezing, much less tackle even going
down
a flight of stairs.
Sidling down at a slow pace, her heels twisting on the metal stairs, Jessica took her time, daydreaming about the money and wishing she could leave her job. The thought startled her; she'd never wanted to be a stay at home mom, but, then again, she hadn't been sure she wanted kids, either. Now that she had Sofia, little brown-haired, blue-eyed Sofia with her two new teeth and pudgy, soft baby hands, Marcy wasn't sure that four years of undergrad and three years working to get her MBA had been worth it all.
Sofia, however, most certainly
was
.
"It's not like I have a choice," she mumbled, letting pity pool inside. Joe's leaving had made everything change. The accidental pregnancy had thrilled them both and, at first, she'd been certain Joe would be an outstanding father. He was great at the birth – attentive, staying for the two days in the hospital after, even sleeping there and waiting on her constantly. What she knew now was that he wasn't hanging around the recovery ward and post-partum wing because he was doting on Jessica and Sofia. Oh, no.
He was courting Bambi the Husband Stealer.
How he had convinced her to go off to Slovakia of all places was beyond Jessica's comprehension. And, worse, how Joe could leave his own daughter – at two months! – and not even care to see her again made Jessica's blood boil. Her sense of betrayal had zoomed to stratospheric heights on Sofia's behalf, for the tiny baby needed two parents, in Jessica's mind. She never, ever wanted to raise a child alone, and if she was honest with herself, she had still been in love with Joe. His cheating caught her completely by surprise, and it still hurt, four months later.

What kind of man falls for another women during his child's birth?

The kind who uses the same baby as a form of blackmail.
When she asked for financial help he had laughed. "If you fight me on this, Jessica, I'll just make the courts let me take her to Slovakia. I'm not paying you a bunch of money to raise a kid I never wanted in the first place," he'd said.
"What?" That blew her away. "We both chose not to use protection when we were on vacation in Cancun!"
He had faltered. "Yeah, but you were the one who refused to get an abortion."
"Are you insane?" she had shouted, triggering Sofia's cry. She crossed the room to pick up the tiny infant and rock her, speaking to Joe in a fake-happy voice, her words an enormous contradiction to her tone. "We never talked about abortion! You wanted the baby! You were excited!"
"Look, you have a choice. You make more than enough to support," he had flailed his arm in Sofia's general direction, "this. Just let me sign away my rights and you never have to worry about me again." June had been in the other room, called in by Jessica the day Joe had left, and she marched in and inserted herself between Joe and her daughter.
"Get out." Jessica had never heard her sweet-as-pie Southern belle mother's voice that deadly. "A lawyer will arrange everything, and then you crawl off like the cockroach you are."

“I never liked you either, June,” Joe had replied with venom.

“Well now, fuck off, Joe.” June had pointed her finger in his face and he had backed off, shocked. “And bless your cold little heart,” she'd added as she shoved him out the door.
And, to Jessica's enormous shock, chagrin, and relief, it had really been that easy. Joe had signed away all parental rights and Jessica had absolved him of all financial responsibility for Sofia. She had, with the stroke of a pen, made her daughter fatherless.
"Better than having him threaten to steal her so he doesn't have to pay," June had said when the papers were finalized, cradling a sobbing Jessica. The divorce was still pending, two months away from being final. Jessica couldn't wait. Between Joe and her coworker, Jim, her faith in finding decent men in this world was long gone, replaced by a determination to go it alone, Sofia her only concern now.
As she exited the stairwell and walked through the lobby to the parking garage, she felt cleansed, the memory of the past few months washing away, every recounting of it helping to lessen the pain.
The weight of her laptop case, though, dug into her shoulder, a reminder of the price she really was paying to keep Sofia safe from Joe.
And now that price wasn't as painful when she had a check for $15,000 on her.
A check she'd earned with her body and her milk.

The drive home was blissfully uneventful and when she stepped across the threshold of her home there sat her mother, holding Sofia in her lap and singing an old favorite of Jessica's “The Grand Old Duke of York.” Sofia squealed when Jessica appeared and reached for her, nuzzling Jessica's neck and making it very clear that right now, “Mommy” meant “milk.”

Settling down to nurse, Jessica got Sofia situation. The little girl let out a huge, satisfied sigh and latched on, while one hand entwined in Jessica's hair.

June smiled at her daughter, concern in her eyes, and said, “How was your day?”

Jessica opened her mouth to answer and found that she just couldn't. How was her day? What was she supposed to say?
Well, Mom, last week I fucked the owner of the company and now it turns out he's paying me $25,000 – $15,000 after taxes – for the romp on a conference table. How was your day?

“Uh, tiring, actually,” was the best she could come up with.

June's empathic smile made Jessica feel about two feet tall. “I know how hard it is to work and raise a family. But at least I had your father.” She brushed a strand of hair from Jessica's forehead and gave Sofia's arm an affectionate squeeze. Since her dad had died two years ago, Mom had seemed unmoored. Thank God she was here to help, though.

“I signed up for it, though,” Jessica replied, her body relaxing as Sofia nursed.

“You never signed up to be a single mother, Hon,” June chided. “What Joe did to you!” she spat. Mild-mannered Mom turned into a white-hot, angry tornado when it came to what Joe had done to her and Sofia.

“I know.” That had become her standard response. Mom's anger reflected her own. What more could she say?

“Well,” June sighed, stepping back and brushing her thin hands against her slacks. “What's done is done. I have a show to go to tonight, so I need to leave.” June acted as an usher at the local community theater and was often going to shows – Jessica had seen every musical on earth by the time she was ten. Mom never acted or sang, but she loved the theater.

Jessica stood, holding nearly-asleep Sofia with one arm and hugging June with the other. Somehow, the baby stayed latched on and June just shook her head.

“I never nursed you, so I don't know how that works,” she chuckled. “You sure are Superwoman, Jessica.” The door clicked shut and Jessica inhaled deeply, smelling some delicious scent of a dinner that, no doubt, June left cooking for her in the oven.

Superwoman with a $15,000 check, Mom, for doing things I don't think you've ever dreamed of.
Her eyelids drooped and she found herself nestling Sofia, shifting just enough so that they remained connected, her body relaxing until she drifted off to sleep.
Just a nap
, she told herself. Just a nap.

A jolt. She realized she Sofia might fall off the couch if she snoozed here, so within a minute she had Sofia safe in her crib, and Jessica grabbed a fleece throw and snuggled under it in her bed, falling quickly into an exhausted sleep.