The Billionaire's Mistress Complete Series: Alpha Billionaire Romance (39 page)

BOOK: The Billionaire's Mistress Complete Series: Alpha Billionaire Romance
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Chapter Twelve
Allie

Allie

A
udrey Anne Lindstrom
lay in her crib in her nursery, my perfect little angel.

The whirlwind of activity that started within days of me seeing the little pink
plus
on the pregnancy test hadn't stopped until mid-January.

I loved the house where we’d lived, where I first slept with Jal, but he’d been insistent that his child – his children – have the kind of house that was a home, not a fortress. And he wanted us to pick it out together.

Granted, the place was still huge, but it definitely looked like a place for a family. There was a yard and a playset. And a pool – behind a stone fence with a gate.

All these
ands
– along with others like a family room with an in-home theater – were courtesy of Jal, who simply didn’t know the meaning of excess and whose bank account seemed to have no end.

I’d drawn a line at the bowling alley in the basement.

“It’s not like you’re going to go bowling anytime soon, huh?” I asked her, reaching down to stroke one plump cheek.

She jumped, but it was the touch that had made her move, not my voice.

We'd had her tested as soon as possible since there was a good chance that my mother's hearing loss was genetic. I'd been torn when the news had come back that Audrey was profoundly deaf. It didn't make her any less perfect in my eyes, but I knew how the world worked, how things would be harder for her.

But as my mother had told me a hundred times,
obstacles in life are what makes us strong
.

Audrey would be just fine.

We’d make sure of that.

Arms, warm and strong, came around me, and Jal pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Hello, my beautiful wife,” he said softly.

“Hello, my handsome husband.”

We stood there, watching Audrey sleep.

Jal stroked his hands up and down my arms, and I relaxed into the warmth of his body. “I can’t believe we have to wait three more weeks,” I said.

“After what I saw?” Jal sounded strained. “It might take me six years before I’m ready to put you through that again.”

I laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get over it.”

Turning, I slid my arms around his neck, my stomach clenching at the heat in his eyes. We might not be able to have actual sex yet, but there were still plenty of things I enjoyed doing to him in the meantime.

But that wasn't at the front of my mind at the moment. We hadn’t talked about certain…things much. After a minute, I pulled away because we needed to talk, which was hard to do it when we were so close.

I twisted my wedding ring as I looked out the window.

“You know, there are changes in medical technology, new breakthroughs,” I said. “There are so many options that weren't available for Mom or Tyson, or even TJ. We can–”

Jal cut me off with a soft kiss.

Then, he signed, “
She’s perfect. If she wants to look into options when she’s older, then we’ll support her. But to me, she’s already perfect
.”

I stepped into his embrace and rested my head on his chest. The steady sound of his heartbeat worked through me, relaxed me. It'd been nearly two years since we'd first met and our lives had been turned upside-down. Getting to where we were had been hard, but it'd been worth it.

I had a tentative, but real, relationship with my biological father now. Mallory was one of my closest friends. Jal's parents were amazing. The last of the chill between Ginnifer and me had thawed when I told her I was pregnant. Tao, Tony, and Lyrrie were still together. Diamond and Paisley were still furious, but word had gotten out about what they'd done – I was pretty sure Ginnifer had been responsible for it – and now it was the two of them that people talked about behind their backs.

“You know,” I said softly. “When you first walked into FOCUS, I couldn't have imagined that we'd end up here, like this.”

“Me either,” Jal admitted. “But I wouldn't change a thing.”

As I thought about everything that had happened, the good and the bad alike, I realized I wouldn't either. Those months had been hard, but it'd made the two of us stronger, made our relationship stronger.

“I love you.” I pushed myself up on my toes to brush my lips against his.

“I love you too.” He brushed my hair out of my face and then grinned. “Now, what do you say we find some creative ways of relieving tension that don't break the doctor's orders.”

I laughed and let him pull me from the nursery, down the hall, and into our bedroom.

The End

Turn the page and read the complete first novel from my bestselling series, Forbidden Pleasures.

Bonus Book: Forbidden Pleasures

Forbidden Pleasures

A Novel

By M.S. Parker

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 Belmonte Publishing LLC

Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC.

Chapter One

I
t happened
during my last session with my court-appointed therapist. She'd given me two pieces of advice that I decided to follow. The first was to not let anyone define who I was, to be an individual who was comfortable in her own skin. The second was to have a healthy sex life. I remember thinking that was kind of strange, considering I was only eighteen at the time.

Somehow, I doubted this was what she pictured when she'd imparted those words of wisdom.

The man beneath me moaned as I rode him. The muscles in my thighs were starting to burn with each rise and fall, but I didn't slow. I kept my eyes open, my head down, but I barely registered the pretty-boy features of the young man I'd picked up just an hour ago. My hands splayed on his muscular chest, helping me balance.

“Fuck, babe, you're so tight.”

Okay, so I hadn't picked the guy for his eloquence, but he had a nice thick cock and no issues with me calling the shots. That's what mattered.

I flexed my muscles the way I'd been taught, and he swore again. “I work out,” I said and flexed again.

I leaned forward, and he pushed himself up on his elbows, his mouth latching on to a pale pink nipple. My eyelids fluttered as he sucked on it, his tongue and teeth teasing, but I didn't close my eyes. I always fucked with my eyes open… always. Lights on. No exceptions.

“Harder,” I said and ground down, the angle allowing just the right amount of friction on my clit. I was close. The pressure inside me was at the point where I had to come or explode. “Come on... baby.” I almost tripped over not knowing his name, but I caught myself. “Suck harder. Make me come.”

Technically, I was doing most of the work, but he deserved a little credit for his nice cock and the wonderful things his mouth was doing to my breast, especially when he followed my directions. Never underestimate the importance of a man who does what he's told.

“Ah,” I moaned as the suction increased, sending jolts of intense pleasure from my breasts straight to my throbbing pussy. I moved one of my hands to the place where my body joined with his and my fingers found my clit. I rubbed it with quick, rapid circles, the combined friction and pressure making it hurt beautifully. I always needed that edge.

“Fuck, I'm gonna...” The guy's words turned into a loud grunt as his hips jerked up against me, his final thrusts hard and fast.

The hand not between my legs moved to my breast. Even as I felt my partner's cock begin to pulse inside the condom, it was my turn. A light pinch and twist to my nipple, and I was there. My muscles tensed and my pussy contracted around the thick shaft inside. The nameless young man swore again, his face a mask of pain-pleasure. As I descended from my high, I rolled off him, and his now-sensitive cock slipped out. I lay on my side, breathing heavily and enjoying the little bursts of electricity racing along my nerves, the aftershocks of a pretty good orgasm. Eight on a scale of ten.

He moved closer and I immediately stiffened, adrenaline flooding my system. I jerked upright, pushing myself back until I was well out of arm's reach.

“Easy, babe.” He gave me a smile, showing a set of deep dimples that went perfectly with his baby blues. He leaned on his elbow. “That was amazing.”

I nodded in agreement and climbed off the narrow dorm bed. College boys were easy, but their beds were generally shit. I picked up my underwear and bra.

“Leaving already?”

I glanced at him as I dressed. He hadn't moved, even to cover himself.

“Come back,” he continued. “Give me ten minutes and an energy drink from the mini-fridge, I'll be good to go again.”

It wasn't even remotely tempting since that would mean at least ten minutes of small talk, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I wasn't a bitch, no matter how often I'd been called one. “Thanks, but no. I have to go to work.”

He glanced at the clock, a puzzled expression settling on his handsome face. “It's three in the afternoon.”

I smiled and shrugged as I adjusted my tank top. His eyes locked onto the bit of cleavage the tight black top exposed. I didn't say anything. He'd seen them bare. As long as he kept his hands to himself now, he could look all he wanted.

“Will I see you around?” He sat up, but didn't reach for me.

“Probably not for a while,” I answered truthfully. While I liked coming to campus, I generally tried not to frequent the same places when I had an itch to scratch. No matter how good the sex, I rarely repeated. I knew society liked to pretend it was the women who got clingy, but I'd met plenty of men who thought a couple roles in the hay meant we were a regular thing.

I smoothed down my miniskirt and pulled on my nearly knee-high boots. I had two pairs, but these were my favorites. The four-inch heels raised me close to five-eight and I preferred being tall. Plus, if I ran into any trouble, they packed a hell of a kick.

“Where do you work?”

I gave him a small smile, but didn't answer. I scanned the carpet. One of my earrings had fallen out. I still had the other three in my right earlobe, but the hoop from the cartilage at the top was missing.

“Let me guess.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn't see my face. I knew what was coming. I knew how people saw me. I'd dyed my hair several times over the years, but for the past six months, I had rocked a bright blue. It was cropped short, angled at my chin in a way that kept my heart-shaped face from looking too delicate. My eyes were a pale gray that most people thought were contacts though they were one hundred percent natural. Aside from the multiple piercings in my ears, I also had an eyebrow ring and one in my bellybutton. That, plus my numerous tattoos and the way I dressed, meant people generally made the wrong assumptions regarding my occupation.

“Dancer at The Blue Moon?”

At least he’d picked one of the classier strip clubs in the area. I had a feeling more than one of my conquests over the past three and a half years had gone trolling clubs looking for me. The thought was amusing. What did it say about the state of feminism in society when a woman couldn't express herself through her appearance without people assuming she was a stripper?

I finally spotted the small silver hoop and slid it back into place with practiced ease. “It was fun,” I said as I headed out the door.

By the time I reached the dorm lobby, I was already running through my schedule for the day, my encounter all but forgotten. I only had two jobs today, but the second had a long list of things I needed to do, most of which had to wait until everyone at the company had gone home. Those were my second favorite kind of jobs, because it meant I rarely had anyone staring at me or trying to talk to me while I worked. The best work was, of course, the kind I could do from home. I liked crowds at clubs and concerts, the anonymity that came with being part of the masses, but I wasn't a social person. There was only so much personal interaction I could handle at a time. I'd heard half a dozen psychological diagnosis as well as a multitude of reasons behind them. I had a simpler explanation that I preferred.

I didn't play well with others.

* * *

T
he brisk wind
that greeted me as I stepped outside was much chillier than it had been less than an hour ago. Autumn really had come to Colorado. I shivered and pulled my long-sleeved shirt more tightly around me. I'd been debating about stopping home before hitting my first appointment—the weather just cinched it. Coming home late tonight without a jacket would suck.

I headed toward the apartments that sat on the edge of the Colorado State University campus. They were a nice mix of graduate students, married students and recent graduates in the transition stage between college and real life. Age-wise, I fit in with them, even though I'd graduated three years ago. I didn't really hang out with any of them though. I preferred my own company. I could trust myself.

I didn't even give the 'out of order' sign by the elevator a second glance; it had only worked the first year I'd lived here. I didn't mind the walk up three flights of stairs most of the time. Less time I had to spend on the treadmill at the gym. It was a real bitch when I had to carry stuff though.

The apartment was small, but I didn't need a big place. When you grow up with hardly any room to move, a one-bedroom with a kitchen, bathroom and living room all to myself was a luxury. The place was neat and simple, the furniture a mismatch of clunky college thrift store finds and the nicer pieces I'd been slowly buying. A bedroom suite had been my first purchase, a celebration of my first self-employment check. I didn't go in the bedroom though. I didn't need to. Still, I paused at its doorway and looked at my place, allowing myself to feel the satisfaction of knowing I'd accomplished all this on my own.

I swapped my outer shirt for my favorite leather jacket and headed back out. Nothing like a good fuck and then a little affirmation of how far I'd brought myself. I wasn't a shrink, but I thought I was pretty well-adjusted. Considering other people who'd gone through the same things I had were either dead, drug addicts or prostitutes, I felt a pat on the back was well-deserved.

I was still in a good mood when I strolled in to Khan and Associates, and the secretary glaring at me only brightened my day. She was a new addition since the last time I'd been here, which meant I was going to enjoy this.

“May I help you?”

If she'd had glasses, she would've glared at me over their rims. I plunked my backpack down on her desk just to see her eye twitch.

“I'm here to see Ms. Khan.” I kept my tone polite and professional. “She's expecting me.”

“Take a seat.” The secretary gave me one of those condescending looks that women like her seemed to reserve for people like me. “I'll get to you when I get to you.”

I laughed and the scowl deepened, creating an array of tiny wrinkles on her forehead. If she kept that up, she'd make herself look years older than she was. “Check your appointment book. Lang Tech Consulting.”

She didn't even pretend to look at her computer or the calendar on the desk. Instead, she pointed toward the chairs and looked at me like I was something to scrape off the bottom of her shoe. My mild annoyance started to turn into actual anger. I didn't show it though. Even as good as I was at my job, if I got too mouthy, people wouldn't overlook my appearance to hire me.

“Ma'am,” I spoke through gritted teeth. “I'm going to say this one more time and then I'm going to make a call that you really don't want me to make. Let Ms. Khan know I'm here.”

“Excuse me?” She stood up, leaning toward me with her hands on the desk.

I was sure the look she was giving me had quelled plenty of people who seemed tougher than me. Unfortunately for her, my past was full of people a hell of a lot scarier than a middle-aged secretary with a superiority complex.

I sighed and straightened. “Don't say I didn't warn you.” I pulled my phone from my bag and scrolled through my business contacts. I tapped on the right name and waited.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Khan, this is Jenna Lang.”

“You're late, Ms. Lang.” My client's voice was sharp.

“Yes,” I agreed. “I've run into a bit of a snag and it doesn't look like I'll make it in.”

“Ms. Lang,” Ms. Khan interrupted. “Is there a point to this? You're far too professional to sound so flippant about canceling at the last minute.”

“Indeed,” I said. “Your secretary seems to be under the impression that my presence here is unwelcome.”

Ms. Khan muttered something under her breath that could have been a series of swear words. “I'll be right there.”

I ended the call, put my phone back in my bag and then gave the secretary a sugar-sweet smile. “It'll be just a minute.”

“Young lady,” she said, far from threatened. “And I use that term very loosely, if you don't turn around and start walking toward that door, I will call security and watch them haul your slutty little ass right out of here.”

A door at the end of the hall opened, then closed, and I took a step back from the desk. A flash of triumph crossed the secretary's face and I knew she thought she'd won.

“Sandra!”

I couldn't stop the smirk when I saw the secretary's face go pale. I didn't want her to get fired, but I'd have been lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to witnessing her bubble get popped.

“Ms. Khan.”

“Didn't Ms. Lang tell you that she had an appointment with me?”

The secretary glared at me, crossed her arms and turned back to her boss. “No, ma'am, she just marched right in here and demanded to see you.”

My smile disappeared. She was seriously going to stand there and lie? I glanced at Ms. Khan. The woman was impeccably dressed, as always, the picture perfect business woman. She didn't look at me, but I could tell her face was blank.

“Your job, Sandra, is to make inquiries in situations such as this, not prevent work from getting done. Something to keep in mind for the future.” Ms. Khan turned back the way she'd come, making an impatient gesture over her shoulder. “Come on, Ms. Lang. I'm not letting you bill me for the time you've wasted.”

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