To Want A Billionaire (The Billionaire's Baby Series Book 1) (7 page)

Of him. Of my body.

There was only more; only our bodies. Slick with desire, moans filling the darkness, fingers gripping the couch as he moved inside me on a mission to undo me and put me back together again.

He slipped an arm around my waist, his palm against my belly as he moved deeper. Pulled me further toward bliss as he let out a string of expletives, laced with sweet nothings about how good my body felt. How good I made him feel. I was overcome with pleasure. Drunk off love. Filled up. Stretched until I could take no more. Drowning in lust.

“I’m close,” I warned, pushing my hips back to meet his. Swirling them nice and slow, giving him a full taste of my wetness. Of my body.

“Come for me,” he roared. His grip and his tenor told me he was close, too.

We were at the precipice.

I didn’t teeter on the edge.

I didn’t exercise control.

When I couldn’t keep my head above water anymore, pleasure consuming every cell in my body, I did the only thing I could.

My climax poured from my mouth in a scream that sent us both careening toward bliss. Surrendering to our release.

My calendar was waiting. There weren’t enough hours in a day to do all that needed to be done, but I pushed aside everything but Jacob’s arms around me.

He pressed his lips against mine and whispered, “I know there’s a lot on your plate. Make sure you don’t forget the most important thing.”

I rustled my fingers through his dark locks, expecting something about not biting off more than I could chew. “What’s that?”

“You are important too,” he answered, pressing a palm against my belly. “You two are my entire world.”

“A
re you ready for the best baby shower
ever
?”

Under normal circumstances, my best friend, Megan Scott, was pretty much one of my favorite people ever, and her question would have been met with an equally enthusiastic response. She just had this aura, a pull that was hard to deny. I imagined that even the rambunctious student of hers, defiant until she sent them to the principal’s office, couldn’t deny that out of all the classes they raised hell in, Miss Scott’s was by far their favorite.

Unfortunately, my back hurt and her cheery reminder that today, me, my mother, and Alicia would be spending multiple hours together, made my head hurt.

Megan stood at the foot of the bed, still holding that sunshine filled smile of hers. When I peered glumly at her from the tangled covers, she turned on her heels and snatched back the curtains, flooding the room with bonafide sunshine.

“Jesus, Meg,” I groaned, wincing as I rolled away from the new day and stubbornly locked eyes with the clock on the bedside table. I refused to believe that it was 11AM. It felt like I’d just settled in the bed a few hours ago, snuggling up to Jacob and making him promise to bail me out with a Whitmore and Creighton PR emergency if things got too crazy. But reality smacked me in the head, a Jacob-sized impression left on his side of the bed. I noticed there was a glass of orange juice perched beside those laughing, red digits on the clock. Swooning a little bit, I realized there was a bottle of ibuprofen nestled beside the glass.

“My hero,” I murmured with a lazy smile, trying to muster the energy to claim the tiny pills that would help me get through this day.

“How are you still in bed?” Megan’s cheery voice had lost a bit of its pep and when I twisted my neck to the window, the sunbeams outlined her disapproval. She was the master, or mistress, of the ceremonies today and she looked the part. She wore a flowing, ivory dress that swished with every step she took. She paused a the foot of the bed, her topknot bun as strict as her tone. “You know that we have brunch at noon at Cafe 29.” She counted out every last bullet point on the itinerary with her fingers. “Then, at 1:30, we have lemonade and cookies at the park by the lake. Gelato is up next, then back here for gifts and Sullivan’s. Then we’ll wrap up the whole shebang when Marco brings his team for manis, pedis, and massages.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at the last bit and I couldn’t resist.

“We splurged and got the ‘happy ending’ package, right?”

Megan’s jade green eyes widened and I swear her pallor matched her dress. “Leila Rae Montgomery, if there wasn’t an adorable baby growing inside you, I’d smother you with a pillow.”

“Considering that would save me from playing referee with my mom and Alicia, can you make it quick?”

She smoothed invisible strawberry blonde flyaways and gave me a glare that made my blood run cold. There was a little bit of her boyfriend, Cade Wallace, facing an enemy guns blazing, in that glare.

“You won’t have to worry about them because I will personally take down anyone that disrupts your day.” She narrowed her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “Why are you still in bed?!”

I dropped my hold on the covers I’d been ready to pull over my head and held both hands up instead. “Pregnant, remember?”

She cracked the tiniest grin. “Excuses, excuses.” With a sigh, she plopped onto the bed beside me, kicking off her heels. “How are you feeling, by the way?” Before I could answer, she added, “You should be well rested after your Hawaiian escape. An escape that didn’t involve your best friend in the whole world.”

“Still holding tight to that grudge, I see,” I laughed, propping myself up on a few pillows. Even if it hadn’t been a spur of the moment surprise from Jacob, I knew she wouldn’t have been able to take the time off from work. And she’d never admit it, because it meant letting me off the hook, but she would have hated leaving her kids for longer than a few days. Public relations was my passion and teaching was hers. She loved each and every one of her students and rooted for them, cried for them, and went to bat for them. The fact that she was taking today off of work for me was a huge deal.

But it’s not just for you
, I reminded myself. It was literally the only day my mother and Alicia were both free and they’d made it very clean that neither planned to miss their first grandchild’s baby shower.

I tugged at my t-shirt, stroking my tummy before I reached for the OJ and ibuprofen. “Is it too late to BFF elope this thing? Because really, I don’t need the pomp and circumstance-”

“It’s clear that you don’t need very much, Leila,” Megan interrupted gently. I was on the verge of sticking my tongue out at her, so she rubbed my feet as a peace offering. “I’ve been to your place before and I still feel like I’m in an episode of
Cribs
.” She gave my foot a final squeeze and popped from the bed with an ease that made me a little jealous. “This view is freaking amazing, you know that?”

I scooted to the edge o the bed, swallowing a mouthful of orange juice before I answered. “I’m pretty lucky.”

It was the understatement of the century. ‘Lucky’ was dashing out of the house, ten minutes late and a cab’s waiting at the curb. Luck was forgetting your briefcase in said cab and the driver delivering it to your office. Meeting Jacob, falling in lust, then love, and marrying and starting a family with him, was something else entirely. It was a gift that I was grateful for every moment of every day.

Our home was beautiful: from the view, to the furnishings, to the bits and pieces that were ours; the pictures, the memories on the walls and draped on the couch downstairs and the kitchen, that for Jacob’s sake, I rarely used. But all the bells and whistles, the things that made editors of interior design magazines light up my inbox, dying to feature the modern luxury loft the Whitmores call home’, completely missed the most amazing part of my life. Love was what mattered. Lifting each other up, celebrating each other.

And letting yourself be celebrated
, I thought, conceding my internal war about ‘The Moms’. There were worst problems to have. There were women out there who wished they had overbearing relatives to fight over who would love the baby the most. As crazy as they made me, I didn’t want to ever lose sight of how lucky I truly was.

I finished my orange juice, took a deep breath or two and eased off the bed. The minute the floor creaked, Megan whirled back to me, hands clasped together in a mixture of relief and glee.

“Good, you’re up! What can I do to help?” Not even waiting for her marching orders, she flew to the closet, throwing on the light with a gasp of shock and awe. “Jesus Christ. I’m pretty sure your closet is bigger than my entire studio. I should shoot you my GPS coordinates so I don’t get lost.”

“Very funny,” I called after her, pausing myself to look out at the city. I was getting a later start than I was used to. Even during the vacation I was milling around at 7AM, my body still on mainland time.

Despite the fact the rest of the world got a head start on me, there was still something so liberating and empowering about looking out at the city. The concrete jungle, filled with dreams and hard work and promises. Like every day was a blank page, just waiting for you to make your mark on the world.

“How about one of these?” Megan piped behind me.

I turned and let out a snort as I scanned her outfit possibilities. The first was a white dress that was nearly identical to hers except for the ombre effect at the hemline, the white turning blue and silver. She’d even picked out some cute brown sandals. The second was a black, retro inspired romper. The off the shoulder look and embroidered white flowers would look killer with the wide brim hat she had perched on the hanger.

Her face fell when I dashed her valiant, but failed hope. “Good ideas, but I’m pretty sure the white dress wouldn’t even make it over my hips and the ladies-” I gripped my robust chest, which I swear was bigger than it was when I went to bed last night, “Will not fit in the black one.”

“Oh,” she twisted her mouth in defeat, returning them to the rack. “I was hoping we could match. Take this bestie thing to the next level.”

“I’m so on board,” I winked, walking right past all the designer and svelte pieces that I’d outgrown around month 2 of my pregnancy. There was a section of my closet that I lived in now, and that was the free flowing, breathable, functional and still fashionable section. I passed over florals and geometrics, fingertips dancing over a sleek black number that I was planning on wow-ing Jacob with very soon. I hit the brakes on a color block dress that was perfect. The top was white and the bottom half was a lush turquoise that reminded me of the beach. Just running my fingertips along the gold threads took me back to the beach. Touch alone transported me back to the sand, the ocean breeze, and virgin pina coladas served in pineapples. “How about this one?”

Megan gave it two thumbs up. “I like!” She craned her neck past me and I followed her line of sight, thinking she was drawn to the mirrors.

My heart dropped to the floor when I realized she’d locked her sights on our toy chest.

Oversized, with worn leather accents and shiny metal buckles, it definitely looked out of place among the sleek modernity of everything else in the apartment.

“What’s with the old school steamer trunk? You two hiding a body?” Megan scooted up beside me and dropped her voice confidentially. “Is Rachel Laraby in there?”

Usually, a Rachel joke, no matter how morbid, would draw at least a chuckle, but I stumbled over my words, turning red as a tomato. “We should get going, don’t want to be late for my own baby shower!”

~

E
verything was going....well?

That question mark and confusion made me warily take in the scene. A scene that should have been a horror show of epic proportions. We were beneath the gazebo in Lake Merced Park and Megan had truly outdone herself, transforming the space into something whimsical.

We’d walked the lake together when we wanted to switch it up from the gym, daydreaming about how cool a party beneath the gazebos would be. Curious for work purposes, I’d checked online and it was booked well into next year. The task of taking the rustic space and turning it into something elegant made me defer to the more capable hands of the event planners at Whitmore and Creighton.

Clearly, I had a party planning extraordinaire right under my nose.

She’d cordoned off the space around the gazebo, with white picket fence themed stakes and a security detail that stood guard and kept the paparazzi at a distance. Ivy wrapped around the posts that supported the roof, string lights twinkling in the shadows. The tables were covered with white and brown burlap cloths and wooden picture frames. There were pictures of me and Jacob and my baby bump, grinning, glowing all around. Tea light candles swayed in the breeze, and a white banner with gold lettering trumpeted #whitmorebaby2016. It should have induced hardcore eye rolling, but it was a beautiful, modern, hashtag worthy celebration. The star-studded guest list consisted of me, Megan, my mother, and Alicia Whitmore.

Snuggling in my seat in the center of the space, I stroked my belly with a smirk.
You’re gonna be instal-famous, lil mama!
Even as I placed my money on a little girl, I could hear Jacob saying that he was sure it was a boy. We’d agreed to wait until the big day to find out the gender, and it was driving our mothers crazy.

Glancing at said mothers over the rim of my sunglasses, my smile stalled on my lips.

Mom was practically rubbing shoulders with Alicia and somehow, pigs were not flying, locusts were not swarming, and the end of days were not upon us. They were even practically matching, like me and Megan. My mother wore a denim dress with pearl buttons that ran from her collar to the hem, that fell just past her knees. Her salt and pepper locks were pulled into a beehive inspired bun, and she was wearing cooler glasses than I was, the retro wings studded with pearls and crystals.

Alicia, of course, was dressed in a crisp sheath dress that was chambray colored with an ivory sweater draped across her bare shoulders. From the way she stormed in and out of our lives, I’d always pictured her in permanent shoulder pads, leaving nothing but a trail of bodies and destruction in her wake. Today, she was on her best behavior, fixing her freshly cut and colored hair in a compact. She was a newly minted blonde, with baby blue designer shades to match.