Expecting my Billionaire Stepbrother's Baby (a Stepbrother Romance Novel) (6 page)

My eyes rolled back as he thrust two thick fingers into me. The feeling of him inside me was amazing, and my hips pulsed in rhythm with his movements, grinding against him as his fingers curled in my channel.

All of a sudden, without thinking, my hands were on his belt, pulling and yanking, trying to undo the stiff leather from around his waist.

Nothing mattered anymore except having him one last time. That was all I needed in order to get on with a life away from him, I told myself. Another memory of him I’d keep safe and tucked away, nurturing it during my time away from him.

After this, I swore to myself that I would never see him again. That this would the last time.

Once Drake assisted in loosening his belt, I fiddled with the top button, pulled down the zip and eased my hand inside his trousers. His boxers were silky, the outline of his hard cock unmistakable under the material.

I licked my lips as the tips of my fingers smoothed over and around the head of his cock. Drake growled with pleasure; playtime was over.

He shoved his pants down around his ankles, his cock eager and ready, and pulled me to him. With strong arms he lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and slammed me against the wall.

The hunger in his eyes made my heart skip several beats. He wanted something and he was going to get it, and god only knows how much I wanted him to ravish me, too.

I hung my arms around his neck, holding on tight as his huge cock nudged at my pussy. Drake pulsed his hips forward, ramming himself into me, and I almost screamed in pleasure.

With power and force he drove his cock into me, like a madman taking what was rightfully his. I locked my ankles around each other, desperately clinging as I was fully impaled over and over again.

The constant filling sensation curled a spinning thread within me, like a tightening coil that was getting ready to explode.

Drake panted close to my ear as his hips continued to piston into me.

“I changed my mind. Don’t go, please don’t go,” he whispered in between breaths.

I bit my tongue as I edged the crest of an unstoppable wave of ecstasy. Wanting to stay on top of that peak for as long as possible, I bit harder.

But it was no use, Drake nibbled at my earlobe, my nails dug into his neck as my whole body tensed up, and I toppled over the edge, bursting like a ripe fruit as I hit the bottom. My juices exploded from within, around his meaty cock, sending shockwaves like surges of electricity battering at my centre.

As my walls clenched around Drake’s rod, tightening my pussy, he started to cry out a deep, guttural, primal bellow. The shout almost deafened my left ear, as his cock, for the last time, let loose his seed within me.

For a split second, the dream that had been dashed earlier in the day came back to life in full force, as I thought again about the baby I could give him, the family we could potentially have. The dream was so real in my mind – the temptation to make it come true almost caused me to think of giving in and fighting for him.

But once I opened my eyes again, and I knew I was only kidding myself. I’d lost myself during that moment, giving in to a fantasy that could never be. I caught my breath, unlatched my legs from around his waist and pushed him away without saying another word. If I let him hold me, if I nuzzled into his warm embrace, I would never leave.

Smoothing my skirt I turned and pressed the elevator button before I could change my mind.

D
rake’s shoulders
sagged as he watched me leave, and the elevator doors closed upon his crumpling face. Staggering back into the corner of the enclosure I held on tight to the railing; the cold metal on the skin of my hands was the wakeup call I needed, like a splash of freezing water against my face that had been cosy and safe in a dream world.

Leaving him was the right thing to do, I reasoned. But the more I thought about the last words he whispered into my ear the more I wanted to stop the elevator and go back to him.

Oh, god, what had I done? The tears came, and my insides felt as if I’d just been ripped open, like in some horror movie. I hugged around my middle and fell to the floor. Why did it hurt so much?

I wished I could stay in my ball of misery on the floor, I wished Drake had stopped me. A torrent of
what ifs
flooded my mind… I was drowning and there was no one but myself to save me.

The elevator slowed its descent as it approached the ground floor, and on shaky feet I picked myself up and dusted off my clothes.

My face would be a mess no matter what I did to it, red and blotchy, puffy and wet, but I wiped my hands over my cheeks and breathed in and out in attempt to calm the panic.

I lifted my head, ready to walk straight ahead. I wouldn’t glance at the concierge or the doorman, I’d bolt out of there as soon as possible and never look back. The enclosure around me was suffocating; fresh air was the only remedy, and it felt like an age before the doors slid open.

“Oh, hello Viola,” Christine said greeting me. “What are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be looking after Leah!”

Deja-fucking-vu. Was I trapped in some Groundhog Day type paranormal event? Could I not have a single moment in my life that this bitch didn’t intrude upon?

The urge to scream swelled in my throat, but instead I scowled at her. The time for being pleasant was over. I no longer had in me to be polite.

“Screw you, Christine,” I spat. “I’m not the one who abandoned her.”

“What did you say to me?” she said, her hand clasping her cheek as if I’d slapped her. Maybe I should have.

“You heard. You’re a liar, a cheat and a bad mother.”

“How dare you? I’ll see to it that you’re fired!”

“Don’t bother, I’ve quit.” I stepped out of the elevator and knocked past her. Christine wobbled on her heels and grabbed for the wall, bracing herself and looking stunned. Her cheeks reddened as the front desk attendant’s head bobbed up to see what all the noise was about.

Out the corner of my eye, a hefty security guard cautiously approached.

“Mrs Millar, is everything OK?” a clerk called from the desk.

“She’s not Mrs Millar anymore, you idiot!”

No longer able to hold my tongue, I turned to face Christine, “Oh by the way, does Drake know you were off fucking some bearded bloke today? So much for wanting a second chance with him!”

Her mouth rounded into a wide open O. Caught off guard she spluttered and choked on words that would not come.

“Maybe I should tell him, eh? See if he keeps you around then?”

“Get her out of here!” Christine managed to scream, waving frantically at the men circling me.

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.”

“I’m going!” I shouted, as one of them cupped my elbow and escorted me out of the building.

The man let go of me, and I paused in the middle of the pavement, my head held high, breathing in the cleansing air. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said all those things to her, but dammit, did it feel good to get it off my chest, to put her in her place even if it were only for a little while.

Christine would probably soon forget I even existed; she’d slap a fake smile upon her perfectly made-up face and go back to pulling the wool over Drake’s eyes. I shook my head, still fuming. How could he be so blind when it came to her? Ever since high school he’d been under her spell.

I glanced up and down the street and considered my options. I had none. I blew the only chance I’d had at getting back on my feet, sorting my life out. Admittedly I was an abysmal at doing this whole adult thing; I made the wrong choices at every turn.

Sighing, I picked up my bags and started to walk, regretting handing over my car keys to Drake - but he was right, the car was a wreck and falling apart. I let my feet find their way as I tried to figure out what to do next.

I
was getting by
. Just.

Living day by day, not even thinking of the future anymore. And I’d almost managed to keep thoughts of Drake at bay when it happened.

My feet ached from pulling another double shift at an all-night greasy spoon cafe that was nestled against the back wall of a busy bus station. I stank of old grease, dried-on egg and exhaust fumes, but at least I was getting paid and had access to all the meals I wanted.

The owner, Phyllis, had taken pity on me, giving me a place to work and a place to stay. She was a good soul - I don’t know where I’d be if she hadn’t caught me cleaning myself in the cafe’s bathroom after living rough in the bus station for a few days.

She fed me, and in exchange I’d spilled my life story. It’d been good to get it out. Phyllis had a small flat above the café, and she rented me her small box room. It was filled with cardboard boxes of napkins, plastic cutlery and other such sundries for the café below. My bed was a simple cot, one of those tent beds, with a sleeping bag as a duvet. It was a far cry from the room in Drake’s apartment, but it was enough for now and much better than a bus bench on the street. Things were getting better; I had food in my belly and a steady job.

Phyllis had always had trouble filling the nightshifts, but after a few weeks of building up her trust, I’d taken them on - they paid a little more, it was just the weirdoes you had to watch out for.

I wanted to rub my feet, but I still had a few more tables to clear before it was time to hand over my apron to the early morning shift. A lingering customer who seemed to have a steel bladder - so far the man had consumed over five cups of tea at my last count - waved me over.

“Can I get you something else?” I asked flipping over a page of my creased notebook.

“Think I’m ready for my brekkie now, Luv,” he said, folding over his tabloid newspaper, and I raised my eyebrow in surprise. All I wanted to do was clear up and sit down.

“Full English?”

He nodded, “Extra fried toast, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure, won’t be long,” I replied and pushed through the tiredness that was threatening to keel me over.

As soon as I went behind the counter, the smell of rotten eggs hit me like a sulphur tidal wave, and I brought my hand over my gagging mouth. Confused, I tried to make sense of the smell. The small preparation area was perfectly clean; I’d only moments ago wiped it down.

Steeling my stomach, I braved a couple of steps more to investigate, but the wave of nausea was too overpowering. My stomach tossed and turned like a dingy adrift on the stormy seas, and my mouth was flooded in an instant with saliva.

Knowing what was about to come, I bolted out from behind the counter and hightailed it into the restroom that served both staff and customers.

“You alright, Luv?” I heard the man ask in the distance.

Grateful I’d made it in time, I buried my head in the toilet and retched, my tummy evacuating everything it could.

My eyes stung from the effort and tears welled to soothe them. What was that all about? I pondered. Food poisoning?

The sausages hadn’t smelled off when I’d cooked them earlier…

I swilled my mouth out and cleaned my face, splashing cold water onto it, as my mind recalled all the food I’d consumed the last day or so. Nothing sprang to mind that could potentially turn my stomach upside down. And what the hell was with that smell?

My hand wavered over my stomach, patting it absent-mindedly. It wasn’t like me to get sick, I thought.

Shaky, I made my way out of the bathroom. I had to pull myself together; I had a breakfast to cook. But just the thought of all that food, runny eggs, greasy bacon and slimy baked beans, almost threatened to send me back into the toilet’s cubicle.

“You look a little pale,” the man called over. He stood and began to approach me as I hung on to the counter for support.

“I’m OK, just a bit queasy,” I replied, waving at him not to come any farther. I did feel rather green, though.

“Think it best if you sit down.”

I shook my head and smiled, “Are you going to cook your breakfast yourself?

“It can wait. You look like you’re gonna faint any moment,” he said and kindly pulled out a chair and led me to it.

“I’ll be fine. Not sure what came over me,” I said, but I didn’t resist the seat he’d offered me. “Don’t worry, I don’t think its food poisoning,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood. I was half expecting him to pull out a phone and call for an ambulance. A trip to the emergency room was the last thing I needed. A lie down, in a soft bed, would be enough to sort me out.

“Hey, you aren’t preggers are you?”

“What? No,” I replied instantly. Then as his words rattled around in my head, sinking down, my eyes widened as I considered the possibility.

Drake and I had only done it twice within the space of a day or so, but what do they always say?
It only takes one time…

And we’d never used protection.
I’d even encouraged him to forgo it.

“I don’t know…” I said, my words trailing off. The more I thought about the timing and the dates, the more the idea became real. “Oh, god.”

I could be carrying Drake’s baby. My stepbrother’s child. I didn’t know how I felt about the idea. At one point, for one fleeting moment, it had been everything I’d ever dreamed of. I’d longed for it as he took me on the bed, his cock in me, filling me up with his seed. I’d even flashed upon the idea as he fucked me against the wall for the very last time. Baby fever gone mad, I thought.

No, it couldn’t be true. I was just sick, coming down with the flu or something.

The number of people that came through here, spreading their germs everywhere, it was a wonder I hadn’t got sick sooner. But my hopeful hand lingered over my belly, and a tiny smile made the corners of my mouth twitch.

T
hirty-six
, thirsty-seven, thirty-eight. Oh come on!

I drummed my fingers on the edge of the small bath tub as I sat, squeezed into side of the room, lid down on the toilet, waiting for the moment of truth. Phyllis’ bathroom was even smaller than the room she was renting to me, if it could be believed… there wasn’t even room to pace in here, and I so desperately needed to put my twitchy muscles to use.

Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one. How long did I have to wait again? Maybe if I just peeked?

Luckily, I had enough in my budget to afford a pregnancy test, and I’d forked out for one of the fancy digital ones - you had to be sure, right? The plastic contraption that would determine my fate balanced on the edge of the sink, barely out of my reach. Biting my lip I tried to think of anything else, but whispers of hope trickled through me; a fluttering of potential names flashed before my eyes.
Oliver was a nice name for a boy. Did I want a boy, though?
Or a
sister for Leah?

I shook my head, scrambling the tempting thoughts away. Getting my hopes up would be the end of me if a little plus sign failed to show up upon the screen.

But even if you are pregnant, what are you going to do? You can’t raise a baby in a cell-like room. You’ll have to tell him…

Talking to the practical side of myself was like slowly pulling on a waxed strip attached to a month’s growth of leg hair; it was agony, but you knew it had to be done, you couldn’t ignore it or leave it stuck on there for good. I didn’t want to listen to my rationale, and the last person I wanted to see was Drake after everything that had happened.

But he has a right to know!

“Shut up!” I muttered to myself. This isn’t getting me anywhere, I thought, let’s see what the outcome is before we start making any rash decisions.

Reading the back of the pregnancy test box, I squinted at the instructions - three minutes for an accurate result.
I’d waited long enough, surely?

Sod it!
I bolted from the fluffy padded toilet cover and grabbed the plastic length and closed my eyes.

This was it. This was the moment when my life could change forever, I thought, preparing myself.

I opened my lids and looked down. All of a sudden my vision blurred, and I had to blink away a watery onslaught that leaked from my eyes.

I
was pregnant
. Oh, god.

And the father was my stepbrother. I brought a hand to my mouth in attempt to cover the smile that I knew was wrong.

The little plus sign was clear as day. POSITIVE. I wanted to shout the news from the rooftop, I was so happy, and yet I had no one to tell. No one to share the news with. Phyllis didn’t really count; she was kind enough, but I had no illusions of her becoming a surrogate mother or grandmother to my future child.

The small flat was becoming too claustrophobic, being filled with my buzzing thoughts and worries, so I decided to get some fresh air and strolled to the park opposite the bus station.

Sitting on a worn wooden bench, I pondered over my options. I had to tell him, right? He’d want to know. But our taboo relationship surly meant he wouldn’t be able to have an active role as a father. A very close uncle, maybe. I groaned. It wasn’t what I wanted. The family I’d always promised myself, ever since I was little, was slowly withering away. A broken family had not been in my plans. Never mind a secret love child.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Hello?” I asked without looking at the caller id.

“Hello, Viola. I’m glad you’re answering my calls now. We have a lot to discuss.”

Shit. It was Freddy.

“Freddy, I’m sorry I still don’t have your money, but I promise I’m working on it,” I said, a whimper escaping. Visions of broken legs and bloodied noses flashed before my eyes, the outcome for not paying people like Freddy back in time. And now I had much more precious cargo growing in my belly to protect.

This was not how I envisaged my first few weeks of being pregnant. I rubbed my bent head.

“You’ve had long enough,” he growled down the phone.

“Please, Freddy, a couple more weeks?” I pleaded.

“Tell me where you are, Vi, and I’ll think about it,” he said.

The last thing I wanted to do was tell him my location. I’d managed to escape his clutches once before, and I wasn’t willingly going to subject myself or my unborn child to a face-to-face encounter with him.

“I can’t do that,” I whispered.

“Then I’ll just have to find you,” Freddy said and ended the call. The monotonous tone beeped like a body flat-lining, unable to be saved.

Shit. I was in so much trouble. Freddy would not be pleased once he caught up with me. Should I run again? But to where? I couldn’t start again. No, this was no longer about me alone. I wasn’t going to subject a child to a life of danger. I’d have to swallow my pride and seek help one way or another.