Page 7 of Secret Baby: Billionaire Stepbrother

“Curl your legs up,” he ordered, as I grabbed the rock-hard mound of his upper arm, which was locked, and then he started slowly fucking me as I lay sideways on the bed.

My pussy was so sensitive with the climax barely gone and Beck’s thickness filled me so completely, it started igniting it again. He leaned on one arm to grasp my breast and tweaked the nipple, which seem to connect directly to my pussy, and made me greedily humped back on him.

“Beck, Beck,” I gasped.

“Fuck,” he growled, and he started thrusting faster, until his abdomen and my behind were slapping together.

I climaxed in that position less than five minutes later, with my cries unraveling. Still shuddering and gasping, Beck turned me onto my belly and he pulled me to the end of the bed. He stood over me to fuck me through to another climax moments later. That’s when he finally let loose and he groaned, until I felt his hot seed start to fill me.

I’d been so crazy with passion, it hadn’t occurred to me— “Pull out,” I cried, reaching back to slap his hip.

“No,” he snarled, and he slammed into me again, and I felt more of his hot come burst inside me. So much of it, it began slicking down my inner thighs.

“Why,” I cried, as he stayed buried as deep inside me as he could go, and then he dropped his upper body over mine, until his hot breath was near my ear. “I’m not on the pill!” I hissed.

“Maybe there will be two babies, I’ll take from you in court,” he growled.

Beck pulled out of me after those cruel words, and he left me laying over the end of the bed with his come dripping slowly down my inner thighs.

He’s making me pay, I thought. He hadn’t meant it; he hadn’t got carried away with attraction for me like I had for him. He was just making me pay.

After that, Beck’s hooded gaze watched me get up naked and go to the bathroom to clean up. He’d pulled on his unzipped jeans and sat sprawled in a chair.

I couldn’t find my thong, but I wasn’t about to ask him. In his bathroom mirror, I looked like a slut that had just been fucked, and I couldn’t believe this side of Beck. I’d thought I knew him well enough, but the Beck I knew would never have done this.

Maybe I was so appalled at my own behavior that I didn’t know what to say, because normally I would stand up to Beck and argue with him. But this time I was devastated that the passion had only been one-sided.

So instead of being smart and trying to figure out what was going on, I came out of the bathroom, grabbed my purse, and yelled at him, “I hate you!”

Then I stormed out of the room.

Chapter Six

After that I didn’t see Beck for a week, while I worried myself crazy over when I’d get summoned to court. It was hard to go back to work and concentrate, but I had to make a living.

Then, I was driving up to my house on Friday night, at the end of the work week, when I saw a motorcycle sitting in the dusk in my driveway. I could barely make out a large leather-clad man leaning against the motorcycle.

When my headlights hit the figure, I saw it was Beck and my heart leaped and clenched in alternate beats. I looked back at Bartie in the back seat—I had just picked him up from the sitters and as usual with car rides he was dozing.

I couldn’t imagine what it meant seeing Beck before hearing from his lawyers, but God did he have to look so hot. His bad boy biker look instantly made my girlie parts tingle.

I left Bart in the car as I got out and looked over the hood of my SUV at Beck.

“I want to see Bart,” he said, without preamble. He didn’t sound mad exactly, and stupid parts of me were excited Bart’s dad wanted to see him. God, I made no sense whatsoever.

“I’m not sure it would be wise of me to let the man who is trying to take him away from me do that,” I said, as evenly as I could.

Beck straightened from his motorcycle, but he didn’t come closer.

“Is that any worse than keeping a man’s baby from him?” he asked. I flinched, and started to speak from a place that hurt so bad. But Beck held up his hand. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I have anger issues about that I’m still working through.”

I worried my teeth over my bottom lip ... he had a right to have anger issues about what I had done, still after that scene in his hotel room—

“Look, Millie, you hate me now so we don’t have to worry about the brother and sister attraction and getting together thing any longer, and if we can just come to a visitation agreement, I don’t really want to take you to court.”

My heartbeat was slamming against my chest as he spoke, and nothing he said relieved it, but I had to do what was best for Bart.

Still, I couldn’t help the broken part of me from whispering, “What if there is another baby.”

I saw Beck’s intensity, before he uttered, “Then I’ll help take care of both of them.”

“Wow.” I hadn’t really meant for that to come out of my mouth, but it seemed Beck was willing to go to extraordinary lengths to be a part of his son’s life.

“I know I’m an ass, Millie, and I swear I will work through it. You know me well enough; you know my word is good.”

So that was how I warily let Beck into my house to have dinner with us and then I watched as Beck fed Bart, gave him a bath, changed his diapers, and played with him until he put him to bed. I was probably an idiot for allowing it after what Beck did to us, but he was right, I did know him well enough.

As I watched him with Bart, I started to remember how well I did know my stepbrother and I realized he might threaten me during the times I became unreasonable, but in reality he would never take me to court. And I realized it had been his anger talking.

We were standing over Bart’s crib with Beck tucking him in, Bart had just fallen asleep, when I took total advantage of the situation, and I whispered, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t have to accept it, but I have to say it to you.”

Beck’s compelling gray eyes looked over at me; he’d been good company to Bart and to me. He’d been civil and reserved. “Some day when I’m ready to hear it, can you tell me why,” he asked quietly.

That so tugged at my heart, I nodded, and whispered back, “I can try.”

At the door, letting Beck out shortly after, he turned to me and said, “In this town no one knows us—I’m his dad.”

Then he disappeared into the darkness and my heart actually hurt. It looked like Bart was getting a reprieve—but I wasn’t, because I had ruined any chance I ever had with Beck.

***

I was very glad that Beck took it slow with us for the next couple weeks. He’d come by in the evenings, not every one, but he’d insist I go do things that I needed to get done, while he totally took care of Bart. And Bart couldn’t have been happier, because Beck got the boy stuff better than I did, so there were the craziest noises that would come from Bart’s room when the two of them were playing, with Bart’s giggles following.

I’d just shake my head and work on my designs, while trying very hard to not be attracted to Beck. Every time he’d come over, I would give myself stern inner lectures about how he and I could do this, and it was time to grow up and move past our younger crushes.

Unfortunately, every single night afterward, I’d lie in bed trying to go to sleep with my body humming with arousal that would not leave me alone, until I had gotten my vibrator out with images of Beck haunting me. I worried over how badly he’d used me ... and what kind of person that made me, to still be so attracted to him.

But most of the time I was successful in hiding it, and Beck acted as if he’d gotten his attraction to me sated that fateful morning I had visited him in his hotel suite, and now he was past lusting after me.

“I got this for you,” Beck said, as he was putting on his leather jacket to leave that night. “Just let me know.” He nodded to the brown paper sack that had me curious. Then he blew me away. “I’d like you to think about letting me babysit Bart when you work. Just think about it, we can talk later.” He’d said it at the door, and then he was gone.

“Hell,” I exclaimed, because I was alone and I could. “This stuff never gets easier.”

Then, because I was dying to know, I went to the brown sack and opened it. That’s when my world tilted sideways and I had to grab the counter. Inside was a pregnancy test.

I stood there trying to breathe for a little while, then once I got over my shock, I tried to reason out Beck’s actions. The only thing I could come up with was he was apologizing through his actions. No words—he was just doing it.

“I kind of wished he would say the words though,” I muttered.

I needed to be sure I was right.

Chapter Seven

Beck was pushing Bart in his stroller out of the lobby of his hotel, after Millie had started letting him take Bart during the day, when he ran into someone he knew.

“Damn, is that you, Beck?” a big quarterback-looking guy said out front. The guy looked like he’d been getting into a cab.

Bart was fussing for his bottle that he’d dropped so Beck only glanced at the guy.

“Yeah, I’m Beck,” he muttered, digging Bart’s bottle out of the folds of his blanket and handing it to him. Then Beck straightened and looked at the man. “James, hell, is that you?”

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