Page 31 of The Grumpy Billionaire Baby Daddy

“You get a girl pregnant and then what? Treat her like trash? Yell at her whenever you feel like? Hardly ever talk to her except when you’re in the mood to yell at her some more?”

Her angry face morphs into a sorrowful expression.

“Do you think this is easy for me? You think I like my life snatched from me? You can have your business, work, and parties and I’m just supposed to hide with absolutely nothing to do. Do you ever even stop to think that I’m carrying your child?Your child.”

I fall silent, my expression contorted into a frown. My gaze drops to the brown marble tiles, and a profound stillness permeates the room. I am at a loss for words. Though I am loath to admit it, she is right that I have never contemplated how much of her life she has had to sacrifice. I raise my eyes to hers and capture a tear as it trickles down her cheek, and I feel something within me crumble as well. My mind becomes hazy as I once again succumb to the allure of her ocean-blue eyes. What is happening to me? No one has ever managed to penetrate my defenses like this before. I have always focused solely on my life and my work, never experiencing guilt for prioritizing myself. So why is this situation different?

She’s sobbing now, and my heart throbs as I take slow steps toward her. When I reach her, I lift my fingers to wipe the tears, but she turns away.

“What exactly do you want from me? I’ve given all I can. A house, protection, a way out of the mess for you. What else do you want?”

“It makes no difference if you treat me like shit while at it.”

I look away, trying to gather my thoughts. It’s not working. I’m not thinking straight.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“That’s a lie. I’m the mother of your child. You owe me respect.”

Her voice sounds like the agonizing grunt of a wounded soldier. There’s no space between us now, and as she speaks, the warmth of her breath stops my thoughts. I go blank. Looking down at her, the flashes of anger that ebb between the both of us spark a kind of electricity that I’ve never felt before. The next thing that happens is something I’ve never stopped thinking about from our first night together— my lips crashing onto hers. It happens just as intensely as the argument just moments ago. I shut my eyes, suspending my confused thoughts as my tongue finds hers. I run my hands over her thighs, digging deeper with my tongue, finding ecstasy amid bewilderment. I can tell she’s just as bewildered by how she tentatively places her arms around my neck. I grab her face, rubbing my thumbs over her skin softly. Flashes of heat rush through my body as she bites my lip. Then it dawns on me what might be happening between us.

Shit. No. No. No.

No matter how much I protest, the sensation of her lips on mine is all I can think about. It’s just like the first time at Ruthless. Slow but urgent. Then quick and hungry.

Finally, we break off. I avoid her gaze, keeping my eyes on the small table close to the door. Her breathing is loud and hitched. I try to calm my pulse, but nothing happens. I have to leave this place.

Too stunned to speak, I walk to the door and open it. I look back at her. Her breathing is still heavy. What the hell just happened? The thought of walking back to the living room annoys me and the idea of leaving her here fills me with unexplainable dread. The pull toward her is strong. I shut the door, walk to her and claim her lips again, dizzy with desire.

Chapter 11

Fiona

Asatwenty-six-year-old,I’veexperienced all kinds of confusion. But nothing prepared me for this kind of confusion —-a man is yelling at me one minute and slamming his lips onto mine like he’s starved the next minute. As I watch him walk to the door, my heart drops. A part of me wishes he’d stay some more. He stops when he opens the door, turning to stare at me. Am I imagining it, or does he look as befuddled as I feel? He lingers at the door, his eyes still fixed on me. What’s running through his mind? His midnight-dark hair shines in the light. What would it feel like to run my hands through them again? Like that night when we were caught up in sweat and wild lust. My heart stops when he shuts the door and walks back toward me.

Is this happening? Before I figure out what’s going on, his lips brush over mine, enveloping them in a passionate kiss that causes my stomach to flutter. With both hands, he grabs my face, sliding his tongue into my mouth. His hands run from my back to my ass. He grabs it, pulling me to himself. A whiff of his cologne fills my senses, and I shut my eyes, lost in the mixed scent of wood and strong fragrance. He pushes me to the table close to the door and tugs at my hoodie.

Oh, God. This is really happening.

I lift my hands as he takes the hoodie off, running his eyes over my body. He leaves my black bra in place and resumes kissing me. The thought of running my hands through his hair again fills me with anticipation, and the more I try to suppress it, the more intrusive it becomes. I lift my hand slowly and place them on his neck. He runs his hands over my thighs, pushing his fingers between my legs. I let out a short gasp, lifting my head. Finally, I let loose and grab his full dark hair. My hands run through it, and the sensation fills my chest with warmth. He breaks contact with me and steps back. My heart sinks. I should’ve known he was going to stop.

The expression on his face is difficult to read. He tilts his head for a second, looking over my body. Then he closes the gap between us again and takes my bra off, rubbing my nipples with his thumbs. I let out a soft moan, and he grunts. His hands make their way down my shorts, and he tugs at them. I waste no time taking them off. He lifts me, placing me on the table before spreading my legs and undoing his belt. When he lets himself into me, his thrusts are slow and steady at first, like his kisses, until they become quick and hungry, engulfing my entire being.

My senses disappear with every thrust leading up to the final one that causes my legs to vibrate. He’s also vibrating as he releases with a force that makes him grunt. His jaw tightens with his eyes still closed. When he opens them, darkness comes over them, and he steps away to clean and straighten himself up. He’s avoiding my gaze. I try to touch his hair again, but he stiffens, moving my hand away. My heart shatters. This was all meaningless. Of course, it was just sex and nothing more. What was I expecting? And more importantly, how did I let this happen?

“Are…are you okay?”

My voice is raspy. I clear my throat, looking up at him. He ignores me, still putting himself together.

“You’re not saying anything.”

He’s done dressing up and walks toward the door, not throwing as much as a glance my way. The ache in my chest threatens to rip me apart.

“Jason,” I call when he turns the door handle.

“Are you okay? Talk to me.”

But he doesn’t. He looks up at me, all the bewilderment in his expression wiped off. In its place is a dirty look that causes a cold shudder to run over me. He opens the door and lets himself out. I only notice that I’m crying when a tear drops on my thighs. I wipe my eyes and the snot off my nose. No. I straighten. There’s nothing to be sad about. It’s just sex. What was I expecting? That he’d be ready to come crawling to me from now on? I put my clothes back on, thinking about the first time we had sex from Ruthless. He was just as passionate, but everything disappeared after we were done. He left almost immediately without speaking to me. His expression was the same. But it didn’t bother me the last time. I didn’t know him, and I didn’t care. So, why do I care now?

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