Billionaire's Forbidden Baby: BWWM Interracial Alpha Male Baby Romance Novel (2 page)

“That’s it, sugar. Scream for me,” he hissed into her ear, and she gladly did as she was told.

Her body cramped and flexed, and she screamed pure release. He growled, and with a few jerky thrusts, she knew he was close. Her hands slid over his ass and squeezed the hard, perfect muscles. The satisfying slump of his body and gasp for breath, hidden under a deep growl, told her that she’d treated him to the same kind of pleasure he’d shown her.

He rolled off of her and pulled her to him in the same smooth move, her head soon resting on his wide chest.

“That was better than any coffee. Wouldn’t mind this every morning,” he said, a satisfied exhaustion creeping into his tone.

She murmured something unintelligible in response. That was all she could muster, really. Her dark hair spread around her like a halo, tumbling over the planes of his chest in a silky waterfall. That Brazilian blowout had been completely worth the money, even if it wasn’t going to help her much during her big presentation that day. The presentation! Shit.

Kiara sat up suddenly, ramrod straight, whipping her head around in a desperate search for her phone.

“Hey, where’s the rush? We
can
have coffee too, you know,” he joked with a playful smirk, hoisting himself on one elbow.

Dammit. He was just as hot when he wasn’t making love to her. No, not love. Sex! That’s all it was, right? Kiara pulled a hand through her hair, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed and scrambling up on her feet. She tossed through the clothes that were sprawled all across the bedroom and seemed to lead out to the rest of the apartment (which she’d barely glanced at as they’d made their entrance in the middle of the night), her heartbeat pummeling loudly in her ears.

“Where is it!” she screeched.

“Where’s what?”

“My phone,” Kiara huffed, finally finding her purse tossed under a chair next to the door.

She pulled it out and time seemed to slow down for a fraction of a second. It was 9:05. Her meeting was in 40 minutes. And she didn’t even know where she was. Or with whom she was! There weren’t enough curse words to convey her sudden and urgent disappointment with herself. She should have known better than to agree to have tequila shots with a man who looked like trouble.

“Not a bad view,” he mused.

Kiara’s eyes widened in realization, peeking over her shoulder. She was on her knees, hunched over with her plump ass up in the air and he – whoever he was – was obviously enjoying the view.

“Do you mind?”

“No, no I don’t,” he said, chuckling as he threw a tissue in a wastebasket across the room and stood up from the bed.

Kiara jumped up on her feet, pulling the little black dress she had worn last night up off the hardwood floor. She was blushing scarlet red. It wasn’t made any better by the fact that she could vaguely remember being on her hands and knees on that very same floor just a few hours ago. She pulled on her strapless bra and slithered into the dress, cursing her choice of attire. It was a walk of shame dress if there ever was any.

“Can you tell me where we are? I need a cab really quick.”

The hint of desperation in her voice wiped the smirk off his face, and her heart twitched slightly as she saw the hint of disappointment that clouded his expression.

“That’s okay. I’ll call you one.”

“Thank you,” she sighed with relief, skulking out of the bedroom to find her pumps and hopefully her panties.

She couldn’t find them anywhere, but she might not have been looking hard enough, as the view in the living room knocked the breath right out of her lungs. It was spectacular. She could hardly believe that this good of a view of the city was possible at all, let alone from the apartment that she had accidentally landed herself in last night.

It seemed like the entirety of New York sprawled out in front of her, reaching as far as the eye could see and bustling with the Friday morning traffic she had planned so carefully to avoid by cleverly taking obscure routes that would get her right to her meeting. That obviously wasn’t going to happen.

“Like the view?” a rumbling question sounded behind her, immediately sending her buzzing with need again.

That man. Damn him all the way to hell. Kiara tossed her hair over her shoulder and whipped around, perfectly ready to storm out and shrug off the pleasant conversation in its entirety. But it was
so
hard to do when he stood in the middle of the room, wearing a wolfish grin and dressed only in a pair of boxers that were begging to be peeled off of him.

It was the first time she’d really got a good look at him in daylight, and he might just have looked better than the cityscape. Tall, broad-shouldered and at the peak of fitness – he looked like he should have been in one of those ridiculous spreads in
Men’s Fitness
with photoshopped abs and biceps that looked like they could lift the world. But he wasn’t photoshopped. Oh no. She knew, she’d licked, kissed or groped every square inch of his body over the last eight hours.

“Yes,” she finally muttered, the heat of her blush threatening to make her combust and burn with the force of a hundred angry suns.

“Good. You’re welcome back any time, sugar. Find what you were looking for?”

Kiara shook her head dumbly, making her feet move again as she spotted her spiky pumps across the room. She had to brush past really close to him, her nostrils filling with his blatantly masculine scent and that morning warmth that called to crawl back under the covers with him. She plucked up her pumps and put them on. Kiara gave a heavy breath and found herself clutching her little purse with deathly force, painfully aware that she still had no idea where her panties were.

“I need to go now.”

“I got that. Your cab should be out front.”

“Okay! Thank you…” his name still evading her memory.

He smirked, padding across the floor towards her. Kiara froze on the spot as he pulled her against him and spread a lingering, intense kiss on her lips that had her immediately wet again. Her fingers brushed across his chest and abs, his pale skin a stark contrast against hers. Only her brain wanted to go, all of her body wanted to stay rooted in spot. Thankfully, it was he who broke the kiss, pulling away.

“Damien.”

“Right. Kiara.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

She cracked a smile, but as soon as he smiled back, she tore herself away from him. A second more and she would never go. When the door slammed shut behind her, she could hear him yelling after her with a chuckle in his voice.

“Come back any time!”

Of course something like that would only happen to her when she was a 5-hour flight away from being able to take him up on the offer.

CHAPTER TWO

Kiara

The cab ride downtown was blessedly short and uneventful. Kiara could hardly believe she could manage another complication anyway.

“Gwyneth’s going to kill me. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she murmured under her breath.

“What was that, missy?” the cabby asked, quirking a brow at her in the rearview mirror.

“Nothing! Sorry,” she uttered sheepishly, fixing her make-up in the small portable mirror as best as she could with the minimal supplies available to her.

She’d forgotten that she wasn’t alone – her capacity to process fully concentrated on trying to brainstorm a way to look presentable after a night of heavy drinking and fucking. Last thing she needed was a crabby cabby leaving her stranded lord knows where. She only had a tube of lip-gloss and mascara in her purse, but they would have to do.

A wet wipe cleaned off most of the blotchy make-up from the night before, and after she set her long luxurious hair in a tight bun, she looked almost presentable. If one was to ignore the shorter than sin dress, the fact that she was wearing no underwear and that her heels would have put most of the hookers in Lower East Side to shame.

Kiara rushed into the impressive office building that housed Divinad Enterprises. She held her breath as the elevator took her up to one of the higher floors and fumbled through her introduction with a secretary, trying to explain why a woman who looked like she currently did should be admitted into the offices of one of the most prominent luxury brands in the world. This was
not
a good time to have a hangover. Still, at the back of her mind, a little voice kept telling her that it had been worth it.  What a man.

She plastered a smile on her lip that was a lot more confident than she actually was as the secretary ushered her into the meeting room, where Gwyneth was already waiting. Kiara hadn’t even had a moment to admire the lavish interior decorations of Divinad, one of her favorite brands ever. She quickly forgot all about being awestruck and focused on looking befittingly ashamed instead.

Kiara – looking like the most delectable trollop as she rolled into the room – visibly cringed as her prim and proper boss went ashen at the sight of her. Kiara sighed a small breath of relief as she had made it just barely in time, and none of the bigwigs they were supposed to present to were there yet. As soon as the door closed behind the secretary, Gwyneth was on her feet and wagging her finger in front of Kiara’s face.

“Oh my GOD! Where the hell were you! I’ve been calling and texting you all night! I thought you’d fallen off the Brooklyn Bridge or something.”

Then, she took a step back, and Kiara mustered the most apologetic of smiles as Gwyneth took a good long look at her. Kiara’s sparkly black party dress was perfect for charming the pants off of handsome white collar twerps at the bar, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of attire one wore to the biggest presentation of her life at Divinad, the premiere luxury and jewelry brand in the country!

“I hope you’re aware that you look like you’re going to a nightclub. Or more like you just got thrown out of one.”

“I’m sorry, Gwyneth! I had a bit too much to drink and… um… well, you know how it goes.”

Kiara slumped down on a chair, fighting the urge to rest her head on her hands and just take a real quick little nap. No one would notice, right?

“No, no I don’t know how it goes. Are you ready to give the presentation? Can you even think straight? And hell, what is that smell? Were you drinking tequila last night?”

“Tequila and everything else. Yes, I can give the presentation, as long as you have the slides. And I didn’t have time to go and change, I barely just made it to the meeting to begin with.”

Her thighs rubbing together, spreading the wetness that had gathered when she had had to make her less than courteous exit from Damien’s place was a cruel reminder of how much life loved playing tricks on her. For once she’d met a man who was handsome, smart, hot and not a creep (from the snippets of conversation she could recall), and instead of getting to enjoy that, she’d have to half-ass both her love life and her career in one fell swoop. Delightful.

“Here, wear this,” Gwyneth said, her tone dripping with annoyance as she slipped out of her expensive black blazer and handed it to Kiara.

She gave the garment a long evaluating look, but hearing footsteps in the corridor, snatched it and quickly slipped it on. There was no way it was going to button in the front – Gwyneth was a slim blonde and she a much curvier woman – but it would have to do. At least she could pretend that she was going for some kind of a street style instead of just looking like she was halfway through a walk of shame. Which wasn’t entirely untrue.

“They’re coming,” Gwyneth whispered, and Kiara conjured the bright, friendly smile back on her lips that she’d perfected over the years of working in advertising.

A certain level of self-control and the ability to bullshit herself through anything was a necessity with the job. And she was going to need every ounce of those skills after seeing who walked through the doors.

The collection of high-brand clothes and Italian leather shoes could have taken any burgeoning fashionista’s breath away, but Kiara was left gasping for air because of something else entirely. Those wicked blue eyes that she’d fallen into so readily last night were now staring at her from across the wide mahogany meeting room table, giving her a wink and threatening to make her knees buckle underneath her like so much rubble.

What the hell is he doing here!?
Kiara thought desperately.

She fought to keep the rigid smile on her lips as she was introduced to the seemingly endless collection of company execs, mostly in their late thirties or early forties and all looking like a spread in a lifestyle magazine.

A gorgeous young brunette by the name of Eliza Whitcomb-Divinad made Kiara’s sensors buzz, warning her that the slim, model-looking woman was trouble, but other than that, Kiara only had enough mental capacity to focus on the giant mess she had got herself into.

The secretary who had shown Kiara in made the introduction she had been fearing the most.

“Kiara Lockett, may I present Damien Thatch, the CEO of Divinad Enterprises.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kiara managed to croak before Damien’s warm palm engulfed her hand in his and flashes of their time spent together rushed through her mind, making her core throb with painful need.

The
Damien Thatch? One of the most influential men in the country and by far the most notorious billionaire bachelor in the world? How had Kiara Lockett, a simple marketing specialist, managed to snag a night with the hottest man ever – according to
People
magazine – without even recognizing him? There was no way she was going to stop blushing for even a second during the presentation.

It was going to be impossible to focus with him in the room, his eyes on her and those lips curved in a delicious smile that asked to be kissed. Kiara trembled as Damien inclined his head a little, the picture of calm and control.

“Pleased to meet you, Kiara,” he said, his tone casual and as if nothing had happened between them.

As if she hadn’t let him do just about every unspeakable thing to her last night while screaming for more.