His Billion Dollar Secret Baby by Frankie Love

Author:Frankie Love [Love, Frankie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-07-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Maybe it's unfair to unburden myself with the woman who barely knows me. But she stands in this office listening to me, as I cry in front of her, she tells me she will be a shoulder for me to cry on.

She doesn't ask me for a single thing—her and me... in a different life... a life where I wasn't going to die... we could've been something beautiful.

We could have made a life we would have been proud of.

Hell, she's the reason my life is something I'm proud of at all.

I never considered philanthropy before I met her. I was nothing but a greedy mother fucker. But all that changed when she walked into my life. And she doesn't even understand it.

She doesn't seem to realize the effect she has on me.

Her mouth is so close to mine, her lips so tender and pink. Her eyes rimmed in red and I imagine her crying over me, over the news.

I hate that my life has caused her any pain, and the fact that she's giving herself to me, again, is more than I fucking deserve.

When she kisses me, and wraps her arms around me; when she leans into me, it's with an ache I understand. She needs this and I need her.

My arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to me. My cock is already hard as I remember her naked flesh against my chest at the pool.

All I want is to see her body again. Hell, I haven't slept with a single person since we were together. That amounts to fifteen months of jacking off all by my lonesome to her memory.

To images of her... her polka dot swimsuit, her perfect tits bobbing in the water, her creamy skin that had never been touched.

Now she's here.

I push everything off my desk. Papers scatter and books fall and, hell, I think a laptop crashes to the floor.

She looks at me wide-eyed, surprised. She doesn't understand my hunger.

But then she's ripping off my shirt, unbuckling my belt, and I realize I didn't give her enough credit.

She understands my hunger because she’s fucking famished. Her hands run up and down my chest, whimpering as she touches my body. And I pull down the zipper on the back of her dress, help her to shrug out of the sleeves, letting the dress fall to the floor.

She's wearing a simple cotton bra and a basic pair of panties that tell me she hasn't been fucking strangers.

No, she wouldn't be wearing these underclothes if she had frequent hookups. And I like that she isn't reckless every day.

Hell, maybe she was only reckless one day.

She flips off the overhead light, telling me the fluorescent ones are too much.

I don't care if we're in the dark or if we're in the sunshine—all I want is her. All I need is her. And somehow, right now, I have her.

I lay her back against the desk and pull off her panties, tossing them aside and spreading her knees apart.

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