The Billionaire's Unexpected Baby (Winning The Billionaire) Read online

  He managed to tear his eyes away from his parents singing “I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls long enough to glance at his friends. Yep. Good to know it wasn’t just him. Harrison sat in some sort of horrified stupor, his slow blinking the only sign that he was still breathing. Chris had a weird half grin on his face, like he couldn’t decide if he was amused or ready to bolt out the door. Cole…

  “Put that down!” Brooks said, swatting at the phone in Cole’s hand.

  Cole laughed and leaned away so he could keep filming. “There is no way in hell I’m putting this phone down.” Cole fended him off with one hand and kept recording his parents with the other.

  “You have to sleep some time,” Brooks said.

  “Oh, come on. It’s kind of sweet,” Cole said.

  “Really, really not the word that comes to mind,” Brooks said, abandoning his phone-snatching attempts in the interest of downing another drink to dull the memory currently being branded into his brain.

  “I’m serious,” Cole said. He pointed up at the stage. “There are two people who have been married over thirty years, having a blast and hanging all over each other. I know people who have been together for thirty days who aren’t as into each other as your parents are. Relationship goals, man.”

  Brooks risked another glance at the stage where the song had thankfully just ended. And his father celebrated by giving his mother a kiss that had the crowd roaring their approval. On the one hand, the little boy in him wanted to vomit in the corner. And would do so shortly, for more than one reason. But on the other…okay, he could see Cole’s point.

  His parents made their way back to the table and his dad grabbed his beer, taking a large swig, while his mom grabbed her purse.

  “I’m going to freshen up.”

  His dad leaned over and smacked her right on the ass. “Hurry back.”

  Brooks took the beer out of his hand. “I’m cutting you off.”

  His dad just grinned at him. “Sorry, your mother’s still got it.”

  “Oh my God. Dad.”

  His dad shrugged. “Son, my dearest hope for you is that you’ll be sitting at some table in some bar thirty years from now impatiently waiting for your wife to come back from the restroom so you can drag her back to your hotel room.”

  “Dad!” He wondered if his therapist’s number was in his wallet. He really needed to start carrying that card around.

  “Look,” his dad said, his face returning to its usual serious expression. “I don’t know everything that’s going on with you, and frankly I don’t need to. You’re a grown man, you can make your own decisions. I just hope that the girl you’re marrying tomorrow is one you can see yourself still drooling over a few decades from now. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, pushing back from the table as his wife rejoined them, “we’ll see you boys at the courthouse tomorrow.”

  Brooks’s mom leaned down to kiss his forehead and then giggled as his dad grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the door.

  Cole raised a drink in their direction. “Like I said, relationship goals.”

  Brooks watched them go, his mind warring between wanting to be bleached until all remaining memories of the last hour had been scrubbed from it permanently, and wanting to burn every second into his synapses so he could have some sort of perfect marriage blueprint to follow.

  Not that he and Leah were going to have a real marriage. But maybe, for someday. If he ever found anyone else he wanted to marry. Though he couldn’t see that happening. He wasn’t a marriage kind of guy—said the guy sitting at his bachelor party. But he wasn’t a real marriage kind of guy.

  Then again, maybe he just hadn’t found the kind of girl who made him want to be one.

  The sudden image of Leah smiling at him with a come-hither look had him knocking back another drink.

  What was he getting himself into?

  Chapter Eight

  Brooks stood with Leah in front of a guy in a courthouse and repeated vows he had no intention of keeping.

  Well, that wasn’t totally true. He’d keep them for a while. Maybe it was more accurate to say he had no intention of keeping them permanently. Cole handed him a ring and he slipped it on Leah’s finger. Her hand trembled slightly in his, and a wave of tenderness washed over him. Okay, if he was ever tempted to do the whole marriage thing for real, Leah would be the one to tempt him. He gave her hand a squeeze and she rewarded him with a shy smile as she slipped on his own ring.

  He still wanted to find a way to get her a big, fat rock. Once the marriage was dissolved she could sell it. Stash away a nice little nest egg. An easy and unobtrusive way of getting some money into her pocket without handing her a wad of cash since she kept flat-out refusing that, too. What ex-wife didn’t want alimony? He needed to get the stubborn woman to stop refusing everything.

  Not that it should matter. The wedding was fake. The relationship was fake. But Leah in that white dress…very, very real. In fact, the more they continued, the more real everything felt.

  He’d been half convinced he should call it off until the moment Leah had walked into the room. There were other ways to deal with her problems. If she was too stubborn to take his money outright—and judging by the way she insisted they sign the ironclad prenup Cole had drawn up stating she got nothing no matter why the marriage ended, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to convince her to take it any other way—then he could always find her a job. Set up anonymous donations or scholarships for the kid. Enlist Kiersten’s help in making the woman see reason.

  But then she’d walked into that courthouse room, in a white lacy dress that floated around her knees, her hair pulled back with a simple silver headband that left her brunette waves free to fall to her shoulders, and he’d shut down any other thought in his head but making her his. It wouldn’t be forever. It shouldn’t be forever, for her sake. But for a little while he could pretend that a woman like her would marry a man like him under circumstances other than extreme duress with her fingers crossed behind her back.

  “You may kiss your bride.”

  All other thoughts evaporated. This was the part of the ceremony he’d been looking forward to. She didn’t seem nearly as eager, glancing around at their friends who’d been able to make it to a last-minute wedding with a bright blush staining her cheeks. He took her chin in his hands and drew her gaze back to him. She smiled and his heart exploded. He barely knew this woman and he’d willingly lay the world at her feet for one more of those smiles.

  He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips, reining in the urge to do much, much more. It would embarrass her and the day was hard enough for her as it was. But later, when they were alone…they still needed to renegotiate some terms. It was their wedding night after all.

  “Congratulations,” the officiant said. He handed them some paperwork and looked behind them for the next couple who waited their turn.

  Kiersten gave him a quick hug, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “I realize this isn’t supposed to be real, but there is obviously something going on between you two. If you hurt her…”

  “That is the last thing I intend to do,” he said.

  “Good.” She dropped back down and smiled up at him. “Well then…” She wrapped her arm around Leah and led her out while Cole clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You just won me a ton of money,” he said with a grin.

  Brooks raised an eyebrow. “And how did I do that? More importantly, where’s my share?”

  Cole chuckled and nodded back at Harrison and Chris who were pulling up the rear. “Harrison bet that you’d never go through with it.”

  “You bet I would?” Brooks snorted. “I’d have bet with Harrison.”

  “Naw. I have a feeling about you two.” He nodded up at Leah who was climbing into the limo behind Kiersten.

  “Don’t go getting all attached,” Brooks said. “This is only temporary.”

  Cole nodded, a smug smile of monogamous wisdom plastered to his face
that had Brooks itching to knock it off.

  “Oh, before I forget,” Cole said. “Here. The boys and I got you a wedding present.”

  He slapped a string of condoms into Brooks’s hand. “Probably not necessary, I know, but hey, we have high hopes for you, buddy.”

  “You guys are dicks.”

  “Yeah, that’s why you love us.”

  “Nothing is happening tonight. The last thing we want is to complicate an already complicated relationship.”

  “Why? You might enjoy being married.”

  “Not everyone is cut out for marriage, you know.”

  Cole laughed outright at that. “Says the guy who just got married.”

  “That’s…it’s not…shut up.”

  He jumped into the car before Cole could say anything else.

  The dinner their friends graciously treated them to seemed never-ending. He appreciated the gesture, but the whole situation was weird. Celebrating something that had literally been set up to be broken. But hey, free dinner. No complaints on his part. His eyes, though, strayed often to Leah. Better yet, her eyes strayed often to him.

  By the end of dinner, he felt like they’d been playing footsy all night, only it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the real thing because they’d never actually touched each other. And he wanted to touch her more than he’d ever wanted anything. That was saying something. He was a greedy guy. There were a lot of things he wanted.

  And he’d give them all for one night with her.

  Chapter Nine

  Leah stood beneath the hot water of the hotel shower, letting the jets massage the ache from her scalp.

  How a somewhat impromptu fake-ish wedding had turned into such an affair, she had no idea. Well, that wasn’t totally true. She was now married to a billionaire. Who was friends with billionaires. Who liked to party like billionaires. Whereas she would have done a quick courthouse wedding and a nice dinner at a Sizzler somewhere, they’d paid a fortune for the nicest restaurant in town, dropped enough on dinner to pay her rent for several months, and still felt like they’d gotten off cheap.

  She wasn’t complaining. The night had been memorably beautiful, and fake or not, she appreciated having a nice wedding. Hell, it might be the only one she ever got. It was just…different, that’s all. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to it.

  Her wedding ring brushed across her bare skin and she looked down at it. Another thing she’d never get used to. She was married now. A “Mrs.” She could have a whole new name if she wanted it. In fact, her employers would expect a name change. The thought unsettled her, like she was suddenly supposed to be this whole other person because she’d said “I do” to some guy she barely knew.

  She almost had to laugh at herself. She was having a baby with a man she barely knew and was newly married to a different man she barely knew. Her mother would be so proud. She completely blocked out any thought of how that conversation was going to go down. She’d deal with it later. Right now, she had to walk out into that massive hotel suite and say good night to her husband.

  Not how she pictured her wedding night going, especially when she was married to a man like Brooks.

  She’d known extremely good-looking men before. Not just handsome men, but Chris Hemsworth, Jason Momoa, over-the-top hot men. And many of them had a bit of a cocky swagger about them that let the world know they knew exactly how hot they were. But Brooks didn’t have that. Oh, he joked about how hot he was. The man was a master flirt, but something about the way he said it made her think that deep down inside, he didn’t believe a word of what came out of his mouth.

  The water flowed over her in hot rivulets, sending tingling sparks through her over-sensitized body. She seemed to experience everything at a heightened level lately. Smells, sounds…touch. She let her hands trail down her body, sucking in a breath at the sensations that rippled down.

  A knock at the door startled her and she turned off the water, embarrassed, though he had no idea what she’d been doing, and probably would have loved every second if he had.

  “Everything okay in there?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, stepping out and grabbing a towel. She bent over to flip her hair upside down and towel-dried it for a second before wrapping it up. “Give me a moment.”

  The door opened and she squealed, whipping her hair towel down to cover her body, though the tiny towel didn’t cover much.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you said come in.”

  “I said give me a moment.”

  “Sorry,” he said again. “I’ll just wait out there.”

  He jerked his thumb toward the door, but didn’t make any move to follow it. He stood still, his gaze roaming over her body, sucking in a deep breath as he took in every inch of her.

  She should scream, push him away, give him a good chewing out for standing there staring at her.

  Instead, she returned the favor. She couldn’t help it. He only wore plaid pajama bottoms, slung low on his hips. His broad chest and shoulders were on spectacular display and he sported a tribal band tattoo around one impressive bicep that both surprised her and made her clench her fists in her towel to keep from reaching out and tracing it with her fingertips.

  His height showed in his long torso and legs. She’d never wanted a pair of pants to fall off so badly in her life. Even his bare feet were unexpectedly erotic.

  “I think I should go,” he said, his voice hoarse. He turned half away but didn’t take his eyes off her.

  Twisting like that gave her an excellent view of his rock-hard ass, though, and she bit her lip. Holy hell.

  Screw it. Seriously. It was a bad idea that she was pretty sure she’d regret in the morning. But she wanted him. Craved him. Wanted to feel his touch so badly she was seconds from sobbing from her need and desire. And this man, this gloriously incredible man, was theoretically, legally, hers.

  “Brooks,” she said, her own voice sounding hoarse with need to her own ears. “Don’t go.”

  He sucked in a breath, his hungry eyes moving over her again. “One of us needs to walk away right now. If I stay—”

  “Brooks,” she said again.

  Then she dropped her towel.

  …

  Brooks’s brain short-circuited. Every precaution, every warning, every rational thought completely and totally evaporated on a wave of lust so strong he nearly dropped to his knees at the feet of the goddess who stood before him.

  He walked slowly toward her, giving her time to change her mind. When he stood within a breath’s distance of her, he paused again, closed his eyes and breathed her in.

  Her hands came up and rested on his waist and that was it. His control disintegrated.

  He cupped her face, turning her lips up to meet his. She clung to him as he plundered her mouth. All that creamy, smooth skin pressed against him and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to bring her even closer. Finally, he picked her up, groaning against her lips when her legs wrapped around his waist. Shit, she wasn’t even trying to do anything but hang on and he was seconds from blowing.

  He carried her out of the bathroom and straight to the bed. He laid her down and got rid of his pants. She sucked in a breath at the sight of him and he gave her a moment to look. Only fair since he’d certainly had a chance to admire every line and curve of her gorgeous body.

  The sheer beauty of her stunned him. Humbled him. And she was his. His wife.

  The knowledge of that did something to him, gave him a sense of both possession and pride that he’d never felt before.

  He belonged. He was a part of a we. An us.

  The intimacy in that tiny word rocked him.

  It didn’t matter if it was temporary. For that moment, they belonged to each other, and each other only.

  When he finally climbed up next to her, she reached for him eagerly. Fingers threading through his hair, guiding him to her lips. He kissed her with growing urgency, and she was right there with him, kissing him like he’d never been kiss
ed before. With total abandon, every stroke of her tongue branding him more deeply as hers.

  His body begged for more, ached for more. He couldn’t get enough.

  His hands trailed over her body, closing over a breast, hesitating when she flinched away from his touch.

  “Sorry,” she said. “They’re a bit sore.”

  “No apologies. Just tell me if something doesn’t feel good, and tell me what does.”

  He ran his fingertips lightly over her breast, barely skimming over the skin, watching her carefully for her reaction. Her mouth dropped open and he smiled. He longed to suck her tight nipples into his mouth. Instead, he lightly flicked the tip of his tongue over their peaks and she nearly came off the bed.

  After that, it became a game to see how lightly he could caress, kiss, and lick her. Her sensitive skin responded to his lightest touch and he had her coming apart in his arms within minutes.

  His fingers brushed down her side, down her hips. Then lightly tickled her center. Her hips came off the bed, wanting, begging.

  He chuckled, then dipped down to recapture her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips at the same moment that he sank a gentle finger inside her. She gasped, and then the game was over.

  She arched against him, straining to drive him deeper, and he was a goner.

  He quickly rolled over and grabbed his pants from the floor where he’d dropped them earlier, silently thanking his asshole friends for their perverse sense of humor. He tore a condom from the rest of the pack and had it rolled on before he’d stopped to consider the fact that she was already pregnant, though the condom might still make her more comfortable seeing as they’d pretty much just met.

  His hand rested on her belly, another thought invading.

  “Is it okay if we…?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, reaching for him.

  “It won’t hurt you or…” His fingers stroked across her gently rounded belly and she bit her lip, sucking in a sharp breath.