A Baby for My Billionaire Stepbrother

Title Page

Copyright Page

About This Book

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

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Further Reading: We Put the Baby in Sitter

About the Author

"G
o take the bus, freshman."

With one cruel phrase, James had shown me exactly what kind of person he was. Refusing to give me a ride home had shown the catty girls at my high school that I was fair game. It didn't stop there. For Christmas, he gave me nothing more than an IOU. I had to listen to him making girls from our high school moan through our shared wall. Even though our parents were now married, I knew I'd never think of him as a brother.

I was right, but in the worst way. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop fantasizing about acts that society would consider forbidden.

Four years later, when I came home for Christmas, James was there as well. Only he wasn't just a popular high school kid anymore. He was the billionaire CEO of his own company. And whatever feelings I had for him resurfaced immediately when I accidentally walked in on him in the shower. He relished the opportunity to tease me just as he had when we lived together, and I fell for it every time.

Only, when I left the house to do something I might regret, he saved me. It was only then that I found out that he had not only been protecting me, but he had wanted me just as fiercely all along. And, even though that IOU from all those Christmases before said that he owed me a gift, I wanted to use it to give him a gift that would last a lifetime.

A baby.

***

"W
hat happened in the car..."

"That was a stupid mistake," he said, his voice darkening. "And I’m sorry for it. I crossed a line with you I had no right to cross."

I shook my head. "That’s not what I meant."

"There’s nothing else to say about it."

"Of course there is. I know you’re my..."

"Your brother," he finished for me, his mouth forming a cruel hard line.

"...
step
brother."

"Does that really make any difference?"

"It does for me," I said, standing up a little straighter. I was getting angry, and it was giving me a little courage to stand on. "It’s not like it's incest."

James seemed to flinch at the word, then laughed. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"Stop it," I snapped. I pushed his chest. It was hard under the oxford shirt he was wearing. He didn’t move. "Don’t try to make this a joke."

"I’m not," he said, seriously. "But you’ve gone off the deep end, Allie."

"So what was it, then?"

"What was what?"

"The kiss, you jerk," I said, swatting his chest.

"I already told you what it was. It was a mistake."

"It didn’t mean anything? You don’t feel anything?"

"Jesus, Allie. Are you listening to yourself? And besides, aren’t I the guy who ruined your life?"

"Just tell me, then. If you tell me that it was really just some mistake and you don’t feel anything for me, I’ll leave right now."

I swallowed, cursing myself for being so direct. I was practically forcing him to reject me.

Something inside of him broke. He crossed the distance between us in a heartbeat. Before I could say anything further he grabbed me, one hand turning my face up to his and the other seizing my hip. He pulled my trembling body tight against his.

But before he could swoop down and kiss me, I stood up on the balls of my feet, pressing my breasts against his chest and running my arms around him as I reached for his lips with mine.

It was too violent to call it a kiss.

***

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I
'm in bed with Danny,
I thought to myself.

Logically, I knew that it was Danny, my boyfriend. And as I looked at the sweaty body thrusting above me, it was clearly Danny.

I wanted it to be Danny.

However, as the pleasure increased and I could feel him getting closer to orgasm, I could feel him swelling. I closed my eyes, allowing the pleasure to wash over me. Danny's cock was big, and it filled me nicely. So big, that...

Suddenly, my thoughts turned elsewhere. There was someone else fucking me now. Someone I had always dreamed of, but who I could never be with.

Him.

My eyes shot back open.
No
, I thought. I wanted to stay here, with Danny. Danny smiled as we locked eyes, and I smiled back at him. He picked up his pace, plowing into me, spreading me open. I began to moan, just as I heard girls moan through that thin wall I had shared with
him...

I could feel Danny swell even bigger and tense up, his jaw opening in a wordless cry. His “O” face looked funny, but I knew it was sincere, and it turned me on that I was able to do that to him. He pounded deeper and deeper, until he froze. I waited for the splash of his seed to empty into my body, completing my experience, but of course it didn't come.

As soon as he was done, he pulled out of my body. He pulled the condom off quickly, tying it in a knot and throwing it
toward
the trash can, but not making it in. I knew that he wouldn't even try to pick it up later. That would be something nice, and he never did anything nice.

The condom was by his insistence, of course. He knew I wasn't on the pill and refused to do any kind of withdrawal method with me. I was actually kind of glad. Danny was alright, but he was hardly father material. Still, I thought, as I looked down at my tummy, I would love to see it filled with a baby someday. Maybe someday soon. Maybe even with Danny, if he would grow up a little bit.

Danny laid his head on the pillow next to me. “That felt good.”

I smiled. I knew it felt good for him, but of course I hadn't come yet. He never finished me off, so I knew I'd have to break out my vibrator later. Again, I'd have to fend off thoughts of
him.

“I'm glad. It felt good for me, too,” I lied. It was important to his ego for me to say that.

He grunted with pleasure, then immediately got up. He started to pull his pants on with no underwear. “So, I'll see you tomorrow, then?”

I paused. “Of course I'll see you tomorrow. You promised you'd drive me home, remember?”

He stopped. “Oh, right. Look, I won't be able to take you home. I have a lot of things to catch up on.”

I couldn't believe this. “Things” was probably just playing video games or jerking off to Internet pornography. “What? But I have to get home for Christmas!”

He shrugged his shoulders and didn't say another word. He just kept putting his clothes on.

I stood up “Hey, I'm talking to you, asshole,” I said, my breasts jiggling all over the place.

“I don't know what to tell you, but I can't take you,” he said, refusing to look me in the eye.

“You promised! How am I supposed to get home?”

“That's your problem,” he said. He put on his shoes and walked toward the door.

“Stop!” I cried. He kept going. “If you don't drive me home tomorrow, we are done.”

“Then I guess we're done,” he said, opening the door and slamming it behind him.

I stood there, naked in my dorm room, my mouth hanging open. That asshole was supposed to be my ride home. It was supposed to be a nice, four-hour drive, and I probably would have given him head or something to make up for it.

He
wouldn't have left me high-and-dry like this
, I thought. I shook my head.
Stop thinking about him, you idiot. You'll never be with him.

Still, I was excited for this coming Christmas. Not only because I'd see my parents. Not just because I'd get to see my best friend from high school, Tessa. But because I'd get to see
him.

My billionaire stepbrother.

Y
ou know what they say
, I thought.
You can never go home again.

It was true. After four months away at college, somehow coming home didn’t feel quite like coming home anymore.

It looked like Dad had spent another fortune on decorations. The day was overcast so all his Christmas lights were glowing brightly against the gray sky. Even the plastic reindeer that had disappeared when I was a little girl had returned—I couldn’t believe he would have bought another set, but the old ones were destroyed by neighborhood kids so he must have. In every window there was a fake candle glowing in a green wreath. It all looked picturesque with the swirling snow flurries kicking around in the air, dusting the house and yard.

As I grabbed my bags out of the trunk, I heard my Dad and Nancy calling to me from the porch. "Who’s that New York girl and what has she done with my daughter?"

I closed the trunk, grinning at my dad’s corny and unoriginal joke. He came down from the porch, looking me over. "Seriously, where is my daughter?" He grabbed me and gave me a big hug and a wet kiss on the cheek.

"She was booked. They sent me in her place," I said, hugging him back. He took my bag off my shoulder and we climbed up the steps to where my stepmom, Nancy, stopped me for a hug. I kissed her on the cheek, too.

"Allie, wow! You really do look incredible. I just love that coat on you, and your hair! It’s gorgeous." I tried not to blush, feeling a little ashamed because this was the reaction I was hoping to get. At college, my roommate Nicole taught me about makeup, clothes and shoes and with her help—and a little help from the extension of my dad’s credit card—I had managed to transform myself from the mousy girl that drove off to college in the fall into a New York woman.

My transformation in New York was more than clothes and makeup, though. It was like I got to start my life all over. For the first time ever, I got to be the person I thought I was, rather than the person everyone else wanted me to be. It was intoxicating, meeting so many new people on campus and in the city, seeing how they looked at me so much differently than the people back home. I finally found some confidence. With my new clothes and style, some of the girls from out of state even thought I was a native New Yorker, which was pretty much the ultimate compliment.

But as I walked into the house, things immediately began to feel more familiar and I could sense the old me everywhere. She was floating around like a ghost, waiting for a chance to take my life over again.

But I wouldn’t let her.

I felt Nancy’s warm hand on my arm. "I’m so happy for you, Allie. I knew New York was going to be just what you needed."

I wasn’t really sure how to answer her. I couldn’t help but feel a little defensive, as the comment implied that I was in need of fixing. But I reigned myself in. That was the old me, the grumpy, angry, misfit. "Yeah, well, I’m happy for me too, Nancy."

"Do you want to eat something? I can make you a sandwich," my dad said. "Or I can heat up some chili. Nancy made some last night and it’s delicious."

I shook my head. "No, thanks. I think I just want to unpack and maybe take a nap. It was a long drive."

Nancy and my dad exchanged a knowing and obvious look between each other.

What was that about?

My dad shouldered my bags again and started up the stairs. "Here, I’ll take them upstairs for you."

Once we were inside my room, he set the bags down and gave me a serious look. "I know you’re not crazy about all this Christmas stuff and the family dinners, but Nancy has organized a small cocktail party tonight for James. I really need you to try and be nice to him. He has done some remarkable things this year and earned our congratulations, even
you
have to see that."

The ghost of the old me was raging around the room. I needed to be nice to
him
? It sometimes amazed me how much parents could miss when it came to the relationships between their own children. But I ignored the bitching ghost. That wasn't me anymore. She was in the past.

"Of course, Daddy," I promised.

He gave me a suspicious look. "It’s just for tonight. We’re going to keep it simple for the rest of the holiday."

"Daddy, it’s fine. If I built a business worth a billion dollars, I’d want you to throw me a party, too."