Fated (BBW BWWM Billionaire Romance): A Second Chance Novella (Tied to Him: My BFF Book 1) (4 page)

Or maybe I’m still so heady from our carefree drive that I’m still not thinking straight.

Once the gates open and he drives up a winding pathway to a set of garages, fear has grown a tiny bit more than the happy excitement of checking out a billionaire’s home.

Once the car is parked, he comes over to my side and helps me out, not letting go of my hand as we head inside.

I barely have time to take in all of the embellishments of his massive grounds before the gorgeousness of the home’s interior zaps away my words.

I must look a sight with my mouth hanging open as my eyes take in the sheer opulence before me—from the sparkling chandelier to the intricate designs on the curving staircase to the paintings on the walls.

I’m still trying to find my words when I feel his hand pull me toward the stairs then guide me up them.

“No elevator?” I say sarcastically, happy I didn’t end up saying something stupid like, “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Can I stay?”

He gives me a small smile, but his face is still tightened with purpose, and it finally dawns on me what his intended destination is.

My heart beats rapidly as we get to the second floor then walk down a hall.

I miss what might have been decorating those walls or the ceiling because I’m in my head again, struck by what’s about happen.

It seems inevitable—the fire between us has to be addressed, and I still don’t know what any of this means.

When we reach what I assume is the master bedroom, my mouth drops open again.

The square footage surpasses my whole apartment by far, and the size of the bed is really quite unnecessary.

The room is beautifully decorated in dark purple and pearlescent tones, and all other thoughts evaporate once Brent picks me up and deposits me on the bed.

His mouth is soon on mine, and he kisses me until all I can do is start helping him and myself out of our clothes.

We are both naked in record time, and his mouth starts blazing trails over my skin, sending tingles from my neck to my raging pussy, making me arch at the soft heat from his mouth tasting my chest and sucking my breasts, then tickling my stomach.

I am lost in helpless throes once he reaches my middle, and my inner thighs squeeze his head as his tongue laps at my hungry center.

I want to give him the same pleasure he’s giving me, but my body screams for more and soon, my mouth is begging too.

“Please, Brent,” I say when he brings me to the brink of orgasm with his tongue and lips, skimming my needy folds in a relentless tease.

I’m about to hold his head in place and fuck his face till I come when I feel him raise himself, and my eyes snap open to see him position himself over me, lining up the head of his cock with my desperate wet pussy.

Somehow, I find the sense to say, “Condom!” and his face transforms to a silent curse before he quickly retrieves one and slaps it on.

He climbs over me again and then plunges into me quickly—as if to ward off any more delays.

His hard cock parting me almost feels like the first time, and the shock of his entry makes me cry out.

He starts thrusting his cock into me with hard, desperate movements, smashing our pelvises together as he plunges deep into me without mercy.

My lips ache with his rough claim, yet my pussy still wants more.

As I start to match his thrusts to try to take him in deeper, he suddenly pulls all the way out of me and flips me onto my stomach.

Then he lifts my ass in the air, getting me on all fours, and before plunging deep into my hot wet cunt again, he says, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

His large hands grab my ass cheeks as he rides me hard, balls slapping against my pussy lips as he pulls me to him with quick, hard thrusts.

His fingers make their way to my clit and he fondles my nub, working it with his thumb until I feel an orgasm start to build.

I can tell he’s not far from his own, and he works on bringing us there together, drilling into me with his cock while massaging my sensitive bud.

The combination of his thick, hard probing cock, his balls slapping against the folds of my pussy, and his finger working my needy clit makes me come so hard I fully expect the sound of my loud climax to shatter some of his expensive vases.

While the double orgasm is washing over me, I feel his pelvis slap against my ass with a final hard thrust, and he stays buried deep in me as his own orgasm takes over him.

I hear him cracking his toes.

I can feel our bodies pulsing against each other—my walls gripping his throbbing cock as it shoots cum.

“Shit,” I hear Brent say as he starts to pull out of my protesting pussy.

I don’t like his tone.

“You fucked it right off,” he says. “Hold still.”

What the hell is he talking about?

“Too tight,” he says, not clarifying a damned thing. “Somewhere between you squeezing the fuck out of my cock—no pun intended—we had a mishap.”

Suddenly I feel his fingers inside me and then feel him pull something out of me.

My head drops as I realize what it is: the condom.

“That doesn’t happen. Does it?” I say stupidly since obviously, it just happened.

Did I mention I’m not all that experienced? I can still count with fingers left over how many times I’ve done this.

“It has never happened to me,” he says. “Sometimes it happens to guys who wear condoms too big for their dicks, which I’ve never done.”

Who’s he telling? It’s a wonder they even came in his size.

I stay in place while he continues to ponder the situation.

“It’s fucking ripped,” he says almost wondrously.

Either way, we’re obviously not protected.

“Nina, I don’t want you to worry about anything—I’m totally clean,” he says.

“Me too,” I say quickly. Boy, if he only knew how much.

I wait for him to acknowledge the other risk, butt still in the air, but I just feel his hand start rubbing my ample cheeks.

I remember the dimples decorating them and start to flood with embarrassment.

Here I am, once again fully exposed to this man who could have any woman in the world he wants—scratch that, who has probably been privy to some of the best female bodies on the planet—with my lumps and rolls on display, having briefly forgotten how much I pale in comparison.

“Years,” Brent says, still apparently lost in his own world as he continues to fondle me. “My mind has been coming back to this delicious ass of yours for years. I’ve wanted to hold it, ride it, kiss it…” At that, he bends and kisses my ass cheek. “I have told you how beautiful you are, Nina, haven’t I? I wonder at how blind I was for so long. Thanks to your classmate, my eyes got a little bit opened…”

He stops.

Beautiful intimate moment meet can of worms.

Then again, this might be a good time to bring up the consequences of such a moment—the most opportune chance to say, “Oopsie, I could get pregnant. You know—like last time?”

But I can’t.

I can feel him looking at me, his gaze burning through the hair hanging over my face I try to hide behind.

“Are you on anything?” he says, his voice now appropriately heavy.

“No,” I say, the word emerging as a whisper.

I want to see what’s on his face then—I want to see his initial reaction to the implications; I want his honest gut response, but I can’t bear to look at him.

Emotion is threatening to overwhelm me.

At some point, while he was slamming into me, it was like he had dislodged a block, and the emotions I had been holding back came loose.

I can no longer ignore what I feel for him, what I’ve felt for him all along—the feeling that never went away, no matter how many walls I built over it.

I’m scared of the devastation I’ll feel if he disappears again, the fact that he might never feel the same about me.

Sure, he said he loves my body, but so what? He just wants to fuck it; I’m only an easy lay to him, helpless to his charms.

To my utter horror, I feel tears begin to well in my eyes.

I finally collapse on his bed and try to hide them, but I do a terrible job of it since I’m suddenly sobbing.

All I can think is, how could I have let this happen? Again?

Soon, I feel Brent’s body folding over mine as he wraps his arms around me.

He kisses my neck, my cheek while I cry into my hands.

I know he’ll ask what’s wrong and that I need to come up with an answer, but I can’t really think—only feel.

“If anything happens, I’ll take care of it,” he says. “Your decision which way to go, but know I’m with you all the way, Nina; I won’t leave you behind again.”

His words only make me cry more.

I
guess
I fell right to sleep, because at some point my eyes pop open, and I’m wondering where the hell I am until I register the soft covers over my body and the expanse of bed on both sides of me.

Ah yes, Brent’s mansion or castle or whatever the heck he calls this thing.

Then it dawns on me. The babysitter! I only booked her for three hours—I figured there was no way I’d be out longer than that.

Holy hell. How long have I been out?

I look around for my phone.

“Shit, shit, shit…” I mumble as I search desperately for my belongings.

My clothes had been flung far and wide, and I can’t find it fast enough.

I realize I’m probably too frantic and missing the obvious.

“Your phone’s blowing up,” I suddenly hear Brent say, his voice low and sexy and reaching me from the frame of his bedroom door.

I turn toward him and he indicates the side of the nightstand with a nod of his head and a glance.

I follow his eyes to the lit screen of my phone, a call currently coming in.

“I’m guessing it’s not your boyfriend since you’re here with me,” he says as I answer the call.

I ignore him.

“Sabrina, I’m so sorry, I’ll be there in thirty,” I say.

I’m not sure if it’s a lie or not since I don’t know how far away we are from my home. All I know is that I need to leave here now.

“Brent, I’ve got to go; you have to take me home right away.”

I start to gather my clothes and throw them on.

“Is there a fire?” he asks, frowning as he watches me.

“No, I just…something came up. I forgot something I was supposed to do.”

His frown deepens, and I realize I didn’t quite make sense.

But I don’t really owe him an explanation, do I?

I’m pulling on my top when I say, “I just really have to go. We’ll talk more soon. Please get ready to take me.”

He raises his eyebrows at my order but starts getting dressed.

I try to think up a better explanation as we head to his car.

I
don’t know
what bug got up Nina’s ass, but I’m about to find out.

She’s being dodgy, so I know it’s something important.

She doesn’t actually have a boyfriend she’s cheating on, is she?

Boy, it’s weird when the shoe’s on the other foot.

“What’s really going on, Nina?” I ask once we’re cruising along to her place.

My tone is more of a demand, and it feels like over five years ago when I didn’t think twice about pulling out of her what’s bothering her. Her problems never had to do with me, so it was easy to nudge her into confiding in me about anything.

It almost feels like we’re friends again, but the look she gives me worries me; her expression reflects fear and her eyes are wet.

I have no doubt her secret has something to do with me, but what the hell could it be? What’s worrying her so?

Is the guy she’s seeing violent? Is she afraid he’ll come after me? Or, god forbid, is she afraid of suffering physical consequences of being with me? She’s not dating some abuser, is she? I’ll tear him to pieces if he lays a hand on her.

“Nina, why are you so afraid? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Brent,” is all she says softly when we slide up to her place.

I wait for the rest of whatever she’s about to say, but her door suddenly flies open and a child darts out, quickly followed by an apologetic-looking girl in her late teens or so.

Nina jumps out of the car.

“Mommy!” the kid says happily as she wraps herself around Nina’s legs and it feels like everything stills inside me.

I hop out of the car too.

“I’m sorry, Nina,” the young girl says, “I had to pee and was just flushing the toilet when she must have heard you pull up and…”

I don’t what the hell else she said to Nina—I can’t take my eyes off the child. The age, the face shape, the eyes—she’s gotta be mine.

I haven’t seen a lot of photos of my mom as a kid, but this child looks like a tanned version of her with golden ringlets.

All of Nina’s weirdness suddenly makes sense, and for a moment, I’m stuck in processing mode.

If this is my kid, I need to go to her.

I practically want to pat her head and see if she’s real because this can’t be real, right? I can’t have had a child on this earth for almost five years and not known about it?

I try not to jump to conclusions; after all, who says Nina didn’t ‘have relations’ with someone else the night after we slept together? Who knows how many other candidates are out there?

I stroll toward the girl and bend until I’m about her height.

“Well, hello there,” I begin. “What’s your name?”

“Bianca,” she says. “Bianca Colton.”

Now it feels like the earth itself has suddenly stopped spinning—the pressure between my ears has changed.

The child has my last name. Why would Nina give her my last name?

My eyes go to Nina, who is watching us with trepidation, twisting and fiddling with her fingers.

My gaze is anything but friendly or forgiving as I turn it to her. How the hell could Nina keep something this huge from me?

With tremendous effort, I shove down my anger and turn back to the child.

This isn’t the place—not in front of her.

Bianca is watching me with intelligent eyes.

I form a smile.

“I’m Brent,” I say. “Brent Colton.”

She sucks in a breath and her eyes widen.

Then she says, “Like me!” with a radiant smile, and something in me begins to crack.

Then the child turns to Nina and says, “Wait, is it him?” She turns back to me. “You’re my dad, aren’t you? You found your way back! What took you so long?”

Emotions continue to choke me, cutting off my words, so I grab the child to me and hold her against me as I wait for my throat to open back up.

Bianca’s little arms hugging me back completes the break and a few tears escape as the moment impresses itself on me.

I have a daughter.

Not only do I have a daughter, but I also missed everything about the first years of her life.

I will never see her baby face smile a gummy smile at me. I will never watch her first tooth emerge. I will never get to rejoice in her first words or see her learn to walk.

All of those years stolen from me and no chance of getting any of it back.

Talk about something money can’t buy.

How could Nina do this to me?

“Welcome home, Daddy,” Bianca says warmly, and my heart suddenly lifts.

Nothing like the first time hearing her call me Daddy. At least there’s that.

W
hen I stand back up
, the joy of meeting and holding my child is fading and quickly being replaced by fury.

I’m so angry with Nina, I don’t know what to do with myself; I feel like I might blow my top.

I’ve never been this furious my entire life.

I can’t trust myself around her, and I can’t let the child see me in this state. No way I can let Bianca see how angry I am at her mom—I can’t give her the impression that her dad’s the Tasmanian devil. I don’t know a thing about raising kids right now, but I suspect fighting in front of them is a bad idea.

It’s time to go.

“I’ve got to go,” I say to Nina without looking at her.

“Where’re you going?” Bianca asks in her adorable little voice, making it harder for me to do what I need to do.

“Oh, I’ll be back, sweetheart,” I say, ruffling her hair. “You and Daddy will be hanging out a lot from now on. I have so much to learn about you.”

“Yay!” she says with another radiant smile. “Will you be back tomorrow?”

Now that I know she exists and I’ve seen that face and heard that voice, knowing how much time I’ve missed with her and how much time Nina continued to let me miss with her by not telling me about her right away, how can I not find a way to see my daughter every day?

I don’t want to lose another minute, but the way I feel right now, I have to take a moment before I act.

“Soon, baby,” I say.

I have to force myself to be patient and think before I do or promise anything.

I finally shoot Nina a laser gaze, and she has the nerve to suddenly look defiant.

Excuse her?

The way I feel right now, she’ll be lucky if I don’t sweep this child away from her.

I
t takes
a whole day for me to calm down a tiny bit and come to a sensible decision regarding the next step.

Nina and I obviously have to find a way to make this work, and she’s crazy if she thinks my kid’s going to stay in that neighborhood or that I won’t see my child every fucking day—as soon as we figure out where to go from here.

Nina’s in my life to stay now, and I’m pretty happy about that overall. Even when she’s pissing me off, she adds something to it.

Right now, I’m thinking I’ll move them into my mansion and probably pull Bianca from whatever school she’s in and get her into a better one.

Granted, I don’t know anything about where she is now, but I’m sure we can upgrade her.

I get one of my assistants to begin research on pre-schools and kindergartens in the area. Plus we’ll have to consider where to put her once she begins elementary.

I’m glad Nina had the sense to use my surname for her—it’ll make everything a bit easier.

I start thinking about which room to turn into Bianca’s room.

I’ll get some input from the child before I go redecorating one, but I can start ordering in some toys at least.

Nina can stay in any of the other bedrooms—she has nine to choose from.

As mad as I am at her, though, I only want her in mine.

I continue working on ways to get the mansion ready for them.

I don’t care what Nina has to say—they’re both moving in with me.

I start putting calls in and making arrangements.

At some point, it occurs to me—what the hell am I supposed to tell my dad? How do I tell him I knocked up some girl in college and have a kid?

I was so goddamned careful every other time, but this one time I messed up and forged ahead without taking precautions and here we are.

Apparently, I forgot that’s how things worked out sometimes because it didn’t even cross my mind that Nina could have gotten pregnant.

I must’ve just assumed she was on the pill or something, even after it became clear she wasn’t exactly experienced.

With some effort, I push the heavy thoughts of the past away and continue planning my future with Nina and Bianca.

N
ina’s calling me again
.

Seventeen missed calls and counting. It’s only been a few days!

I remember staring at the number of calls I’d missed from her after our college graduation.

I couldn’t keep track—I lost count after forty-eight.

All I could do was stare at her name in my call log, and as much as my fingers itched to dial her back, I couldn’t.

I had life plans that couldn’t involve her too deeply, a relationship I was trying to salvage. A father to please.

Back then, I figured a clean break was best for us and eventually changed my number.

I was so caught up in guilt for cheating on Stacey—the daughter of one of my father’s friends—that I soon put the whole incident with Nina out of my mind.

I wasn’t all that into Stacey and had planned to break up with her before sleeping with Nina, and I know that was no excuse to do what I did to her, but she sure as hell used it as an excuse for a lot that came after.

I’d never cheated before or after her, and when I tried to break up with her, she was horrified at the idea.

“Wait, you cheat on
me
and then y
ou
try to break up with m
e
?”

By the time she was done ripping me a new one, I figured I owed her; I owed our relationship another shot. Being with her became a matter of duty to her and to my dad.

At some point, it became clear to both of us that we weren’t going anywhere, but not before she guilted me into a lot more things—including shutting out my best friend.

How could I possibly deny her that request considering what I’d done?

Now, as I watch my phone light up, I realize there’s a chance Nina could have been trying to let me know the news of her pregnancy with all those calls to me and it finally hits me—I can’t let something like that happen again.

What if she’s calling me about Bianca right now? What if something’s happened to her?

My sense of duty and heavy guilt fucked me over before—I can’t let my anger screw me over this time.

I finally call her back, my heart pounding as my thoughts are suddenly flooded with the worst.

I hear her let out a breath before she says, “We need to talk. And not over the phone.”

There is a weight to her words I can’t ignore.

Something dire has most certainly happened.

“It’s not Bianca, is it? Is she okay?”

“Bianca’s fine—physically anyway. Listen, I got a weird visit the other day. From your dad.”

A ball of dread starts to form in my stomach.

W
e arrange
to meet up at a café on her lunch break, and as I sit waiting for her, I’m nervous and I don’t like it.

My dad didn’t mention having plans to pay Nina a visit, and I can only imagine what choice things he might have had to say to her.

All nervousness evaporates once I spot Nina heading toward me, and I’m flooded with so much affection and joy at the sight of her, I feel like whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. Nothing can be terrible when Nina’s near me.

She seems to be on the verge of biting her fingernails herself, and when her eyes finally flutter to me, she looks a bit struck and takes me in quickly before regaining composure.

I’m glad to see my effect on her.

She lets out a huge breath once she sits opposite me.

“Long or short version?” she says.

“Long.” I’m keeping her here as long as I can.

“Okay,” she says. “Two days ago, as I headed to my rental, I saw a black stretch car with tinted windows pull up near me, and I immediately thought it was you because who else would show up at my job in such a vehicle? Then when the driver hopped out and opened the door a little as if to invite me in, I happily walked toward the open door, glad you were finally ready to talk again. Of course, once I got inside I realized immediately it wasn’t you—it was an older guy who didn’t exactly look happy to see me.

‘I’ve heard about my granddaughter,’ he said, and then I realized who it was—especially since he bore a slight resemblance to you. ‘And I would love to meet her.’

“I wasn’t sure what to say so I stayed silent. Plus, there was something ominous about him, so though his words sounded innocent enough, I felt a sort of catch coming.

‘Not a woman of many words, huh? Wonderful quality indeed,’ he said.”

Nina rolls her eyes, and I just know she wanted to call Dad a name, but she held her tongue for my sake.

“Then he said, ‘I have a proposition for you. Our family values our name, our reputation. No one needs to know the bastard’s a Colton. I realize she already bears the name, but there’s no need for her to be connected to our branch. We’ll take care of all the needs of you and your daughter as long as you keep your mouth shut about it. Pick anywhere in the world to live, and your daughter will have everything she could ever want—access to the best schools, a solid trust fund. Think of all the benefits she’ll have as a wealthy child once we fatten your accounts. And once she’s of age, she’s guaranteed to be matched with one of the wealthiest men on earth since she’ll have access to those circles. A life of luxury till the end of her days—this is what I offer you for your silence.”

Nina lets out a breath.

Rage builds in me, and I can tell Nina’s getting mad again having to recap it to me.

“I didn’t appreciate the offer as you can imagine, but I had to think carefully—I was in some stranger’s car. What if I said no? Would he drive off with me and have me killed and my body disposed of? Obviously you guys have a butt-ton of money; he could probably get away with anything, especially disappearing a woman like me—someone not many people would bother looking for.”