Baby: A Billionaire Boys novel Read online

  Baby

  A Billionaire Boys novel

  Henley Maverick

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  1. Phoenix

  2. Darby

  3. Phoenix

  4. Darby

  5. Phoenix

  6. Darby

  7. Phoenix

  8. Darby

  9. Phoenix

  10. Indiana

  About the Author

  Also by Henley Maverick

  Did you miss your chance to read Moxley and Sawyer’s story?

  To my grandmother, who has always been an avid reader of my books

  Copyright © 2019 by Henley Maverick

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Printed in the United States of America

  One

  Phoenix

  Eight weeks earlier

  The waitress was fucking distracting. As a general rule, he tended to keep it to himself, preferring not to get entangled in anything, particularly not in a bar of all places, especially with the hungry looks women were throwing his way.

  With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket draped across the back of his seat, and his watch on prominent display, he was sure that his appearance screamed money. That alone was enough to make someone want to up their game, pushing their breasts up to get his attention, but he paid them no mind, his eyes fixed on his glass of scotch.

  After a long day at work, it was exactly what he needed, the perfect way to wind down and take the edge off. He hadn’t even planned on being here tonight, with a well-balanced and nutritious meal courtesy of his housekeeper waiting for him at home. For the first time in entirely too long, the only plan he had for the night was to watch something on Netflix, maybe even start that new show everyone was raving about, or something like that.

  Yes, it had been the perfect plan, the allure of a quiet evening at home with hardly any paperwork, a refreshing change from his usual study, littered with cold takeout, and papers strewn everywhere.

  Unfortunately, the meeting had not gone as well as he’d hoped, and he walked out frustrated, waves of it rolling off him, so instead of walking right past the bar on his block, he walked in, without giving himself a chance to back out, an entire speech prepared about being responsible.

  Just this once, he could let go of the reins just a little.

  The only issue was the hot waitress who kept stopping by his booth, offering him a small smile each time she came over and bringing him a refill without exchanging any kind of word.

  He had no idea if it was because she was interested as well, or genuinely concerned, but she didn’t give him any indication of either, neither pausing longer than necessary nor batting her eyelashes at him.

  In fact, she seemed to treat all her customers with the same kind of care, making him feel less special as his eyes fell down to her ass, admiring how firm it looked from where he was standing.

  She wasn’t even dressed provocatively, with her knee-length shorts and a plain white t-shirt, the name of the place stitched across the back. Without even trying, she was driving him crazy, her hips held a natural sway that made his mind head somewhere else.

  Shit, man. You must’ve really had a lot to drink. You’re here to relax, remember? Not think about banging some chick. Even if she was incredibly sexy.

  She stood in front of the table next to him, the tip of the pencil resting on her bottom lip as she chewed on it thoughtfully and shifted from one foot to the other, the gesture strangely alluring.

  “Would you like something to eat?”

  Phoenix glanced up sharply, nearly knocking over the beer bottle in the process. “Yeah, I guess I could eat. What do you have that’s good?”

  She took the pencil out of her hair and tapped it against her mouth. “Well, if you’re a meat person then we have a good selection of burgers. There’s also wings or fries coated in cheese. We’ve got vegan burgers too if you’d rather try those.”

  Phoenix made a face. “I don’t even know why people eat that shit. No offense.”

  She offered a polite smile. “So, no vegan for you then?”

  “No, I’ll have a burger with everything on top and extra ranch dressing on the side. I’ll also have the fries and a diet coke.”

  Quickly, she jotted his order down, a little more than squiggles as far as he could see, but he had no idea how the food serving industry operated, and he had to believe she knew what she was doing. Everyone here seemed to, considering the number of clients, most of whom seemed like regulars.

  “Coming right up.”

  “Thank you.” He scanned her name tag, his eyes blurring for a second before he read her name. “Darby. That’s an interesting name.”

  She looked up. “Thanks.”

  “I’m Phoenix,” he said, holding his hand out. She tucked the notepad under her arm and reached for his hand, a quick flash of electricity passing between. Puzzled, he drew his hand back and gave her a big smile, showing off a row of white teeth.

  “Like the bird?” Darby asked. “An immortal bird who rises from the ashes.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Your parents must’ve been big on symbolism,” Darby commented, traces of amusement in her tone. “Though I imagine you did get teased for having a name like that.”

  “My nickname used to be Phe as in Phew thank God he’s gone,” Phoenix revealed, wanting to kick himself over the head for sharing that particularly personal tidbit with a complete stranger.

  Sure, she seemed nice enough, but he wasn’t here to meet anyone.

  Darby smiled sympathetically. “Well, at least they didn’t call you Derby, like the horse-racing tournament.”

  Phoenix snorted. “They really called you that? On purpose? That’s not even original.”

  Darby shrugged. “No, I guess not.”

  A commotion sounded behind them, and Darby glanced over her shoulder, tensing before she relaxed. “I’ll be right back with your order.”

  With that, she walked off, quick to clean up the mess left behind by some of the patrons, beer dripping all over the floor and shards of glass scattered. As professionally as possible, keeping her cool, she cleaned up after them, a neutral expression plastered onto her features.

  Phoenix tore his gaze away, turning his attention to the phone spread out before him, infuriatingly quiet, not a single name lighting up his screen, much to his dismay. True to her word, Darby materialized a few minutes later, with a tray of sizzling meat, and fries, drenched in cheese.

  As she set them down in front of him, he took a quick moment to admire her physique, to imagine running his fingers over her tanned skin and to picture her spread out before him, eyes dark with desire.

  Somehow, as if she sensed his train of thought, Darby looked up, their faces mere inches apart, and her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, confusion mirrored in her orbs. She coughed and leaned back, straightening her spine.

  “I get off in ten minutes,” Darby said, surprising them both.

  He definitely hadn’t expected her to make the first move. It was even more of a turn-on than he expected, with his body reacting almost instantly. He shifted in his seat and gave her a slow smirk, his gaze lingering, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” Phoenix promised.

/>   “I don’t normally do this,” Darby admitted, a short puff of air coming out of her mouth, curling up between them. She shoved her hands into her jacket and cleared her throat. “You should know that.”

  Phoenix pushed himself off the wall, using one arm to sling the jacket over his shoulder while the other was deep in his pocket. “Neither do I.”

  He took out his hand and cupped her face, his thumb tracing her lower jaw. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Darby searched his face, lips curving into a slow smile. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

  Without pausing, her lips crashed against his, soft yet demanding, the subtle firmness of them a hint of what was to come. He shifted, pressing himself closer to her, nibbling on her bottom lip.

  With a sigh, her lips parted, and his tongue plunged in, immediately exploring, beginning a sensual battle for dominance when she tentatively touched her tongue to his, uncertain and unfamiliar.

  He made a low growling noise in the back of his throat, pushing himself even further, so Darby had to take a step backward, her back coming to rest against the bar’s wall, her fingers sinking into his hair.

  She angled her head, allowing him better access to her neck, and he obliged, wrenching his lips away, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses down to the curve of her breasts, heaving with the effort.

  Her fingers tightened around his hair, and she hooked one leg around his waist, opening herself up to him. He shuddered in response, mind wracked with desire. He shook his head slightly and pulled back, hungrily drinking her in.

  Outside the breakroom, she fumbled with the handle, his lips pressed to the back of her neck, his arms coming up around her waist, squeezing suggestively. She sucked in a deep breath, shoved the key into the lock and pushed it open.

  In a second, Phoenix kicked the door closed with his leg and pushed her up against the wall, their lips finding each other once more. His hands snaked underneath her shirt, working their way around till he undid the clasp on her bra, allowing her breasts to spill forward.

  He brushed his fingers along the sensitive nubs then pulled back, yanking the shirt over her head and tossing it onto the floor. She made quick work of his shirt, her fingers tracing over the buttons deftly before she let it flutter down, and he kicked it away.

  Soon enough, they were both naked, save for their underwear, her body glistening, glowing underneath the moonlight streaming in through the open curtain. He reached for her, his mouth clamping on her nipple and tugging hard. She cried out, her hips bucking in surprise, nails digging into his back.

  She lifted herself, legs wrapped around his waist, and he moved them backward.

  As soon as they landed on the table, he kicked her legs apart and settled himself there, his erection straining against his boxer, the blood in his body molten hot. She pushed herself up and knelt between them, using her teeth to scrape against his thin thigh, tugging his boxers down.

  He hooked his thumb under the waistband of her panties and yanked it down, sliding it over her legs. In the next moment, she was on her back, dark hair spread out, and he centered himself, entering her in one long thrust.

  Phoenix held himself still, allowing her a moment to adjust, to adapt to him. A surprised gasp escaped her lips, and she wrapped her legs around his torso, threading her fingers through his hair.

  Needing no further encouragement, he pushed in even further then slid out and slammed back in, earning a throaty moan in response. In a few minutes, he was pumping into her furiously, the little whimpering noises she was making sounding like music to his ears.

  Her body writhed beneath him as she rode out to her climax, slick with sweat. He drew back and flipped her over, cupping her ass as he slid in, watching as her fingers dug into the sheets, her head tossed back in reckless ecstasy.

  She leaned back into him, her moans echoing his grunts, the bed squeaking underneath the pressure. All too soon, her second orgasm came, and she bucked wildly, flipping herself over and reaching for him.

  Phoenix pulled up his pants and saluted her.

  Well, that was fun.

  Now, it was time to get back to the real world.

  Two

  Darby

  Fuck.

  Shitty Fuck.

  Was there a description stronger than that? She had no idea, but if there was, she would certainly be using it right now, heedless of the fact that she was hiding in the employee bathroom at work, staring down at a small stick that would change her life forever.

  The pristine white stick stared up, glaring and accusatory, the two pink lines unbearably bright underneath the fluorescent lights. She gave her head a slight shake and reached for the box, flipping it over to read the instructions on the back.

  As per the instructions, she’d peed on the stick and waited, the five minutes dragging by, agonizingly slow, a clip of her life playing out in her mind’s eye, a series of montages filled with both her greatest and worst hits; her most revealing album yet.

  How the hell did she get into this situation?

  Yes, she knew that she slept with a guy; it wasn’t as if she didn’t know the logistics of it, but she’d allowed her life to be derailed, to be knocked off track and now there was no way she was going to get it back.

  It was one thing to be a struggling waitress, bussing tables for a living as she tried to save up enough to sign up for a day class, chasing after her dream to become a teacher. She’d wanted it pretty much since elementary school, and she helped tutor her friends.

  The thrill she’d gotten when they showed her the big fat A in a bold red marker was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she wanted to relieve it over and over again. Unfortunately, as soon as she graduated high school, she realized she couldn’t afford to go to a private college, public college was nothing like she expected, and she barely managed to make it through two years before she dropped out, unable to keep up with the workload.

  Life had come knocking on her door, and she hadn’t been able to avoid it any longer, staring out through the peephole and hoping it would go away on its own. Eventually, she’d started working an odd array of jobs here and there, struggling to make ends meet till she landed on waitressing.

  By far, the most flexible out of all the jobs she had, it comfortably paid the bills and then some, allowing her to pick up extra shifts, so she could be back to school when she was ready.

  That had always been the plan, to pick up where she left off.

  Bile rose in the back of her throat, and she shoved it back, sliding against the stall, her knees coming up, so her head could rest against them. Her stomach gurgled, the contents of her stomach rising up.

  She gathered her hair up into a loose ponytail and leaned over the seat.

  When she was done, she reached for the toilet paper and used it to wipe the dribble off her lips, reality crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. This just couldn’t be happening, not now.

  Not to her.

  She had to believe this was some kind of twisted form of reality, a sick nightmare she would wake up from. All she had to do was trigger some kind of escape, and she’d wake up in her bed, drenched in sweat, hand draped across her stomach, thankfully empty.

  Pregnant.

  The word echoed over and over in her head, a mantra drilled into the back of her skull, an anthem she couldn’t escape. This was going to be the soundtrack to her life no matter what she did.

  Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to keep the baby, but the thought of ending a life seemed worse, the idea of it making her heart seize in terror, her hand flying protectively to her abdomen.

  No, it appeared abortion wasn’t an option, not based on the way she was feeling.

  She hadn’t even known she was maternal, but here it was, the proof in the pudding as they say. Hesitantly, she stretched her legs out before it, as far as the stall would allow, and she lifted her shirt, running her fingers over her flat belly, wondering about the being inside.

  He
r baby.

  The thought filled her with equal amounts of terror and awe. For starters, she had no idea how to be a mother, her own having passed away when she was little, her vague memories of her barely enough to form a complete picture.

  Maybe she would give the baby away, to a happy couple who wanted to expand their family. Yes, she rather liked that idea, her head filled with images of cooing parents, bent over a baby crib, and a small face swaddled in blankets.

  Of course she knew who the father was, but she hadn’t seen or heard from Phoenix since the wild night against the wall outside and then in the break room. The first and last time she’d ever done anything like that.

  She was hard-pressed to even divulge why she’d done it. As a general rule of thumb, she was a rather sensible woman, making sure she planned everything out and accounted for consequences, but that fateful night, she remembered being in a foul mood, the desire to do something, anything to blow off some steam at the forefront of her brain until he’d walked in.

  He’d been dressed in an expensive suit, with hair the color of russet standing out like a sore thumb, even when he’d tried to blend in with the regular clients, stripping off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

  If anything, that made people notice him more, the toned forearms, and his aura of authority. He was obviously a man who was used to being in charge, to snapping his fingers and having people do exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  It was intoxicating to be around that.

  Like the other women in the bar, she hadn’t been immune to it, but she had tried to fight it, telling herself that it would do her no good to get mixed up with a man like that.

  But then he’d smiled at her, and all common sense was thrown right out the window.

  Yes, she knew that sounded incredibly cheesy, like a Hallmark movie moment where she’d gone weak in the knees for a man with a killer smile. Even the situation itself felt contrived, meeting in a bar, yet here she was, living proof.