The Billionaire's Mistress Complete Series

  Kendrick looked around the room, his face flushing at the sight of a bunch of women, decked out in their best, surrounding me. Mom had a pin in her hand, and I wondered if she was seriously considering stabbing him with it. I wouldn't stop her.

  He nodded at everybody, and when he saw my mom, something softened on his face. “Malla.”

  She inclined her head. “Hello, Kendrick.” Then she looked at me. “I expect you’d like a moment alone?”

  Panic flooded me. I didn't want to do this alone, but she was already ushering everybody in the sitting room off to the side.

  In seconds, everyone else was gone, and it was just us.

  “I’ve already made my apologies to Jal.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, ruining the lines of one very expensive suit. If Diamond were here, she’d have scolded him.

  I considered stepping off of the stool, but it put me closer to his height and, at the moment, I liked that. “I know. He told me that you’d written to him.”

  “No.” He looked away, then forced his gaze back. “That's not what I meant. I went to see him before I came in here. Considering what I'd done, I figured I should man up and actually apologize, not have my assistant send him some bullshit half-ass apology.”

  “Wow.” I blinked at him. He actually sounded like something of the man I'd known as a child, the man my mother had fallen in love with. I managed a wobbly smile. “You look like Kendrick Hedges, and you sound like him, but that doesn’t sound like something he would say.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s occurred to me that Kendrick Hedges is an asshole.” His lips curved up in a partial smile. “And I’m sorry for it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He looked surprised.

  “Yeah. Okay. I can’t say I’ll forget what you did, but…well, you apologized to Jal. If he can let it go…”

  “He said he can.” His voice went low and husky. He started to turn to go but then paused. “Allie, you look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” I didn’t want to think about how close I was to crying.

  While we had an interpreter for the majority of the ceremony, TJ’s girlfriend, Carrie, would be doing the interpreting for the wedding vows. She was a natural, having picked it up quicker than most hearing people did. She'd told us a couple days ago that she was considering going into either education with a focus on those with hearing disabilities, or becoming an interpreter herself.

  Her parents sat up front, looking proud enough to burst. They were amazing. They'd liked TJ from moment one and hadn't even blinked over the differences between the two. Now, watching TJ standing at Jal's side, his face glowing as he stared at Carrie, I had a suspicion that these two would be one of the few high school sweethearts who actually made it.

  He'd hit a growth spurt over the last few months and was now pushing five-nine. He’d gotten into playing basketball lately. Jal played with him quite a bit at the community center, and TJ had decided to try out for the school team in the fall. When I'd asked him about it, he'd said, “I can’t hear, but my legs and arms and everything works fine. Other deaf people do it. Why can’t I?”

  I was so proud of him, I hurt sometimes.

  He smiled at me as I walked up the aisle, between both of my fathers.

  Mom had come into the room shortly after Kendrick had left and had said that she and Tyson had talked and that if I wanted my biological father to walk me down the aisle, Tyson wouldn't be hurt by it. I'd only thought about it for a few seconds before I said yes, I wanted them both to do it.

  Weddings were a symbol of new beginnings. Maybe something good would grow from having us all together. Kendrick had never been a perfect father, but he'd never completely abandoned me as many men in his position would have. Tyson had given me the stable father figure at home. It only seemed right that they both give me away.

  Then I saw Jal.

  His eyes were locked on me like nothing else existed, and my heart skipped a beat. The rest of the world faded away. The vows, the rings, all of it passed by in a blur. It was all formality – a wanted formality of course – but we belonged to each from the moment we first met. We were just making it official.

  When he kissed me, the earth finally seemed to stop spinning and everything re-aligned. This was real. It was all real. He was mine, and I was his and we were married.

  My head was spinning again when I finally sat down. It could have been from the champagne or the lack of food, but I suspected it was a combination of everything that was making me light-headed.

  Somebody pushed a plate into my hands, and I looked up, met Ginnifer’s eyes. She gave me another one of her cool smiles. “If you pass out on your wedding day, you’ll be sorry. Trust me, I know.”

  I frowned, wondering if there was a story behind those words, but instead of asking, I popped a bit of toast with brie into my mouth.

  “I fainted at my wedding. I hadn’t eaten, didn’t want to risk having anybody see me eat.” She glanced around. “It’s such a passé thing to do – eat in public. But then again, so is passing out.”

  She sat in the seat next to me, holding a plate of her own. After I’d eaten a couple of bites, she sampled a crudité.

  “You made an excellent choice with the caterer, Allie.”

  “You recommended him.”

  “But you chose him.” She studied Jal, dancing with my mother. “Just as you chose my son. You have excellent taste.”

  “I like to think so.”

  She nodded and rose. “Remember, the car will be here in a half hour. Enjoy the honeymoon. I’m going to find my husband for a dance.”

  Husband. I had one of those now. I decided to follow my mother-in-law's example.

  I spent the rest of my reception in my husband’s arms, my head on his chest. It didn’t matter if it was a fast song or a slow one, that was where I stayed. I never wanted to leave.

  “Are you excited?” he asked, his lips next to my ear.

  I looked up at him. “For the trip? Damn straight. I've always wanted to see New Zealand.”

  His bare fingers tripped across the bare skin of my back. “No, wife. By what I’m going to do to you tonight…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Allie

  Allie

  Audrey Anne Lindstrom lay in her crib in her nursery, my perfect little angel.

  The whirlwind of activity that started within days of me seeing the little pink plus on the pregnancy test hadn't stopped until mid-January.

  I loved the house where we’d lived, where I first slept with Jal, but he’d been insistent that his child – his children – have the kind of house that was a home, not a fortress. And he wanted us to pick it out together.

  Granted, the place was still huge, but it definitely looked like a place for a family. There was a yard and a playset. And a pool – behind a stone fence with a gate.

  All these ands – along with others like a family room with an in-home theater – were courtesy of Jal, who simply didn’t know the meaning of excess and whose bank account seemed to have no end.

  I’d drawn a line at the bowling alley in the basement.

  “It’s not like you’re going to go bowling anytime soon, huh?” I asked her, reaching down to stroke one plump cheek.

  She jumped, but it was the touch that had made her move, not my voice.

  We'd had her tested as soon as possible since there was a good chance that my mother's hearing loss was genetic. I'd been torn when the news had come back that Audrey was profoundly deaf. It didn't make her any less perfect in my eyes, but I knew how the world worked, how things would be harder for her.

  But as my mother had told me a hundred times, obstacles in life are what makes us strong.

  Audrey would be just fine.

  We’d make sure of that.

  Arms, warm and strong, came around me, and Jal pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Hello, my beautiful wife,” he said softly.

  “Hello, my handsome husband.”

  We stood there, watch
ing Audrey sleep.

  Jal stroked his hands up and down my arms, and I relaxed into the warmth of his body. “I can’t believe we have to wait three more weeks,” I said.

  “After what I saw?” Jal sounded strained. “It might take me six years before I’m ready to put you through that again.”

  I laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get over it.”

  Turning, I slid my arms around his neck, my stomach clenching at the heat in his eyes. We might not be able to have actual sex yet, but there were still plenty of things I enjoyed doing to him in the meantime.

  But that wasn't at the front of my mind at the moment. We hadn’t talked about certain…things much. After a minute, I pulled away because we needed to talk, which was hard to do it when we were so close.

  I twisted my wedding ring as I looked out the window.

  “You know, there are changes in medical technology, new breakthroughs,” I said. “There are so many options that weren't available for Mom or Tyson, or even TJ. We can–”

  Jal cut me off with a soft kiss.

  Then, he signed, “She’s perfect. If she wants to look into options when she’s older, then we’ll support her. But to me, she’s already perfect.”

  I stepped into his embrace and rested my head on his chest. The steady sound of his heartbeat worked through me, relaxed me. It'd been nearly two years since we'd first met and our lives had been turned upside-down. Getting to where we were had been hard, but it'd been worth it.

  I had a tentative, but real, relationship with my biological father now. Mallory was one of my closest friends. Jal's parents were amazing. The last of the chill between Ginnifer and me had thawed when I told her I was pregnant. Tao, Tony, and Lyrrie were still together. Diamond and Paisley were still furious, but word had gotten out about what they'd done – I was pretty sure Ginnifer had been responsible for it – and now it was the two of them that people talked about behind their backs.

  “You know,” I said softly. “When you first walked into FOCUS, I couldn't have imagined that we'd end up here, like this.”

  “Me either,” Jal admitted. “But I wouldn't change a thing.”

  As I thought about everything that had happened, the good and the bad alike, I realized I wouldn't either. Those months had been hard, but it'd made the two of us stronger, made our relationship stronger.

  “I love you.” I pushed myself up on my toes to brush my lips against his.

  “I love you too.” He brushed my hair out of my face and then grinned. “Now, what do you say we find some creative ways of relieving tension that don't break the doctor's orders.”

  I laughed and let him pull me from the nursery, down the hall, and into our bedroom.

  The End

  Turn the page and read the complete first novel from my bestselling series, Forbidden Pleasures.

  Bonus Book: Forbidden Pleasures

  Forbidden Pleasures

  A Novel

  By M.S. Parker

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Belmonte Publishing LLC

  Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC.

  Chapter One

  It happened during my last session with my court-appointed therapist. She'd given me two pieces of advice that I decided to follow. The first was to not let anyone define who I was, to be an individual who was comfortable in her own skin. The second was to have a healthy sex life. I remember thinking that was kind of strange, considering I was only eighteen at the time.

  Somehow, I doubted this was what she pictured when she'd imparted those words of wisdom.

  The man beneath me moaned as I rode him. The muscles in my thighs were starting to burn with each rise and fall, but I didn't slow. I kept my eyes open, my head down, but I barely registered the pretty-boy features of the young man I'd picked up just an hour ago. My hands splayed on his muscular chest, helping me balance.

  “Fuck, babe, you're so tight.”

  Okay, so I hadn't picked the guy for his eloquence, but he had a nice thick cock and no issues with me calling the shots. That's what mattered.

  I flexed my muscles the way I'd been taught, and he swore again. “I work out,” I said and flexed again.

  I leaned forward, and he pushed himself up on his elbows, his mouth latching on to a pale pink nipple. My eyelids fluttered as he sucked on it, his tongue and teeth teasing, but I didn't close my eyes. I always fucked with my eyes open… always. Lights on. No exceptions.

  “Harder,” I said and ground down, the angle allowing just the right amount of friction on my clit. I was close. The pressure inside me was at the point where I had to come or explode. “Come on... baby.” I almost tripped over not knowing his name, but I caught myself. “Suck harder. Make me come.”

  Technically, I was doing most of the work, but he deserved a little credit for his nice cock and the wonderful things his mouth was doing to my breast, especially when he followed my directions. Never underestimate the importance of a man who does what he's told.

  “Ah,” I moaned as the suction increased, sending jolts of intense pleasure from my breasts straight to my throbbing pussy. I moved one of my hands to the place where my body joined with his and my fingers found my clit. I rubbed it with quick, rapid circles, the combined friction and pressure making it hurt beautifully. I always needed that edge.

  “Fuck, I'm gonna...” The guy's words turned into a loud grunt as his hips jerked up against me, his final thrusts hard and fast.

  The hand not between my legs moved to my breast. Even as I felt my partner's cock begin to pulse inside the condom, it was my turn. A light pinch and twist to my nipple, and I was there. My muscles tensed and my pussy contracted around the thick shaft inside. The nameless young man swore again, his face a mask of pain-pleasure. As I descended from my high, I rolled off him, and his now-sensitive cock slipped out. I lay on my side, breathing heavily and enjoying the little bursts of electricity racing along my nerves, the aftershocks of a pretty good orgasm. Eight on a scale of ten.

  He moved closer and I immediately stiffened, adrenaline flooding my system. I jerked upright, pushing myself back until I was well out of arm's reach.

  “Easy, babe.” He gave me a smile, showing a set of deep dimples that went perfectly with his baby blues. He leaned on his elbow. “That was amazing.”

  I nodded in agreement and climbed off the narrow dorm bed. College boys were easy, but their beds were generally shit. I picked up my underwear and bra.

  “Leaving already?”

  I glanced at him as I dressed. He hadn't moved, even to cover himself.

  “Come back,” he continued. “Give me ten minutes and an energy drink from the mini-fridge, I'll be good to go again.”

  It wasn't even remotely tempting since that would mean at least ten minutes of small talk, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I wasn't a bitch, no matter how often I'd been called one. “Thanks, but no. I have to go to work.”

  He glanced at the clock, a puzzled expression settling on his handsome face. “It's three in the afternoon.”

  I smiled and shrugged as I adjusted my tank top. His eyes locked onto the bit of cleavage the tight black top exposed. I didn't say anything. He'd seen them bare. As long as he kept his hands to himself now, he could look all he wanted.

  “Will I see you around?” He sat up, but didn't reach for me.

  “Probably not for a while,” I answered truthfully. While I liked coming to campus, I generally tried not to frequent the same places when I had an itch to scratch. No matter how good the sex, I rarely repeated. I knew society liked to pretend it was the women who got clingy, but I'd met plenty of men who thought a couple roles in the hay meant we were a regular thing.

  I smoothed down my miniskirt
and pulled on my nearly knee-high boots. I had two pairs, but these were my favorites. The four-inch heels raised me close to five-eight and I preferred being tall. Plus, if I ran into any trouble, they packed a hell of a kick.

  “Where do you work?”

  I gave him a small smile, but didn't answer. I scanned the carpet. One of my earrings had fallen out. I still had the other three in my right earlobe, but the hoop from the cartilage at the top was missing.

  “Let me guess.”

  I rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn't see my face. I knew what was coming. I knew how people saw me. I'd dyed my hair several times over the years, but for the past six months, I had rocked a bright blue. It was cropped short, angled at my chin in a way that kept my heart-shaped face from looking too delicate. My eyes were a pale gray that most people thought were contacts though they were one hundred percent natural. Aside from the multiple piercings in my ears, I also had an eyebrow ring and one in my bellybutton. That, plus my numerous tattoos and the way I dressed, meant people generally made the wrong assumptions regarding my occupation.

  “Dancer at The Blue Moon?”

  At least he’d picked one of the classier strip clubs in the area. I had a feeling more than one of my conquests over the past three and a half years had gone trolling clubs looking for me. The thought was amusing. What did it say about the state of feminism in society when a woman couldn't express herself through her appearance without people assuming she was a stripper?

  I finally spotted the small silver hoop and slid it back into place with practiced ease. “It was fun,” I said as I headed out the door.

  By the time I reached the dorm lobby, I was already running through my schedule for the day, my encounter all but forgotten. I only had two jobs today, but the second had a long list of things I needed to do, most of which had to wait until everyone at the company had gone home. Those were my second favorite kind of jobs, because it meant I rarely had anyone staring at me or trying to talk to me while I worked. The best work was, of course, the kind I could do from home. I liked crowds at clubs and concerts, the anonymity that came with being part of the masses, but I wasn't a social person. There was only so much personal interaction I could handle at a time. I'd heard half a dozen psychological diagnosis as well as a multitude of reasons behind them. I had a simpler explanation that I preferred.