Page 12 of The Billionaire’s Secret Twins (Love for the Holidays #11)

Dominic

A ngie’s gorgeous as she approaches, her curvy form clad only in a tiny bikini with a cloth wrapped around her waist. I’ve never met a young woman with breasts so big, a waist so narrow, and who’s also constantly wet between her legs.

The male animal in me growls with pleasure and appreciation as Angie approaches because this woman is mine.

Every breath she takes, every pleasured gasp?

They belong to me. I know it’s fucking territorial, but that’s how I feel.

I’ve touched every square inch of that creamy body, and it all belongs to me.

Needless to say, our vacation to Santorini has been pleasurable.

Sure, there are the blue skies of the Greek Isles, the choppy waves of the Aegean, and the picturesque white cliffside homes seen in every fucking postcard.

But more than anything, I’ve been enjoying my time with Angela because my housekeeper isn’t a housekeeper anymore.

She’s my personal fuckdoll with a wet, receptive snatch, and a tight, clenching asshole. I absolutely love it.

But the curvy girl loves it too. She lets me do anything and everything to her body, and more often than not, the curvy girl’s seeping with my sperm.

Yes, I’ve come in her a few times unprotected, and can I just say that condoms absolutely suck by comparison?

There’s something about Angie’s pussy that’s so tight, velvety, and irresistible, and the latex dampens it.

I like feeling her cunt wrapped around my dick as she pulses with ecstasy, her eyes closing and big breasts bobbling as she’s fucked within an inch of her life.

But at the moment, Angie looks perturbed. She’s clutching something as she comes to a halt a few feet away from my table. I pop a strawberry in my mouth and smirk.

“Come to visit at the altar of the big dick?”

My words are obviously obscene, but the curvy girl just rolls her eyes.

“No, Dom,” she says in a serious tone. “It’s something else.”

Then, she holds something out to me and I immediately recognize it. What the fuck? No!

“I’m pregnant,” Angie continues in a low voice. “You know that we haven’t been consistent about protection. Yes, we use condoms most of the time, but not all of the time, and one of those times, I got pregnant. You’re going to be a daddy.”

I let the words hang in the air, my silence ominous. What the fuck?

I rise slowly to my full height, towering over the petite woman.

“What did you say?” I ask in a menacing tone.

“I’m pregnant,” Angela responds, her voice calm and controlled. “You knew it could happen. You’re going to be a father, Dom.”

That’s when I lose it. I’m not proud, but I’ve always had a temper and years of therapy haven’t done much. Hell, my board even forced me to see a psychiatrist because they wanted me to “be a better leader and a better man.” But all the CBT sessions are out the window as I fly into a rage.

“What the fuck?” I bellow. “You’re pregnant ?”

To her credit, Angie doesn’t lose her cool.

“Yes. You knew it could happen. It can always happen, because there’s no contraceptive that’s 100% foolproof.”

Still, I’m shaking with fury because this woman is my fuckdoll! She’s a woman on my payroll who gets a paycheck from me every two weeks! Did she plan this? I turn to her, my face darkened with rage.

“You got pregnant on purpose, didn’t you?” I hiss.

Angie steps back then, the first flicker of fear showing in her eyes.

“ No ! How can you even say that?”

I shake my head, bitterness coursing through my veins.

“That’s what all women want. They want a guaranteed meal ticket for life, and this is how they get it. By turning themselves into broodmares,” I sneer. “Let me guess. You’re one hundred percent opposed to abortion.”

“Of course I would never terminate our baby!” she gasps, eyes wide. “How can you even think that?”

“Of course,” I parrot in a mocking tone. “Because this baby is your meal ticket for the next eighteen years.”

Angela’s shaking now, her blue eyes filled with horror, fear, and anger.

“How can you say such things to me?” she rages, her blonde hair crackling with electricity. “I didn’t plan this! I wasn’t trying to get your money—”

“That’s what they all say,” I drawl before sitting carelessly back down in my chair. “Fuck,” I say, cradling my head in my hands. “How could I have been so fucking dumb? Fuck, haven’t I learned my lesson?”

There’s silence for a moment, but then Angie speaks.

“We don’t want anything from you, Dominic,” she says in a trembling voice. “Trust me, your child and I will be fine on our own.”

I drop my hands and roll my eyes.

“Oh really,” I retort in a sarcastic tone.

“You’re a housekeeper. How are you going to find another job, especially if you’re showing?

Do you think someone’s going to hire you, when the first thing you do is to request maternity leave?

Get real, Angela. You’re not stupid, so don’t act like a fucking bimbo.

I’ll put you up in my home in Rome, okay?

” I state. “It’s a luxury apartment with a staff.

You can live there as you wait for the baby to be born. ”

“ Rome ?” Angie hisses. “There’s no way I’m going! In fact, I’m flying straight back to Austin now. Call your pilot! I want to go home!”

I shake my head while rolling my eyes again.

“You’ll be unemployed, without a roof over your head, without friends or family to help.

You’re a pregnant woman who will soon have a squalling infant on her hands.

Do you really want to live in a shelter with a big belly?

How would you make that work? Is there even enough food for three meals a day at a shelter?

I’ll call my pilot but it’s because you’re going to Rome,” I say in a frigid voice. “ I’m the one going back to Austin.”

Then, I get up and stalk back into the apartment, leaving Angela shaking, trembling, and in tears on the terrace.

A pang of regret strikes my heart but I ignore it because I’ve been the target of so many get-rich-quick-via-pregnancy schemes in the past that it’s fucking insane.

Hell, the first one happened when I was twenty-five and still starting out.

I wasn’t a billionaire yet, but I had enough to be comfortable when my girlfriend at the time told me she was expecting.

I was excited. I wasn’t ready to be a father, but then again, no one is ever truly ready for the job of being a parent.

Nonetheless, I was over the moon and began planning a future together.

The baby would be named Davey, after my dad, and he was going to have a nursery in my home.

His mother, Marcella, was also going to move in, and we were going to play happy family.

But disaster struck. A man contacted me out of the blue claiming to be Marcella’s babydaddy.

I couldn’t believe it. Marcella and I were dating, so where the fuck did this loser come from?

Besides, Marc was practically living at my house by then, and we were together almost 24/7.

When the fuck would she have time to cheat?

But it turns out that Marcella had a prison boyfriend.

Yes, it’s ludicrous, but true. Her ex was sent to Solana State Prison years before we met, and they kept in touch.

In fact, Marcella never broke up with the asshole formally, and would see him on occasion via California’s conjugal visit program.

What the fuck? I could hardly believe it, but I demanded a paternity test, and sure enough, the unborn baby belonged to another man.

Since then, I’ve had a couple of close calls. There are always women claiming to be pregnant, even when I use two forms of protection and stick to their assholes. They claim that the seed “slipped in” somehow, and “the baby was unplanned, but a blessing” and now, I owe child support.

But I’m no Elon Musk. I’m not planning to populate the universe, and I don’t want to support some bitch who’s trying to use my own flesh and blood against me.

As a result, I had a vasectomy done in my late twenties, and the procedure is permanent.

I’ll never be a dad, and there’s no way that Angela’s pregnant with my child.

There’s no way any of those women were ever pregnant with my spawn.

Of course, the curvy girl has no idea that she’s been had.

In fact, I don’t tell any of the ladies I sleep with that I’ve had a vasectomy because it’s my private business.

It’s also the trump card that I pull out of my back pocket whenever these situations arise .

.. and Angela’s going to suffer when the time is right.