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Billionaire Daddy and Nanny 2(36)

By:Mia Ford




“How?” My voice was barely above a whisper.



Jackson leaned close to my ear. “I’ll give Anne three million dollars, and a monthly allowance.”

I stared at him. “Jackson, that’s more than I’m asking for,” I said slowly. “Why are you going to give her so much money?”



Jackson’s lips curled into a smile. “Because you’re going to give me your virginity.”



I gaped at him. My mouth was hanging open for so long I felt the delicate tissue lining my tongue start to dry out from the cold air.

“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked. “Cat got your tongue?”



I closed my lips and swallowed hard. My throat felt tight and dry, and for a terrible moment, I was afraid I was going to throw up the half mimosa I’d drank back at Le Bateau Ivre.



“I can’t date you,” I hissed after a prolonged pause. “I’m your stepsister!”



Jackson threw his head back and laughed. I saw the sun glinting off his perfect white teeth.

“I don’t want to date you,” Jackson said, shaking his head. He was still chuckling. I felt my hands ball themselves into fists. “Of course I don’t want to date you, Belle. I just want to fuck you,” he added.



I glared at him. “I hate you.”



Jackson smirked. “That’s not what I thought a few minutes ago.” He tapped his chin with his finger and looked thoughtful. “You were moaning in my arms,” he said. “That didn’t exactly seem like the reaction of someone who hates me as much as you claim to.”



The sound of the slap across Jackson’s face echoed off the alley walls as I turned on my heel and ran away. This time, he didn’t try chasing me. The only sound I heard was the ringing sound of his laughter, bubbling around me.



It wasn’t like his cruel laughter before. It was a different kind of laughter, an amused kind of laughter.



As I climbed into the backseat of a cab and gave the driver my address, I slunk down in the back seat and vowed to never speak to Jackson Rhodes ever again.



When I got back to school the next day, I didn’t know what to do. I hated the idea of giving my cherry to Jackson, the man who’d made my life hell for as long as I could remember. Sure, he’d been a good kisser….in fact, thinking about the way he’d kissed me sent shivers of desire between my legs. But I knew I couldn’t go through with it. It was just like prostitution, except worse. And what would it get me?



It would let you help your mother, a little voice sang in the back of my head. And that’s what you really need to do, isn’t it?



I dreaded talking to Mom. I spent the evening with Alexa, pretending like Jackson didn’t exist. We made popcorn and watched all of our favorite girly movies…it should have been enough to make me forget all about Jackson.



But it didn’t.



When the phone rang, I felt horrified and scared.



“Hello?”



“Belle, honey,” Mom said on the other end. “I was starting to think I wouldn’t ever hear from you.”



I sighed. “I’m okay, Mom,” I said softly.

There was a pause.

“Belle, I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re the best daughter in the world for helping me out like this,” Mom said softly. “I appreciate you and love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky – lucky enough to have a daughter who would do anything for me.”



My heart sank.



“Um, well— “



“No buts, Belle,” Mom said. “I want you to know how much I love you for doing this. I know I never should have had to ask you – I never should’ve had to put you in the position of helping me like this. But you did, and I’m so grateful. I promise that nothing will ever be this bad ever again, honey.”



“Mom, that’s just it. I didn’t— “



“Belle, enough,” Mom said. “I want you to take credit for what you did – you did a great job, and you helped me out so much. I love you, honey. I’m so proud of you.”



I sighed. “Thanks, Mom,” I said in a thin voice. “I just wanted to help.”



When we hung up, I felt worse than ever. I knew I couldn’t go back to relaxing with Alexa and watching my favorite movies. It wouldn’t matter – nothing had mattered now that I hadn’t been able to stand up for myself and tell Mom the truth.



With a heavy heart, I dialled Jackson’s number from the business card he’d given me back in the city.



“Hello?”



“Is this Jackson?”



“Belle? Is that you?”