Mr. President:A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiance Romance(107)

This is a different kind of happiness. A fucking baby?

I mean … a baby?

Can you fucking imagine it? I'll tell you something, with Destiny's  genes and my DNA, it's going to be one badass baby. Smart, beautiful and  brave. My child.

"I was afraid of what your reaction would be," she confesses, her weak  smile turning into a genuine one. There's a glint in her eyes, and I  realize that my reaction was everything she needed.

I realize something.

"Yes I still fucking love you, Destiny Renee," I tell her.

She smiles.

"Good," she says. "Because I fucking love you too. And I'm glad you're not upset."

"Are you crazy? I'm so fucking happy, babe," I say as I hug her once  more, and then kiss her on the lips. "Now I know why you want to leave."  Now that we're going to have a child, everything changes. I'm not just  fucking around with my life, or even with Destiny's; there's a whole new  life to consider.

"Yeah …  I'm just a bit afraid, that's all," she whispers, instinctively  placing one hand over her belly, as if she's trying to protect our kid  from the whole mess of the world we're in.

"Okay, okay. Let me think," I take one deep breath, trying to rearrange  the thoughts inside my head. This changes everything. But one thing is  obvious: I can't go forward with the plan I came up with. I can't put  Destiny in danger. "You're leaving then, Destiny. I'll arrange a place  for both of us …  Somewhere warm where you can rest and enjoy yourself.  California? What about Europe?" She cuts me short by placing her index  finger over my moving lips.

"Austin …  You said ‘you're leaving'. I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Babe …  It's just for a while. I have to face Lester." There's no way  around it. Sure, I'm going to be a father now, but a lot of women depend  on me. What kind of example would I set for my child if I just walked  out on hundreds of women who are victims of sex trafficking? And leave  Lester to prosper? He'd give free reign to all the human traffickers in  the city, make New York a hub for the worst scum that's ever walked the  Earth. I can't walk out on this. Even if it costs me everything-all my  money, even my life, I have to do my best to finish off that fucking  bastard.         

     



 

"When I'm done with all this I'll go and join you …  Or you can come back  to New York. Whichever you prefer, babe," I continue, but she's not  buying it.

"No, Austin, stop it. That's not happening." She's laying the law down  and I know it. Her decision has been made, and she won't change her  mind. Fuck, I really don't feel comfortable with her staying in New  York. "I get it why you want to stay …  And you're right, we can't turn  our backs to this. Strokes doesn't have a chance without us." She takes a  deep breath, mentally preparing for her next words. "What's your plan?"  She asks me.

"No, I don't want you involved in this any more than you are right now," is my only answer.

"The plan, Austin. Tell me." Do I have the right to make decisions for her? She's as tough as I am.

With a resigned sigh, I start explaining what's on my mind. She sits  there quietly, just taking in my words and nodding slightly.

"That's it," she says afterwards. "We're doing it."

"Babe, I don't feel comfortable about it …  Not anymore, now that I know you're pregnant."

"We're doing it," she whispers, her lips a straight line, and that's it.  We're doing it. "It's going to work, Austin. I know it will," she says  in a soothing tone, placing one hand on my face and laying a tender kiss  on my lips.

It's going to work.

I know it will.

I mean, it has to work.

Or we're all fucked.





83





Destiny





Here we go, I think as I raise my closed fist to knock at the door right  in front of me. I drop my hand against it three times in quick  succession and then I wait, my heart beating anxiously inside of my  chest. I hear footsteps inside of the house, and then a man inside  roars, "Who's there?"

"Guess," I respond in a calm and poised voice, and the door swings open  as if someone yanked on the doorknob from the other side. Lester is  standing in the doorway, barefoot and wearing jeans and a plaid shirt.  "Hi there, handsome," I purr with a smile, and walk past him and inside  his house. I smile inwardly at the look of confusion on his face, but  then I hear the door slam shut and I remember what's at stake here.

"Destiny," he simply says, his lips a straight line.

"Oh, you remember me," I tease him, walking straight into his living  room and sit down on the couch where he was just watching a game.  There's an open beer sitting on the coffee table, and the Giants are  preparing their next play on the flat-screen TV. I lean back against his  couch, crossing my legs and allowing the hemline of my tight dress to  climb up and reveal more of my legs. At the same time, I take my jacket  off, revealing the low cut of my dress, Lester's eyes darting straight  to my cleavage. "Lovely place you have here."

"Don't fuck with me, Destiny," he hisses, walking around the couch and  staring me down. "What are you doing here?" I sigh and look down at my  hands, trying to organize the right words into a coherent sentence.  Then, I look up at him and let my smile fade away.

"I'm sorry, Lester," I start, putting on an expression of commiseration. "I was an idiot."

"What are you talking about?" he asks me, a confused frown on his face.

"I …  I let myself be fooled by Austin," I stammer, pursing my lips and  trying to look like a damsel in distress. "He sweet talked me and he …  I  was a fool, Lester. All these months I had the perfect man right in  front of me, but I guess I never realized it before," I continue, my  heart galloping inside my chest. This has to work, I pray to myself,  this has to work.

Slowly, Lester walks up to me and sits by my side, placing one hand  right on my knee. "You came to your senses, then?" he asks me, that  awful grin dancing on his lips. After what he did to me-and after I  discovered who he really is-I can't help but feel disgust every time I  glance at him. He shouldn't even be in jail, he should be hanged. You  think that's harsh of me? Well, just remember who he really is; Lester,  someone who profits from human fucking trafficking. From selling women.  Scum of the Earth.

"I did come to my senses, yes," I tell him, running my tongue between my  lips and looking into his eyes. I place my hand on top of his and  squeeze it lightly. "I don't even care about the club anymore, Lester …  I  don't know, when I realized what you can do, the power you hold …  I want  someone like that in my life. A real man, a powerful man …  Someone like  you," I whisper, lowering my voice as I stroke his ego.

He grins at me, his hand slowly moving up from my knee to my leg. I got  him, I think as I take in the delighted expression on his face. Since  the first time I saw Lester, I knew he had a thing for me. Call it lust,  passion or even a twisted sense of love, but I knew he wanted me. He  wanted me bad, and still does. It drove him mad that, even though he got  to fuck me, I never gave him more than that. He knew that I just  tolerated him, and that made him seethe with rage; he isn't a man  accustomed to not getting what he wants. But now here I am, sitting on  his couch, telling him everything that he ever wanted to hear, calling  him a powerful and real man.

I uncross my legs and part them slightly, and Lester starts to breath  harder, lust taking over him. From the corner of my eyes, I see a hard  shape straining against his jeans, his cock stiffening as he slides his  hand under my dress. I put one hand on his shoulder, and then lean my  head against it; I place my other hand on his chest, gently massaging  him.

"I've been dreaming of this for days," I purr into his ear, and I can feel his whole body relaxing.

"Then why didn't you come here before?" he asks dryly, but still keeping his hand on my leg.

"I was afraid you'd be mad …  I was afraid you wouldn't want me," I  whisper, grabbing his free hand and taking it to my right breast. He  lays it there and curls his fingers, squeezing my flesh softly.

"I want you, you know I do," he tells me, his words fraught with lustful tension.

"That's all I needed to hear," I smile, my hand still on top of his. I  press down, making him squeeze my breast harder. He does it willingly,  now breathing so hard that I wouldn't be surprised if he just came in  his jeans. Moving slowly, my movements patient and deliberate, I reach  for the straps of my dress on my shoulders and push one down, making it  droop over my arm. He reaches for the other strap and pulls it down, the  fabric of the dress falling over my chest and revealing the outer edges  of my black lace bra. His eyes dart right to it, and he squeezes even  harder on my breast.