Pregnant By My Boss: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance Compilation Page 12

  My breath catches in my throat as her eyes fix on me. I can tell she doesn’t know how to respond to me being here. Walking closer, the distance between us disappears.

  “Jax?”

  My name sounds like a question. I nod.

  “You’re—what are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you,” I tell her, pushing her hair back from her shoulder and cupping her cheek.

  She leans into my touch and closes her eyes. But she suddenly backs away from me and swallows.

  “Did someone die?” she asks, looking me over.

  A confused expression takes over my face, and Jenna pulls at the tie around my neck. I chuckle and shake my head at her. She has never seen me in a suit before.

  “I flew in right from work,” I explain.

  “So, where are you living?”

  “New York.”

  I’m a little surprised that she doesn’t know where I’m located. I’m not a celebrity, but Morrison has become a well-known name in business. Then again, why would she pay attention to business news? It’s easy to stay in a small town bubble in Bourne. Still, it hurts knowing she hasn’t tried looking me up.

  “Wow, a city boy now.”

  Her lips curl into a smile but then drop into a straight line in an instant.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding bitter.

  “I wanted to see you. I know it’s been a while, but I wanted to settle some things between us.”

  The little boy is making airplane noises in the background as Jenna looks back at him. She pushes her hair behind her ears and folds her arms across her chest. She unfolds them a few seconds later and shifts her weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.

  “Um, yeah… it has been a while. How about I meet you for coffee?”

  “Jen, why are you making this awkward?”

  “I’m just trying to process everything, Jax. It’s been seven years,” she grumbles. “You left, remember?”

  “Oh, so you blame me for what happened between us, huh?”

  My fists clench and unclench. It’s easier to be angry than to show how hurt I am. Jenna stammers.

  “I don’t know who I blame anymore.” She runs her fingers through her hair.

  “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”

  She puts her hand over her mouth and lets out a strangled sob.

  “Mama! Come play!”

  The little boy, who I had assumed was Jenna’s student, had just called her Mama! My eyes widen as I look from Jenna to the boy. Jenna loses all color in her face as she tears up.

  “I wanted to tell you,” she begins.

  “You’re married?”

  “No,” she says, like that’s a ridiculous question.

  “Where’s his father?”

  I worry that I have more than just her parents to battle now. Jenna doesn’t answer my question as she looks back at the house and then down at her feet. I haven’t seen her look this nervous before. I take ahold of her hands, which are shaking uncontrollably.

  “Jen, just talk to me. What’s going on?”

  Jenna’s lips quiver as she speaks.

  “His father is standing right in front of me.”

  I drop her hands in shock and take a step away from her.

  “W-what?”

  “You’re his father, Jax. I wanted to tell you. My father took my phone, and you left town. I had no way to get in touch with you,” she cried. “I thought—I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

  It’s all too much to process. I want to spit out everything I have felt for the past seven years, but I can’t speak. I am overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions—anger and love being the two most prominent.

  “All this time, you’ve been raising MY son without me?”

  Jenna cringes at my tone.

  “I’ve missed out on seven years, Jenna!”

  “Jax,” she pleads. “I swear, I wanted to let you know. I wanted to be with you, but…”

  She becomes hysterical as I get angrier.

  “How could you think I didn’t want you?”

  I’m still yelling when our kid looks over at me, concern written on his small face. I make eye contact with him, and my chest tightens.

  “How could you think I wouldn’t want to raise our son together?” I ask in a softer tone.

  Jenna wipes her face with the back of her hand as she tries to speak.

  “My father…”

  “He thinks he can keep my kid away from me?!” I yell.

  The boy—my son—walks over and takes Jenna’s hand protectively. My heart all but melts. I can tell he looks after his mother just as I would have.

  “Mama, who’s that?”

  He looks up at me. Oh my God, he has my eyes! His smile is all Jenna’s, but those are my eyes!

  “Cory, this is your daddy,” Jenna can barely say as her voice trembles.

  “I have a daddy?” he asks, looking up at Jenna with a big smile.

  She nods, holding back more tears. Cory releases her hand and runs to me. Scooping him into my arms, I give him the biggest hug. My heart is no longer mine; my son has stolen it.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Daddy.”

  I squeeze him tighter, looking over at Jenna, who is crying her eyes out. A few tears come to my eyes as well.

  I’m a Daddy. Overwhelmed with pride and love, a new urgency to protect Jenna and our son from anything—or anyone—that might hurt them comes over me. I must get them away from Martin Jones’ evil clutches. They are my family, and no one is going to keep them from me.

  Chapter Seven

  Jenna

  I can’t believe Jax is standing in front of me, holding our son with tears in his eyes. I have dreamed of this moment—prayed for it—and now I’m afraid it will all be taken away from me again. Jax’s visit to Bourne might be nothing more than nostalgia, and not because he still has feelings for me.

  I’m sure he wasn’t expecting to meet a son he didn’t know existed. Jax’s face is full of mixed emotions, and I can’t blame him for being angry, hurt, and confused by all of this.

  I had never planned to keep Cory from Jax, but my father didn’t give me choices in any part of my life.

  “You live in New York City?” Cory asks.

  “That’s right, I do,” Jax smiles at him.

  His ease with Cory makes my heart swell. I can see their instant connection.

  “Mama taught me that’s where the Statue of Liberty is.”

  “Do you want to see it?” Jax asks.

  Cory’s eyes light up.

  “Yeah!”

  “Well, start packing, buddy,” Jax says, placing Cory down.

  “Jax, we can’t…”

  “Aw, come on, Mama,” Cory whines.

  “Go inside and get a snack while I talk to your dad, okay?”

  Cory groans but runs back toward the house.

  “He’s a sweet kid. You did a good job with him, Jen,” Jax says.

  I miss hearing my name on his lips. Trying not to melt into those lips when there is so much more to be said is the hard part.

  “You can’t just come here and take him, Jax,” I sigh.

  “Why not? He’s my son.”

  I swallow. “This is the only home Cory knows.”

  If we leave, I am terrified that my father will hunt us down. He still has control over me. I hate that his money and his political connections wipe out my own free will.

  Jax puts his hands on my hips and pulls me into him. He feels the fear throughout my body.

  “I can take care of him. I can take care of both of you,” he says.

  Jax is confused by my hesitance. His voice sounds hurt that I would question his ability to care for his son and me. I stare at his gorgeous face before trailing my eyes down his body. He sure wears the hell out of a suit. His shoulders look broader than I remember them being.

  I want to fall into his arms and never let go. This is what I had hoped for—that Jax would find a way back
to me someday. Now, that day has arrived, and I’m too afraid of the consequences to act.

  I stare back into those deep blue eyes, thinking about our love and about Cory’s future. What kind of life will he have in Bourne if we stay? What kind of restrictions will my father put on my son like he’s done to me?

  As if trying to convince me, Jax pulls me closer. Our chests mash against each other as we kiss. His lips press against mine, and his tongue demands entry. I am weak as my mouth opens for him. His hands move around to my ass, and he squeezes.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  The question takes me by surprise as I look up at him.

  “Why would I be afraid of you?”

  “You’re shaking,” he states, rubbing my arms.

  He doesn’t know that my fear has nothing to do with him and everything to do with my father.

  “You’re coming with me. This has always been my plan—our plan. I won’t watch from a distance while my son grows up. Your father can’t keep me from him. Or from you.”

  Jax takes my hand and pulls me toward the house, not giving me a chance to argue. His grip is firm as he boldly heads into the house he was banned from—the same one I’ve been restricted to.

  We walk inside through the kitchen and into the hallway. Ulrich, our butler, sees us.

  “Miss Jones, your father strictly said that there are to be no visitors while he is away.”

  “Did he also say no lights?” Jax asks, looking around at our dark mansion.

  “Cory is the only thing that lights this place up,” I say meekly.

  Jax looks at me, but I quickly head upstairs, not wanting to linger.

  “Mama, I’m all packed!”

  Cory is standing in the hallway with a backpack full of model airplanes. I can’t help but laugh, and Jax does too.

  “I can buy whatever clothes either of you need. Just pack the essentials,” Jax says, brushing away any remaining tears from my eyes.

  I sniffle and nod, heading toward my bedroom. Jax and Cory talk about airplanes as I pack. I look around the place. The curtains are drawn closed, the windows are locked, and the lightbulbs have been removed.

  I take a deep breath. My father may have power, but allowing Jax to know his son is worth the risk of him abusing that power. I believe Jax when he says that he can take care of us.

  I make sure to pack the few baby photos of Cory I had managed to print when my father was away from home, along with some clothes, into a duffle bag.

  “You’re leaving?”

  Bianca is standing in the doorway. Her face is covered in concern and regret.

  “I’ve stayed too long, don’t you think?”

  “I won’t stop you, Jenna. You and that little boy deserve to be happy.”

  I nod. “Thank you for being my friend and for sneaking us out to the lake today.”

  Bianca hugs me, and I see Jax over her shoulder. He is looking around the house, and I know he is putting the pieces together. This house is nothing more than a prison for our son and me.

  Part of me wishes this old plantation house would burn to the ground so that I would never have to see it again. The history of this place is filled with lies, deceit, and abuse. From the slave owners who had originally owned it down to Martin Jones, nothing decent has ever come from this land.

  Except for Cory.

  Instant joy fills my chest upon realizing that Cory won’t be stuck here. Even if Jax is dirt poor, Cory will have a good life with him as a father.

  Jax is finally here. But why now? Why had he left without me? Where has he been the last seven years?

  Chapter Eight

  Jax

  The longer I’m in the Jones’ estate, the angrier I become. It is clear to me that Jenna’s reluctance isn’t because she doesn’t want to leave her parents’ home—it’s that she’s afraid to leave.

  I grab the duffle bag from Jenna’s shoulder before we make our way down the stairs toward the front door. My jaw is tight, and I try to hold in my rage, especially in front of Cory. Martin Jones thinks he can keep Jenna and our son hidden from the world. Hidden from me.

  “Daddy?”

  I look down at Cory and take his bag of toys from him. Immediately, the rage subsides when I look into my son’s eyes. I just met him, and he already has my heart.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you like airplanes?”

  “I love them,” I say as I wink at him.

  Cory smiles widely and takes my hand in his. I look at Jenna. Tears are rolling down her cheeks as she takes my other hand. We approach the front door as a family.

  The butler, who’d had the nerve to tell me Jenna Jones didn’t exist, stands in our way. His glare is cold and emotionless as security guards flank his sides.

  “Sir, Miss Jones is not allowed to leave the property without proper protection.”

  “She has proper protection,” I say, squeezing Jenna’s hand in mine.

  “Sir—”

  “Ulrich, let us go,” Jenna speaks, her voice hoarse. “Please.”

  I understand these people are doing their job, so I pull out my wallet. I hand Ulrich a five-hundred dollar bill and my business card.

  “If Mr. Jones has an issue, he can take it up with me himself.”

  We walk out the front door with no more trouble from the staff.

  “I’ll pull the car up.”

  Jenna grabs onto my hand tighter.

  “No, I don’t want to take any chances,” she says.

  I nod and lead the way down the dirt road. Cory speaks nonstop during the short walk.

  “Do you like frogs? I bet we are a lot alike!”

  I smile at him.

  “Maybe when we get to New York, we can get you a pet frog.”

  Cory gasps, “Really?”

  I pop the trunk and throw their stuff inside. From the passenger side door, Jenna tells Cory to buckle his seatbelt.

  Walking around the car toward Jenna, I can see her skin is pale and her eyes are swollen red. As I wrap my arms around her body, her breathing grows deeper. She clutches my suit jacket and cries. Allowing her to cry for a few minutes, I hold her firmly. I never want to let her go again.

  I drive just out of town to a hotel where I book the penthouse suite. Cory hogs my attention for the next few hours with no complaints from me. He wants to know everything about me and vice-versa.

  Jenna sits quietly, listening to Cory and me talk. My eyes keep meeting hers. I’m torn between my son and her. I’ve lost seven years with both of them. There is so much that Jenna and I have to discuss, but I can’t help but want to ravage her the longer we’re in the same room together.

  She looks so goddamn sexy as she leans her head onto her fist. She isn’t wearing make-up, and my eyes keep drifting to the knot of her bathing suit sticking out of her shirt. One tug and her breasts would be free. Then I could probably see her hard nipples through the thin white t-shirt she’s wearing. I lick my lips every time I think about her tits.

  Her shorts ride up as she makes herself comfortable on the couch, exposing her juicy thighs. I swear. Jenna catches me looking, and she adjusts herself, pulling the shorts down self-consciously.

  “Cory, I think it’s time for bed,” she announces.

  “Aw, Mama…”

  “We’ll have plenty of time together from now on, buddy,” I vow as I mess his hair.

  Jenna helps get him ready for bed, and we both tuck him in.

  “Do you want a drink?” I ask, stepping into the kitchen area.

  “Sure.”

  She leans against the bar top, pushing her tits up and together. I don’t think she realizes how inviting they look as I hand her a glass of bourbon.

  “You can take the boy out of the country…” she smiles, taking a sip.

  “What did you think I drink now?”

  She shrugs. “Dom Perignon?”

  I laugh, taking a sip. She does the same as silence fills the suite for an awkward moment.

  “Let�
��s sit on the couch,” I offer before we move into the living room area.

  This time, I snatch up the opportunity to make physical contact with Jenna. Sitting as close to her as possible, I set my drink down on the coffee table and turn my body toward hers, causing our legs to rub together. I miss her soft skin and yearn to touch her without the barrier of my pants.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says, “…about Cory. My father wanted me to get an abortion. He didn’t want any part of you inside his house—inside me.”

  “Yeah, he made that clear to me. He told me you didn’t want me,” I confess.

  “You believed him?”

  She sounds hurt as she recoils back from me a little.

  “I thought I’d hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?”

  “That night—when we made love. When you looked afraid of me today, I thought—”

  “Jax, I’m not afraid of you,” she says, placing her hand on my knee. “I am afraid of what my father will do to you.”

  “I’m not afraid of him, Jen. I have just as much power as him and more money. He can’t control you anymore.”

  She lets out a shaky breath. I can tell she is holding back something. I move even closer to her. My knee nudges under her thigh. The physical contact is comforting, but not enough. I want her on top of me. I need to hold her. Love her. Protect her.

  “What did he do to you?”

  She looks down, and I pull her chin up so that her eyes meet mine.

  “Tell me,” I clench my teeth as I insist.

  “That night, he caught me sneaking in,” she says as a tear rolls down her cheek. “He beat me up so badly that I passed out.”

  Red hot anger boils through my veins. He had beaten her up?! I knew Martin Jones was a pompous asshole, but how can anyone beat up their own daughter?

  “What?!”

  If Jenna hadn’t been holding me down with the light touch of her palm on my thigh, I would have leapt out of the hotel and tried to hunt down Martin.

  “I heard you arguing with my father when I woke up, but he had broken my ribs. I wanted to get to you, but I passed out again. By the time I healed, you were gone and I was stuck there. Daddy told me he gave you money and you took it and ran.”