Billionaire Baby Daddy

I heard the sound of Roxanne crying through the door and winced at the realization that I had just done that to her. Why did I always have to be such a giant ass to women? It was one of my special traits and I hated it. She had just been through a traumatic event and there I was, telling her to leave me alone.

Only a few short hours before, I had been thinking about how badly I wanted her body. I hated how I acted toward her. One minute I wanted her, and the next, I wanted to push her as far away as possible.

I knocked quietly on the door and then opened it.

“I’m sorry,” I said as I walked over toward Roxanne as she lay on the bed in tears.

“You know, I don’t care about you or your stupid dead girlfriend. My life is falling apart and I was almost killed tonight. I don’t need this shit.”

The fire in Roxanne’s eyes made me smile. Not because she was in pain, I certainly wouldn’t have smiled at anyone who was in genuine pain. I smiled because she looked so damn sexy as she screamed at me and passionately tried to hurt my feelings.

“I’m sorry,” I said again as I moved a little closer to her.

“Don’t look at me with those sexy blue eyes and tell me you’re sorry. It’s not going to work.”

“Oh, my eyes are sexy?” I snickered.

“Stop it. You know what I mean. You are all Superman sexy and I’m crying and now you’re telling me you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Superman sexy?” I smiled. “You think I look like Superman?”

“Oh my God. Stop putting words into my mouth. I get it. You’re sexy and you get all the women whenever you want them. But I’m not going to be one of those women. You probably have a different woman every week or something like that. Well, I’m not falling for it.”

I couldn’t hold it in another second, and I burst out laughing. If only Roxanne knew just how few women I had been within my lifetime. Sure, women came on to me and I flirted a lot when I was younger. But since losing Rose in Qatar, I had hardly looked at another woman until I met Roxanne. I certainly hadn’t been with anyone that lasted more than a short time. I just avoided them all together.

“I’m sorry,” I said for a third time as my laughter continued.

“Why are you laughing?” Roxanne screamed at me.

“Because I’m not a lady’s man. I haven’t had sex in several months.”

The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them, but when I saw the look on Roxanne’s face, I desperately wanted to take back everything I had said. Suddenly, she looked at me with confusion and bewilderment.

“How many months?” she questioned me.

“It’s probably closer to a year,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Holy shit. Why not?”

“I haven’t found someone I cared about.”

The words lingered in the air and I could tell Roxanne was processing them. I wasn’t the kind of guy who could just fuck a girl and move on. I liked being with women I had feelings for. I knew it wasn’t normal for many men, but to me, it was the only way I liked my women.

No, I didn’t need some sort of commitment or anything like that. But I wanted to know her, I wanted to like her both mentally and physically. I needed that mental connection to make it worth my while.

Roxanne looked at me and then sat up in the bed. Her tears were gone, and she moved closer to me. She gazed at me intently as I gazed back at her.

“Stay with me,” she whispered as her hands grabbed my face and she kissed me.

It was the first time we were both awake and not in a strip club. The moment was intense and I felt myself getting drawn into her and the passion she had. I liked Roxanne, I was perfectly happy with the idea of spending the evening with her in her bed, although it certainly wasn’t professional. I also liked that she had initiated the offer. She was a fragile woman and I didn’t want to push her farther than she was ready to go. But apparently, she was ready to go all the way. Roxanne was ready to take me to her bed and have me with her for the night.

Chapter Eight

ROXANNE

It wasn’t very often that a man actually surprised me. But the realization that Jackson wasn’t going around fucking all the women I was sure were throwing themselves at him, well, that shocked me. It was also incredible sexy. Hot guys were usually the biggest man whores I knew.

When a hot guy had a girl throwing herself at him, he usually just took the opportunity to let the girl have some fun. I had friends that would say they were doing the girl a favor because she would tell people she got to sleep with him. It made me sick. Guys just had a whole different idea about sex than most women did. But Jackson had just blown my theory out of the water.