His Dirty Demands (Dirty Billionaires 1)

“Oh my god, why do I have to say it first?”

“Okay, deep breath, you went up an octave there. It’s just usually it’s up to the woman to say it first. He might be worried that you haven’t said it yet. Remember the whole him having the power thing we talked about forever ago? Remember how he snatched up the chance to get you as long as he was in control?”

I bang my head against the counter. Why does she have to be right? Why does she have to sound like Bethany? “I don’t know. I can’t get away from the fear I say it and I say I want three kids and a dog and a house in the suburbs, and he goes no thanks.”

“So you’re content to just stew in your own misery rather than face what might happen?”

“I’m not stewing, it comes and goes. If it means I get to stay with Cesare longer, then I’ll deal with it.”

Lydia sighs. “Okay, it’s your liver, your choice.”

Hanging up, I lay my cheek down on the cool countertop. I could do it; I could be miserable for a few days, a week out of a month when the rest of the time I get to soak up being with Cesare. I can only marvel that almost nine months after I moved in, he still thinks I’m the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world, that he makes me gooey inside at the way he looks at me, that the sex is still amazing, like rock your entire world amazing.

Cesare is a workaholic no more, there was the week in Florence followed by a long weekend in Paris, and another long weekend in Charleston, and two weekends ago we went to Napa to get out of the freezing weather. He’s trying to talk me into going away for Christmas to somewhere warm and sunny. When he talked about it I immediately thought of Bethany. Now she’s saying she won’t have a long break, and I don’t know if it makes sense to go far. Just another something to stew about.

Cesare comes through the door, so I force down my fears, unwilling to let him see my worry.

***

Cesare

My home is filled with people. Laughter flows freely along with oohs and ahs over Amari, Ruthie’s daughter. I’m pretty sure Ruthie hasn’t held her daughter since she walked in. Almost immediately Lydia held her, then Bethany, and now Alicia is cuddling the small baby close. Her eyes closed, Alicia inhales the smell of the baby then sighs. Fuck. I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to the bedroom to give her the baby she obviously wants so badly.

Until this moment I never gave the idea of children much thought. With my plan to never marry, I believed I would never have children. It didn’t bother me. Being the big brother then raising my brothers hadn’t been easy. While I never changed diapers, I laid awake at night worried about them and their future. I also felt pride at their accomplishments, felt pain when they hurt; there was more to having children than cuddling a baby. I never felt some deep-seated need to procreate.

There were things Alicia said about how she raised Bethany, telling her marriage and children weren’t the be all and end all to complete a woman, that had led me to believe she didn’t want kids and wasn’t all that excited about marriage. I also wondered if after having spent her childhood and into her twenties responsible for one child, maybe she didn’t want to do it all over again. Now that I know my woman wants a baby, I want a half dozen little girls with big brown eyes and their mama’s smile. And whether she likes it or not, she’s not getting my baby unless my ring is on her finger.

The fears I had of marriage, of forever with one woma

n, a woman whom I could trust with everything I am, died in the fierce fire of us making love the very first night. I hadn’t even realized the fear was gone. At first I thought all the happiness I was feeling was because of finally having Alicia. Only the more I thought about it, I recognized there was no more fear, no more anger, no more resentment of the past left in my entire body.

In that moment I knew it was because of Alicia. I understood why my father’s love turned into obsession: when love wasn’t returned it made you hungrier for it, especially once the love was had, then gone. I’m not crazy enough to believe our love won’t shift and change over the coming years. I do know it won’t die. We’ll need to make sure to nurture it, make each other a priority over everything else. There will be times it won’t be easy, but I’ll do whatever it takes.

Looking around my home, I marvel at the changes Alicia has made in my life. This time last year, I believed wholeheartedly my life was exactly as I wanted it. Only now I’m able to see how empty it was. Even though I was lucky to have my brothers and enough money to buy anything I wanted, none of those things gave me what I needed. A woman who loved me, body and soul, who made my house a home, who wanted me for who I am, not what I could give her. I wonder if I can talk her into going to Vegas to get married.

I’m so caught up in my plans I don’t see Amari until Hannah has the baby pressed up against my chest. I have no choice but to hold the baby. Damn she’s small. She’s also a pretty baby, smiling and gurgling as if she was trying to talk. I run a finger over a downy soft cheek, and she grabs my finger, her grip tight. Heat washes over me, and I look up to meet Alicia’s eyes. I wonder how long it will take until everyone leaves.

***

Alicia

I roll over with a groan. Damn it, I had way too much wine last night. I’m embarrassed it was so much wine Cesare had to put me to bed. Burying my face in my pillow, I struggle to remember who was here when it happened. Then sigh with relief as I recall Hannah and Ruthie left early because they were both tired and the baby was fussy. They left with plenty of leftovers, then not long after Lydia also left, but only took pie for her breakfast.

I’m cranky as I find the note from Cesare telling me he needed to go into the office today to handle a few things and see a client, he’d be home as soon as he could. I stumble into the shower and turn on the hot water as high as I can take it.

Bethany is in the kitchen making bacon. “Morning, sunshine,” she calls as she waves with her spatula.

“Please don’t be chipper before I’ve had my coffee.”

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“Please don’t talk before I’ve had my coffee.”

She makes the motion of buttoning her lips. Don’t pick up a knife. Don’t pick up a knife. Ignore her and make the coffee. My birthday present from Claudine was an easy to use push-button coffee maker. I do like the pot espresso maker, but this is what I use when I don’t have the patience for the pot. I swallow some water as I wait for the coffee to finish.

I sit down with my coffee and bottle of water in front of the plate Bethany has made for me. After some coffee and food I’m beginning to feel human. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what’s with you making me breakfast?”

“I felt bad I didn’t really help you with making all that awesome food. Instead I slept the day away like a bum.”