The Billionaire’s Kitten

“Oh just into a broom closet, a linen closet, any private space they can find. And so Violet did that sometimes. She always had plastic bags on her and would do her upchucking in a spare room. But the thing is she left her bags there. She figured housekeeping would come and pick it up, but sometimes we got there before housekeeping did.”

“Oh my god!” gasped Kitty, a hand covering her mouth. “You guys would stumble upon bags of vomit all through your house?”

Rhonda nodded.

“Absolutely,” she said with a regretful smile. “It was disgusting and it smelled disgusting too. Because you know bulimics have stomach problems,” she said in a low whisper. “Their digestive systems are wrecked after years of this stuff.”

Here, I had to step in.

“Mom, stop,” I growled. “Stop talking about my exes, it’s our wedding brunch for crying out loud. Stop this shit,” I commanded.

Rhonda nodded, brushing it off.

“Oh I know,” she said airily. “I just wanted your new wife to know that she’s a dramatic improvement over the others. As long as you don’t go leaving bags of vomit around my house,” she threw at Kitty teasingly.

My wife smiled then.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t,” the brunette reassured Rhonda. But then her expression went serious. “But I do feel for those girls. It’s so terrible, they have real mental illnesses that are very serious. I hope they were able to get professional help.”

I looked at my new wife hard. Was she fucking serious? But the big brown eyes were grave, and emotion welled up from deep inside, chest going tight.

Because Kitty is a sweet girl who’d give you the clothes off her back, and that was happening right here, right now. She should have hated these women on sight, should have cackled merrily at their misfortune. But instead, Kitty just wanted the best for them. She understood that these were females whose minds were so fucked up that they couldn’t even put food in their gut. I was amazed and stared at the female appreciatively, hardly believing she was mine now. What did I do to deserve this?

“Gray? Gray, Gray, you alright?” clucked my mom. “Earth to Gray.”

I snapped back into focus, tearing my eyes from Kitty’s heavenly body.

“Sorry, just got distracted for a sec,” I grunted, turning back to my eggs. “Sorry, you were saying?”

But Rhonda smiled then.

“Oh I shouldn’t be here,” she cooed. “You were distracted by your beautiful bride, of course. This should be a romantic brunch for two, and instead I’m here, spoiling the moment.”

“Oh no!” Kitty exclaimed immediately. “That’s not it at all! We love having you with us, don’t we Gray?” she looked at me meaningfully.

I grunted. I’ve known my mom my whole life, and Rhonda’s got a way of getting her way with everyone. Unfortunately, my new wife wasn’t exempt.

“Right, we love having you,” I muttered under my breath.

And that was exactly what Rhonda wanted to hear. Because she smiled sweetly and dropped the bomb then.

“Oh good, because I hope you have dozens of children. You know, I always wanted you to have a sibling, Grayson, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I was forty when you were born, and it was already too late. But now, with this lovely young lady as your wife, you can have a basketball team and grandmamma will come around every day to see the children. You know how I love babies, Gray.”

My brows lowered. That’s true. Despite being a full-time businesswoman, my mom has always fawned over infants, the cooing giggles and chubby hands. Shit, even antics and pranks couldn’t turn her off, she loves little tykes.

But that’s the thing. Kitty and I were supposed to be getting divorced, not starting a family. So my new wife raised confused eyes to me, unsure what to say, lips trembling. I leapt in smoothly, unperturbed.

“We’re not having kids just yet,” I ground out. “Kitty’s eighteen and in school still, she wants to finish her degree.”

The words were probably a fucking lie because truth is, we’d never even talked about it. Did she want to finish school? Did she want to continue working at the Milano? I had no fucking clue, I was so busy pounding that sweet pussy, letting her vaginal walls milk my dick non-stop.

Besides, there was still the issue of birth control. Despite my promise to use condoms, have I done it? Have I followed through? Fuck no, I’ve plowed that pretty pussy dozens of times since, bareback and virile, spurting my seed again and again. Nor has Kitty gone on birth control. She was supposed to go to the campus health center to get on the pill, but I’ve kept her so busy with the non-stop fucking that she doesn’t have time. The girl just goes straight to school and back, my driver waiting expectantly at the curb. So unless you can magic a pill out of thin air, I couldn’t see how Kitty was safe.