The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(26)

Homer moved her when her boyfriend was done. Greg left the room, going to shower as he always did after sex. Homer lay down, and Dana went to suck him again, but he took her and pulled her atop him. She straddled him, rocking back and forth as he groped and pawed at her large breasts, her hard nipples pressing against his strong palms.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he came, and the second man that night let loose inside her. Afterwards, she climbed off of Homer’s wet cock and lay beside him. He kissed her, and then got up and dressed. He left, and Dana was fairly confident she wouldn’t see him again.





5



A month passed after the threesome, and then another, and Greg remained, and their sex life was healthy. But he never invited anyone else into their bed. The relationship grew stronger, and got more serious, and Greg had begun dropping hints that Dana should leave her small apartment and move in with him. For some reason, she refused.

A part of it was her job. She still had never spoken with the mysterious buyer, the rich man instead communicating through a lawyer. She still wondered if it was Greg, and one night she decided to take matters into her own hands. She lay in bed that night, and he f*cked her tits while she reached past him and used a vibrator herself. She came and then he did, spraying thick globs of semen across her neck and chin. He got up to shower, and asked her to join him, but she told him she wanted to take a bath afterward. He nodded and went to shower.

She got up as soon as she heard the water turn on down the hall, and found his cell phone still in the pocket of his pants, haphazardly strewn on the floor near the bottom of the bed. She strolled through texts but found nothing. And then she went through Greg’s contacts. It was there. The lawyer. There was the lawyer she had become so familiar with.

Dana wanted to confront Greg, but she had his splooge drying on her body, so she went and had a bath first. She stewed there, in the steamy water, and when she was done, she washed and dressed in a robe and stormed into Greg’s room.

“You have a lawyer’s number in your phone That’s the man who contacts me when Mr. White has something to say,” she said. Greg was lying on the bed, reading a book. He set it aside.

“I wanted to help you.”

Dana ground her teeth together. She had expected him to lie, and was glad he hadn’t, but she was still mad.

“I didn’t want that help from you,” she said.

“So what? Why does it matter? I have the money, I could help you.”

“You control me here. In bed. Not out there.”

“It’s not about control!” Greg said. “I just wanted to help.”

“If the business can’t make money, then it dies!”

“And then what would you do?” Greg asked.

“Start a new one! Get a new job! I don’t know, but I don’t want you sinking money into a failed cause for me. I don’t want to owe you,” Dana snapped.

“I’m just trying to help someone I care about. It’s not about owning you.”

“I don’t want your help, and I don’t want this,” Dana said, and she stormed out, still in the bathrobe.

Greg called her three times that night, and twice again the next day. And then, he stopped. The few things that she had left at his place came by way of UPS the next week. She didn’t hear from him, and Dana felt sad.

On a Monday, Dana was at the sex shop when the door opened, and a large man in a cheap suit came in.

“What can I help you with?” Dana asked.

“You must be Dana,” the fat man said. He was bald with a thin mustache that looked ridiculously out of place on his bulbous face.

“I am,” Dana said, unsure of who the man was.

“I bought this store, I was told about you,” the man said, and then he introduced himself as Michael Weathers.

“Oh,” Dana said, shaking his sweaty hand. She found herself surprised Greg had sold The Treasure Chest. She supposed that meant the relationship really was over.

“I’m afraid I’m going to change course,” the fat man went on. “This place is the perfect spot for a buffet. I’m a restaurant man you see. I did want to offer you a job, though.”

Dana respectfully declined, and that day was the last day in the shop. Michael stuck around, and on her way out, after waiting on a few customers, and taking her last paycheck, she stopped in the center aisle and took a black strap-on to the front, where the fat man stood waiting for the keys.

“Mind if I take this?” Dana asked. “For old times sake.”

Michale surely thought the request weird, his face showed that much, but he nodded and allowed it, and after she had handed him the key, Dana went through the door for the last time.

Within a few days, she had been hired at a small store which sold overpriced knick knacks to women stopping off of the highway, and life seemed as though it would get back to normal. That night, on her second day at the new store, though, Dana returned home to find Greg waiting for her in the parking lot.

“What do you want?” she asked, and the man couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you,” he said with a shrug as she stopped in front of him. They were standing next to his cherry red sports car.

“Don’t,” Dana said, holding a hand up.

“I wanted to tell you. I can’t stop thinking about you. The… duality you have, the… I’m just…”