Chapter 4 #2
“Yes,” Jordan acknowledges in a deep tone.
“But also to raise the profile of Skyview as needed. When you manage billions of dollars, you need staff in all areas, and it can’t be amateur hour either.
We need professionals in all departments of our corporation, and I’m sure we can find a slot for you, whether in PR, Communications, or Investor Relations.
Again, we employ thousands of people all over the world, and take our business seriously. ”
I nod, my heart beginning to thrum.
“I’m excited, Mr. Lewis,” I say. “I can get you my resume immediately. Right now, in fact,” I say, looking about for my phone.
“Thank you so much, and of course, I’m open to IVF.
My understanding is that IVF takes a while, and it’s a drawn-out process because the woman has to go on hormones first to stimulate egg production, then they need to retrieve the eggs, and mix it with the donated sperm before re-implanting, but it’s fine.
I’m young and I can do it. If you could just help me land a job with Skyview, I’m happy to be of service.
In fact, if there’s a particular fertility doctor you’d like me to contact—”
But the alpha male cuts me off again.
“We won’t need a fertility doctor,” Jordan drawls, those blue eyes glinting once more. “We won’t need IVF even.”
I stare at the alpha male, confused.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a slow tone.
“If not IVF, then how? Oh, do you mean intrauterine insemination?” I ask, nodding quickly.
“Yes, that’s much faster from what I hear.
The man ejaculates into a cup, and then we get a huge turkey baster and inseminate me with the fresh sperm, right?
Yes, that could work too, although should we get a doctor to do the basting?
” I ask, going red in the face. “It sounds vaguely medical to me.”
Oh my god, this is so embarrassing! How can I be talking like this with my fiancé’s dad when said fiancé just died? But if anything, it’s Mr. Lewis who’s pushing the issue. He’s the one who seems dead-set on continuing his line with his talk of “lineage,” “duty,” and “pure bloodlines.”
But never underestimate a billionaire because Mr. Lewis is canny. Obviously, he didn’t get to where he is by being a dunce, and the alpha male shakes his head again, blue eyes blazing despite his outward expression of calm.
“No, that sounds awkward, not to mention ridiculous,” he replies. “Turkey basters are for cooking, not science.”
My cheeks flame with heat.
“Well, it works, or so I’ve heard,” I say quickly.
“I mean, lesbian couples do it all the time with donated sperm, and you save a lot of money this way. But really, it’s fine if you want to try some other method.
I’m all ears. You’ll just have to be specific because I’m not well-versed in the latest fertility treatments. ”
Jordan Lewis pauses for a moment, his color high. But then he speaks in a casual tone.
“We’re going to get you pregnant the regular way. The normal way. I’ll ejaculate in your pussy, and that sperm will swim up to your cervix and merge with an egg. Then, you’ll have a baby and the Lewis line will continue.”
I stare at him.
“Wait, what?” I ask in a low voice. “Are you for real?”
Mr. Lewis looks unperturbed.
“I am,” he says in a smooth tone. “I want a baby the regular way. You’re young and fertile, and I’m virile, so it’s efficient.
If we do it like this, I’m sure we can get it done before your two years here are up.
In fact, if you conceive a child within the requisite time, I’ll make sure that your job at Skyview continues even after your OPT expires.
We’ll sponsor you for an H-1B, or whatever visa you need to stay in the United States. ”
I stare at the alpha male, my face flushing.
“Wait a minute. You mean that if I don’t conceive within two years, you’d just let the OPT expire? Like I’d have to leave despite going through countless fertility treatments?”
Jordan shrugs his broad shoulders, looking unconcerned.
“Yes,” he states. “Absolutely.”
“What?” I sputter. “But that’s not fair! I would go to the doctor’s office every week, inject myself with hormones, and subject myself to countless medical procedures during this process! But if I don’t conceive a baby, then I’m shit out of luck?”
“Yes,” the billionaire states again, his expression nonchalant. “But you don’t have to do any of that because it’s unnecessary. Like I said, we’ll conceive the regular way. How normal people do it. My dick in your pussy so that you get a pussy full of virile sperm. I think it’ll work out.”
I sputter.
“No, absolutely not!” I hiss, filled with shock and rage. “Oh my god, how can you even say that? I was having sex with your dead son not so long ago! And now you want to hook up with me? It’s sick and twisted!”
Of course, these words are a lie because Harry and I never slept together.
Again, my fake fiancé grew nauseous whenever he thought about hetero intimacy, so we never touched, other than pecks on the cheek and big bear hugs.
In fact, I’ve never been with a man before, period, so I’m inexperienced.
But Mr. Lewis doesn’t have to know. Yet he doesn’t look disturbed at all.
“I think you’ll like being with me, Juliette,” he rumbles.
“In fact, I’ll make sure it’s good for you.
Or you can just close your eyes like a prudish virgin, and suffer through the act, but that doesn’t seem very French of you.
I thought French girls were saucy and coquettish, and enjoy spreading their legs. ”
“Oh my god, that’s so insulting!” I grit through clenched teeth. “You just insulted all the women of France by implying that we’re sluts!”
Jordan Lewis holds his big hands up, although his expression is anything but apologetic.
“My apologies,” he rumbles. “That’s not what I meant at all.
All I’m saying is that you’re in a bind, my sweet.
You have no way to stay in the United States without my help.
My son is dead. You have no job, and no way to get a work visa within sixty days.
I hold all the cards, and unfortunately, I’m a man who drives a hard bargain.
Either we set about conceiving my child the regular way, or bye-bye-bye,” he says, waggling his fingers at me. “Good luck, senorita.”
“Senorita is Spanish!” I grit out again. “It’s mademoiselle in French!”
Jordan smirks, so handsome that I wish I could kiss him and slap him at once.
“A thousand apologies,” he says in a light tone.
“As you observed, I’m delirious from my son’s recent passing, and unable to think straight.
But I assure you, Juliette, that I’ve assessed the situation correctly.
You do as I say, or again – bye, bye, bye.
Mademoiselle,” he adds with a smirk on those mobile lips.
Then, Jordan turns and stalks out of the room, his broad form disappearing.
Meanwhile, I’m left breathless and gasping in my hospital bed.
What in the world just happened? Did my dead fiancé’s dad just proposition me, with the intention of breeding an heir?
Is “breeding” even what you call it these days?
It’s certainly not love, nor even like because I find the man brutish, insulting, and absolutely detestable.
Yet in my heart of hearts, I know I’m attracted to him too because Jordan Lewis is everything that his son wasn’t.
Jordan’s dominant. He’s enthralling, passionate, and fearless.
He’s an alpha male who knows what he wants, and isn’t afraid to reach for it either.
Just look at what he did two minutes ago!
He doesn’t care what society, or the world at large, thinks of him.
The man wants a baby, and he’s willing to use my womb to get his heir.
But where does that leave me? Do I have any choice in this sordid conundrum?
I suppose I could return to Paris with my tail between my legs and forget my American adventure.
I suppose I could try and forget everything that’s happened in these last four years, and slowly let my English become rusty and unused.
But the truth is that I don’t want to. I’ve fallen in love with the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes, and I adore the blue skies and purple mountain majesties of my adopted home.
I get a thrill gazing upon the skyscrapers of the Twin Cities, and visit the Walker Art Center and Como Park Conservatory whenever I can.
I don’t want to leave this place, and unfortunately, the detestable Jordan Lewis may be my only option forward.
Even worse, a thrill runs through my pussy when I think of the aggressive alpha male because he’s handsome and demanding.
What would it like to be beneath him in bed?
What would it be like to feel those big hands all over my curves, gentle and yet ravenous at once?
What would it be like to stare into those blue eyes, and to see them fill with lust for my curves as he breeds me to within an inch of my life?
Suddenly, I know what my answer will be . .. because it’s going to be YES.