Read The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance Online
Authors: Cher Etan,BWWM Club
The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance
Baby He Wants
He's having her baby, but he's
engaged to another...
A complete and exciting
romance, brought to you by best selling author Cher Etan.
For
Tristan
Carrington, a billionaire who's all about family and extending his
legacy, finding out he can't have children is a big blow.
So when he
goes to a music festival to let off some steam and ends up spending a
passionate weekend with a fellow festival goers, he doesn't think
much more of it.
That is
until this woman shows up months later claiming she's pregnant with
his child.
Ava
Richards, the beautiful and intelligent woman who's now carrying his
baby, isn't expecting anything from him in return.
But a woman
who can potentially make his dreams of having a child come true can't
just be ignored, especially when she's a fine woman in her own right.
There's just
one small problem.
How will he
break the news to Savannah, a woman he's now due to marry, and his
mother, who has a vested interest in making the merger with
Savannah's family happen?
Find out in this inspirational
BWWM romance by best selling author Cher Etan.
Suitable for
over 18s only due to wildly passionate love scenes between a
billionaire and a strong African American woman.
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She
was standing right against the speaker, head thrown back, plastic cup
in her hands. Her eyes were closed and her shoulder length curly
brown hair was all over the place. She was dressed in the shortest
cut off shorts he’d seen all festival; and that was saying
something at
this
rock fest. She did have legs for days so he really couldn’t
blame her. If
he
had legs that long and shapely he’d
live
in shorts that short. She was drinking from a plastic cup. Whatever
was in it was causing her to sway slowly from side to side as if to
the beat. But she was wearing those head phones which blocked out all
sound and there was no way she could look as comfortable as she did,
if she could actually hear the sound emanating from the speaker she
was leaning on. Her ears would be bleeding. She must be responding to
vibration. Tristan wondered why anyone would come to a rock festival,
with headphones that blocked out sound, and then lean on a speaker
which was booming out the electric guitar riffs of Fireflies on Ice
while the lead’s whining voice crooned over the drums.
Before
he knew he’d decided to do it, he was walking toward her. She
continued to sway from side to side, occasionally drinking from her
tumbler, long café au lait legs tapping to the beat. He
stopped in front of her, waited for her to notice him. She swayed for
a bit longer before she realized a shadow had fallen over her.
Opening her eyes, she stared into his.
He
raised his eyebrows at her. She raised her hands in a ‘what?’
type of gesture. He inclined his head and began to walk away from the
speaker, not turning to see if she was following. When they were a
reasonable distance away, he stopped and turned.
“
Tristan
Carrington,” he said sticking out his hand.
“
Ava
Richards,” she replied not reaching out to shake it.
“
Hey
Ava, I couldn’t help noticing what a beautiful woman you are. I
was just wondering if I could buy you a drink,” he said
shifting his legs into a wider stance and folding his arms. He felt
like he might be at war for some reason.
Ava
laughed, “Wow, does that pick up line usually work?”
“
Well,
yes ma’am. It usually does.”
“
That’s
great for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to
work.”
*****
Tristan
watched Ava walk away with a look of determination on his face. Her
luxuriant hips swung casually from side to side with no special
effort from her as her long shapely legs carried her away from him.
He was going to have him some o’ that if it killed him. Tristan
was almost glad she was playing hard to get. Nothing took your mind
off bad news like chasing reluctant women. And he’d had the
worst news; news he’d rather never think about. especially
since sooner or later, he would have to tell his mother about it. She
was a good woman, his mother, but strict. And she’d been
talking about grandchildren since he turned fifteen and she bought
him condoms for his birthday. Told him he could get practicing but
she didn’t want any grandchildren until she turned sixty. And
she would be sixty in four years… he was thinking of asking
Savannah Leicester for her hand in marriage; or rather his mother had
strongly suggested he do that. They’d been on and off for
years, and Savannah’d declared summarily that if he wanted her
back this time, he would come bearing gifts. Diamond ring type gifts.
He was
ready to do it; the ring was a family heirloom, acquired from his
mother and resized to fit Savannah’s finger. Dinner was set up
in which it was understood by both families that a proposal would be
made. But first, to save time, both individuals went for their blood
tests to ensure that everything was in order. Dinner was supposed to
be next Sunday; Tristan had gotten his results yesterday. He was a
healthy, strapping twenty eight year old man, free of disease but his
sperm count was so low that it was unlikely he would ever father any
children. It was Hiroshima, Nagasaki and 9/11 combined. Carrington
wealth was all well and good; but it was useless without heirs to
pass it on to. Tristan was basically holding the future of the
Carrington Empire in his hands, and he was unable to deliver.
So he
was here, at this rock music festival, to forget everything; lose
himself in physicality and sensuality for one weekend before he had
to face reality in form of his mother on Monday. He was going to
enjoy all the pleasures on offer, including whatever women took his
fancy. It's not like he had to worry about consequences anymore.
“
Hey
Ava!” he called as he followed her into a warehouse. She turned
around irritably, she was lugging around a huge guitar and Tristan
hastened forward to relieve her of it.
“
Let
me help you with that,” he said taking it out of her hands. Ava
shot him an irritable look and snatched the guitar back.
“
Thank
you, oh nineteenth century gentleman but this is my job and I need to
do it now. So if you’ll
excuse
me...” she said tossing her hair and walking off. Tristan
watched her go.
“
Damn
girl,” he whispered. “You are so going to be mine this
weekend, count on it.”
*****
Tristan
was still standing at the doorway, waiting for her when she finished
setting up for Casey and the Flash band. She did not know what his
deal was but he was at a rock concert; girls were coming out of the
wood work left and right. She didn’t see why he was stuck on
her. Maybe he was one of those white guys who had black girl
obsessions, and that was fine; but she was nobody’s toy. He
could go objectify someone else. She blew past him, walking fast and
not so much as turning her head to look at him. His hand snaked out
and snagged her arm. She considered for a brief moment karate
chopping him to the ground; she
was
a black belt after all… but then reconsidered. She turned to
glare at him.
“
What?”
she snarled.
He gave
her his best puppy dog eyes. “Look, I get it. You’re a
beautiful girl and being hit on by every male with a pulse must get
annoying and old. But I have just had the worst news a man could get;
and all I want is to buy you a drink. Please, help me forget for an
hour or two. No funny business. Just drink. And talk. Come on Ava,
whaddaya say?”
He
sounded sincere. Ava was torn. She narrowed her eyes at him.
“
One
drink,” she said.
“
One
drink,” he repeated with a happy smile. Ava tried not to smile
back; it wasn’t as easy as she might have hoped.
He took
her to the VIP bar where all the performers were drinking as well as
a few select guests. Her colleagues were usually found at a less
prestigious spot; they liked the Black Bar located near the loading
docks. It was the least popular with the festival goers because it
was off the grid; but it also had the largest selection of beers.
Bands took care of their roadies; it was a reciprocal arrangement.
The VIP tent wasn’t bad either though; the snacks were
definitely of a higher quality and the selection of alcohol was
wider. Ava didn’t like to drink while working; but she was
finished for the day.
“
I’ll
have a White Russian please,” she said to the barman as he came
to take their order. She had no idea what that was but had always
meant to try it out. Today seemed to be a good day to do that.
Tristan ordered a scotch on the rocks – such a rich white guy
drink – and then led her to one of the white leather booths set
around the tent.
“
This
is nice. I’ve not been in here before even though we set up
Monday. Is there a secret code that you guys know about to find this
place?”
“
Yeah.
There’s a guy at the entrance that you show your black card to
and they whisper it in your ear,” Tristan replied cheekily.
“
Huh.
It’s the Russian bodyguard looking dude isn’t it? He’s
always standing around in his shades – which he wears even at
night; douche bag – but he doesn’t seem to do anything,”
Ava said.