#jon ff

Chapter Five

You smiled coyly over your soup, looking at him like this really was just some first date and you were seeing how things would play out. You asked him to check in with Shannon a couple of times, but other than that, you'd hardly spoken.

He smiled back as if he hadn't been inside you only twenty minutes before. He could still taste you on his lips, still smell your perfume clinging to his clothes — it all just made him want you more. Again. Over and over. Right there in the restaurant. Over the table if he could.

He'd always enjoyed sex, always been ready and willing to get his dick wet whenever the opportunity presented itself, but this wasn't that. You weren't just a fuck to him. Even during that first night together, you'd felt like more. A need instead of a want. A desperate clawing beneath his skin whenever he couldn't touch you.

And when he noticed other men were looking your way?

Billy had always been a selfish and jealous man, fiercely protective of anything he considered his. And you were his. Not just because you were the mother of his children, but because it was what he wanted. He had chosen to keep you, to possess you.

You bit your lip as he reached across the table and took your hand in his, a clear declaration to anyone looking your way that you were taken. His thumb brushed over your knuckles and the gesture was enough to finally spark conversation after a protracted silence.

"I don't usually do this," you said.

"Which part?" He asked. "The dinner or what just happened in the parking lot?"

You squirmed and, for a second, Billy dared to hope you were remembering how it had felt. He wanted to be under your skin and wanted you to replay every intimate encounter with him, just as he did with you. Truth be told, after your night together in the Hamptons, it had taken Billy weeks to get you out of his head, and almost a month before he could fuck anyone else without picturing your face and the way your mouth went slack as you came. So, now that he had you again, he was determined to never let you go.

"Both," you answered shyly.

"Why not?"

You shrugged and let out a slow breath. "I don't know... I'm usually too busy for dating. And, normally, I prefer to have sex in a bed."

"You told me you don't do one night stands," he said, not caring how it seemed that he'd remembered some throw away comment you'd made to him over ten months ago.

"That might have been a little white lie..." you said. Billy remained silent, waiting for you to explain. "We were warned about you and I didn't want to seem like a target..."

"Target?" It was hard not to be a little offended at that.

"No — no, not a target, but just..." you let out a huff, struggling to find the words. "I was worried that you'd just see me as something to use and throw away."

His eyebrow raised.

"Can we just... I don't know, start from the start?" You asked. "Do things properly? Y'know, get to know each other. Like you suggested..."

He let out a slow, measured breath, but didn't allow his expression to chance. It had been his suggestion but, now faced with actually doing it, he wasn't sure where to start. Some part of him had hoped he could just keep distracting you with sex until everything worked itself out.

"Okay," he said, "what do you want to know?"

"I... I don't know," you said, biting your lip in a way that had Billy wanting to drag you back out to the car. "Did you grow up in New York? Do you have family here?"

Of course that was where you wanted to start.

"I did grow up here, but I don't have any family."

"Did they leave, or —"

He decided to save you the embarrassment of continuing. "My mom safe haven'd me at a fire station in Albany a couple of hours after I was born. Never knew my old man."

Billy kept his eyes on you, a gentle smile on his face, hoping to reassure you that it wasn't important, that he didn't care. His thumb ran across your knuckles as a frown creased your brow.

"Hey, it's fine," he said a beat later. "As far as I'm concerned, she did me a favour."

"You never knew her?"

"I know enough about who she was to know life on the streets with a junkie was no life for a kid," he said.

Your frown only deepened. "So what happened to you?"

"Foster care," he shrugged, hating that your eyebrows stayed pinched together. "Don't feel bad — look at everything I've got now. I'd say everything turned out pretty well."

"I just..." you started and stopped, blowing out your cheeks.

"What?"

"When things got bad with my parents, I used to wish someone would take me away," you said, voice turning quiet. "It feels really selfish now..."

"It must've been bad to make you want to leave," he prompted gently.

"It wasn't always terrible, but after my dad got hurt on a job and couldn't work anymore, things got... difficult." You reached for your wine and took a long drink, like you were trying to wash a bad taste from your mouth.

But Billy wanted to know. He didn't want you to hide any part of yourself from him. "Difficult how?"

"Drinking, fighting with my mom... telling me he'd walk out if he didn't think my mom would go after him for child support," you said before taking another drink. "Not that she was any better. Any time he did try to leave, she'd beg him to stay 'cause she didn't want to raise a kid alone..."

He was silent for a moment, letting it all sink in. It was starting to become clear why you were reluctant about him and about the future he wanted for you. His thumb continued to brush across your knuckles as he chose his next words.

"That won't be us," he told her softly, but in a way that left no room for argument. "Whatever happens, we'll put the kids first." Your lips parted, but he didn't let you speak. "I don't have any intention of being like my parents, and I'm sure you don't want that either."

Your expression softened and you gave a nod. "No, I don't want that."

Billy smiled and gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. He was about to say something when the waiter appeared to clear away your soup bowls and bring out your main courses. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand from yours so he could focus on his steak.

"So," you said, trying to restart the conversation, "how did you get into private security?"

He hitched up his shoulder in an awkward shrug. "I kind of fell into it? I was a Marine and, after I got my discharge, I needed something to do. And I never had much in the way of fancy credentials."

You gave a nod, and he found himself thankful that you probably already knew about his time as a Marine thanks to whatever warning you'd been given all those months ago. Your friend had married one of the guys from his unit, after all — and no one knew the sordid details of Billy's life like his Marine brothers.

... well, most of the sordid details.

"You built a whole company on your own?"

"I have a couple of silent partners but, yeah, mostly."

There was a flicker of something on your face, the sort of admiration that caused his stomach to twist and roil, but he pushed thoughts of his business partners and his lies of omission from his mind. If he was good at one thing, it was compartmentalisation. You didn't need to worry about Rawlings or how Billy had gotten the money to start Anvil.

You didn't need to worry about anything anymore.

"But you know how it is, right?" Billy said with a fond smile. "You run your own business."

"Yeah but not like that..."

Your attention returned to your food and, for a few minutes, he was content to let the silence linger. It wasn't uncomfortable, you were just enjoying your food. And, honestly? Billy was glad to see you eating properly. Something told him that it had been a long time since you'd last been able to sit down and have a nice meal.

That was going to change. He was going to see to it that this became your new normal.

"So, why photography?" He finally asked once your plate neared empty.

"My upstairs neighbour passed away when I was seven — he was always nice to me and the other kids in the building — when his son came to clear out his apartment, he let some of the kids rummage through his stuff," you explained with a shrug. "I found an old Minolta 35mm film camera that was at least fifteen years older than me. I'd save my allowance and do odd jobs just to afford film for it.

"When I got to high school, I worked on the school paper and the year book just so I could use the dark room," you flashed a fond smile for a second, but it quickly lost all warmth. "Though I guess some of it was so I had an excuse not to go home."

Billy gave a hum of acknowledgement as he stared across the table at you, trying to picture it, trying to imagine what you'd been like.

"What?" You asked when you noticed his smile.

"I just never thought you'd be the... nerdy type in school," he joked.

"And I suppose you were a jock?" You answered back, desperately fighting back a smirk. "I bet all the girls wanted a piece of you."

His chest puffed out and he sat a little straighter. "I can't help it if I've always been gifted with a face like this."

You rolled your eyes. "What was it, then? Football?"

Your eyes roved over him like you were trying to figure it out, trying to decide what sport and position best suited his build.

"Baseball," he said, deciding to put you out of your misery. "Only played freshman year though."

It was an effort to keep his tone neutral but it was pointless. Just one look at him told you that there was more to the story.

"How come?" You asked.

"I, uh... I hurt my shoulder when I was a kid. Tore my rotator cuff," Billy said, shrugging stiffly as if mentioning the old injury was enough to cause a dull ache. "Made it hard to play."

His eyes dropped to his plate and the few remaining vegetables. He wasn't really interested in eating them, he just didn't want to see the look on your face. Even though you'd been honest with him about your childhood, Billy didn't want to tell you about his, about Arthur, just yet.

"Why did you join the Marines?" You asked after a long minute of silence.

Billy gave another awkward shrug and smiled as he looked at you. "There wasn't really anything else I could do."

Both your plates were empty, so Billy took the opportunity to reach across the table and take your hand in his again.

"See, this isn't so bad, is it?" He asked.

"It's less awkward than I thought it was going to be," you admitted and shot him a coy smile. "Though, I guess it helps when we don't have to worry about the sex..."

"Why would we worry about the sex?" He said, smile widening to a smirk.

"Don't you ever get nervous?" You asked. Billy stared at you blankly. "Really? Never?"

"I've never had any complaints. And, from what I've experienced with you, I doubt you have either."

"I don't mean —" you huffed a laugh and shook your head. "I just mean the first time is always a little awkward."

"Our first time was a threesome in a hotel room, and 'awkward' is not the word I'd use to describe it. In fact —"

He stopped the second he noticed you tense, but it took him a moment more to realise why. The waiter appeared at your table to clear away the plates and leave you with dessert menus. You made a point of staring intently at the page.

"So you weren't even a little bit nervous?" You asked quietly. "When you showed up at my door with Meg — you weren't worried that I'd say no?"

There was a shyness to the question that he didn't quite expect, and he wasn't sure what you expected to hear, so Billy took a beat before responding.

"Not worried, no, but I hoped you wouldn't turn us away. I wanted you — I wanted to fuck you — but after that moment in the supply closet..."

"What?" You asked, daring to look up again.

"I meant what I told you; you deserve to be worshipped, and that's all I've wanted to do ever since," he said with a slow exhale. "I know you think it's a line, given my... reputation, but I'm willing to prove to you that I mean it. Whatever it takes."

"And if I said no more sex until I'm sure?"

It was a monumental effort to hold in his immediate reaction.

"Then I'd get very used to using my hand," he answered.

"Just like that?"

"Is it so hard to believe that I can survive without sex for a few weeks?" Again, he wasn't sure whether or not he was offended. Regardless of what you'd been told about him, he wasn't some out of control sex-pest and, as much as he was still thinking about fucking you again, if you asked him to wait he would. When you didn't answer, he asked; "is that what you want? No more sex?"

You didn't miss the seriousness of his tone.

"I... I don't know. I'm not sure what I want."

He let a few seconds pass in silence before giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Stop it. Stop overthinking and looking for problems that haven't happened yet. If you don't want to fuck, that's fine, but it's not going to keep me away from you — or the kids."

You nodded and dropped your eyes again. "I want the cheese cake."

He was content to let it go. Both of you ordered the cheese cake and finished your wine and, by the time the bill was paid, the awkwardness had dissipated.

You let him take your hand and lead you outside, leaning into his side, bracing yourself against the cold. The pace slowed as you neared the car and, before he could reach to open the passenger side door for you, you turned towards him. Your hand slipped beneath his coat and snaked around his waist, and you stared up at him.

He cupped your cheek with his free hand as you lifted your face and ghosted your lips against his.

"Thank you."

"What for?" He asked.

"For listening. For... not getting frustrated with me..." he gave you a questioning look, so you clarified; "I know this isn't easy for you and me not knowing what I want probably isn't helping."

You kissed him sweetly, and it was so at odds with everything he wanted to do to you in that moment, that Billy almost faltered.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he muttered against your lips, not letting you slip away from him. "I meant what I said; I'm prepared to wait as long as I have to."

He would have kept you in that embrace all night if he could, but the chill wind had you shivering in his arms and there were snowflakes in their air again. So, he played the part of the perfect gentleman and helped you into the car before driving you back to his building. The whole time he was acutely aware of every little movement, catching every little glance you shot him from the corner of his eye.

If he was a wagering man, he'd put money on you replaying what had happened in the car earlier that night. He was thinking about it too. Or still, really. It was a difficult picture to get out of his head. That was the thing when it came to you, not to mention part of the reason he was fighting so hard to keep you; no matter how many times he had you, the feeling of wanting never went away.

When you reached the penthouse, you let out a soft sigh of relief — you'd dealt with being away from the twins for a couple of hours better than he'd expected, but he'd seen the worry on your face whenever his phone buzzed.

Shannon was pacing back and forth, softly bouncing Chloe in her arms, but you were quick to reclaim your little girl.

"How were they?" You asked, pressing a soft kiss to Chloe's forehead.

"Connor fussed for a little while after you left, then he was out like a light," Shannon said. "Chloe was sleeping until she needed changing."

The conversation continued but Billy mostly drowned it out, too caught up in you, watching as you cradled his little girl and thanked Shannon. As Billy showed Shannon to the door, you went to check on Connor in the bedroom.

"I never thought I'd see the day that you were ready to settle down," she remarked, pulling on her coat.

"Me neither."

"Kids are a lot of work, you better be sure this is what you really want."

"I am," Billy said as he pressed the call button for the elevator. "Thank you for doing this."

She shrugged it off, telling him that it had been no bother and that the twins were little angels. And, unexpectedly, Billy felt something like pride fill his chest — his kids were little angels.

Shannon said her goodbyes and Billy lingered by the elevator for a few moments after the doors had slid shut behind her. Was this what fatherhood was like? Was tonight how the rest of his life was going to be? If so, he had no complaints.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed when Billy went to find you, Chloe clutched to your breast, feeding.

"Sorry, I can —" Billy started to apologise the second he noticed your embarrassment, " — I can come back when you're done."

You thought about it but quickly shook your head. "It's fine. Can you check on Connor?"

His heart gave an uncharacteristic squeeze at your request, at the idea you were letting him in and trusting him. In no time at all, he had the little boy in his arms and had taken a seat on the bed beside you.

"Thank you for tonight. You were right; I needed a few hours away from them," you said before letting out a soft laugh. "I spend so much time dealing with them fussing and crying that it's easy to forget how sweet they are when they're like this."

"They're both perfect." He barely realised that the words had come from him, and he was too busy staring down at little Connor to really think about it.

You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder, and the pair of you were content to stay like that until the twins finally fell asleep again. You sneaked out of the room behind Billy and followed him into the kitchen, where he put on a mug of coffee.

What followed was a quiet evening in front of the TV — he wasn't sure which of you had suggested it, but once you were pressed against his side, half asleep, he didn't even think about moving. You watched whatever crap was on, and you gave funny commentary about a cooking show, criticising the obvious (and sometimes outright disgusting) errors. On more than one occasion Billy dared to press his lips to the top of your head.

The babies fussed a little more, but nothing a change or a quick cuddle didn't settle.

"It's getting late," he said reluctantly. It wasn't quite midnight, but he wanted you to get some sleep.

"Right, I should..." you trailed off.

"I'll leave my door open." He flashed you a playful grin, letting you make of the invitation what you will. "Even if you just want someone to sleep next to."

You said your goodnights and allowed him to see the twins again before he headed to his own room.

Billy showered and climbed into bed, but he didn't sleep. Instead he listened intently to any noise out in the penthouse, any sound that might indicate that you were out there. He thumbed through an old copy of Dorian Gray, half-distracting himself with reading while he slowly gave up on the idea that you'd make an appearance.

He'd almost given up hope but, around 1am, the door opened and you slipped into his room. Billy immediately lifted the covers and made space for you beside him and you wasted no time in slipping into his bed. But, instead of settling beside him, you straddled him, climbing atop his naked body. Your nightgown rode up your thighs as you did and Billy had to fight to stay in control of himself.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what inspired this?" He asked, shuddering as you ran your hand over a ticklish spot on his chest.

"I want you to make me a promise," you said.

"Anything."

"Promise me that, if we do this, it'll be like this — you, me, and the kids. Together."

He stared up at you through the gloom, letting his hands slowly slide up your thighs. "That's all I want. I promise we can have this."

"You won't abandon us if things get too hard?"

"Never," he answered, lifting himself so he could claim your lips.

The kiss took you by surprise, but you let him drag you down, let him pull your body closer as if he never wanted to let you go. Billy was content to just kiss you and hold you — if that was all you wanted from him, then he was happy to oblige — but it wasn't long before you started to rock your hips. You moaned softly against his lips, and it took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to roll you over.

As he had in the car, he let you set the pace and control the situation (though he did help things along a little by continuing to push your slip upwards until you got the hint and pulled it off).

His hands trailed up and down your body, over every inch of exposed flesh he could find. You arched and moaned as his fingers grazed your nipples and shuddered as they ran over your stomach.

And, of course, he'd been hard since the moment you'd settled on top of him. As you ground against him, he felt you growing warm and wet for him, your body as desperate for him as he was for you.

When you finally gripped his cock and guided yourself down it, he didn't know whether to groan or let out a sigh of relief. He stared up at you, his hands still roving, still worshipping you, as you started to move. His hips flexed beneath you and you moaned all the louder for it.

Already this was becoming like a dance; you both knew the steps and the way the other moved, and you fell into an easy rhythm. He pulled you down for another kiss and found himself muttering against your lips; "mine. You're mine."

You breathed a yes, and Billy felt like something inside of him had fractured, the wall that he'd kept built around himself crumbling at that one little word.

He didn't know what this was, whether the feelings inside of him were love, but he wanted to find out — he wanted to find out what a life with you would be like.

Your hips started to stutter and you moaned his name as you started to come, and Billy took the opportunity to finally roll you onto your back. His arms hooked behind your legs, almost bending you in half beneath him as he drew out your pleasure, swallowing down your cries with his lips.

It wasn't long before you fell apart again and Billy quickly joined after, the pair of you left trembling and boneless, still desperately clinging to each other. He remained inside you long after it was over, tenderly brushing his finger over your cheek and getting lost in your gaze.

He would have stayed like that all night if he could, completely yours, but a cry echoed through the penthouse. Despite the interruption, he smiled and barely held back a laugh.

You let out a long sigh and offered up a smile of your own. "I better go see what they need."

Billy shook his head as he finally pulled away from you. "We can go see what they need.

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, but I want to," he said, climbing out of bed and offering you his hand. "We're in this together now."

A/N : I wanted to give this one an open ending so I can come back to it if I want to, but a sweet enough ending that you can probably imagine making it work. Like I said at the start, this was only meant to be a silly little thing because I had a random idea. Tomorrow I'm going to put up a poll for my next full-length fic, but it'll probably be a week or two before I start posting just to give me time to get plots/scenes planned out a little better than I did for this one. The choices will be a werewolf fic, a regency era fic, or another jigsaw Billy fic. Anyway, thanks so much for bearing with me through this one, it's been an insane couple of months for me.

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will hopefully be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

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Chapter Four

You woke up comfortable and rested, your whole body felt more relaxed than it had in months, and all you wanted to do was enjoy the moment. Your eyes barely opened before closing again, and you snuggled deeper under the thick quilt to avoid the chill in the air.

For a few seconds you almost forgot where you were and what had happened last night. But as you burrowed beneath the blankets, you found yourself enveloped in a scent that was all Billy, and when you moved you felt a not entirely unpleasant ache between your thighs.

Fuck.

You stilled, not wanting to disturb him while you thought everything over — you'd gone to him, climbed into bed with him, even though you'd all but rejected his offer of a relationship. And it was amazing. The way he'd touched you — worshipped you — had left you aching for more. So much so that you were tempted to roll over and wake him for one more round before finally dealing with the reality of the situation.

No, maybe it would just be better if you crept out before he woke up. Things had escalated quickly between you. Too quickly. You still needed time to think, time to decide what was best for the twins.

You couldn't just make decisions based on your wants alone anymore.

But sneaking away wasn't an option either. Things couldn't be weird between you and Billy, not if he wanted to be in the twins' lives.

You dared a glance towards the window and realised that light was already filtering in beneath the dark curtains, meaning it was morning and you were on borrowed time before the babies needed their morning feed.

Taking a slow breath, you forced yourself to roll over to face him.

Only, his side of the bed was already empty. You ran a hand across the sheet, found it cold, and realised that he must have gotten up some time ago.

Sitting up, you wondered where he was, but that stopped mattering the second you heard a baby babbling.

You almost tripped as you got out of bed, suddenly stopping when you realised you were only wearing his shirt. The panties you'd been wearing beneath were nowhere to be seen, but there wasn't time for anything more than a cursory look around as you buttoned up the shirt and covered yourself as best you could.

You froze again, one step out of the bedroom.

Billy was standing in front of the windows, where he had kissed you the night before, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants and cradling one of twins. From the reflection in the glass, you could see a bottle against the baby's lips — Billy must have found the emergency formula that you kept in the stroller bag.

Both of the baskets the twins had slept in had been moved out of the spare room and —

Something in your chest gave an awkward squeeze at the sight. You'd had your doubts but, there he was, being a father to your children. To his children.

"Your mom tells me that you're a fussy boy," Billy muttered softly. Connor — he had Connor settled in his arms and feeding again. "It's okay, I'm here now. I'm gonna help you and mommy, and..."

His voice turned so soft, you didn't hear the rest as Billy bowed to press a kiss to his son's head.

It felt like you were intruding, spying on a deeply personal moment — which was ironic given how Billy had spent the week following you. But there was something else, an unexpected feeling beneath your ribs that you never would have expected in a million years. A warm fondness radiated through your chest and, when Billy finally turned and noticed you, that warmth became a fire that settled in your core.

For a second all you could do was stare at him, at the way he was holding your son, cradling him in his arms against his bare chest, and —

If you hadn't given birth only two months ago, the sight alone might have made you feel broody. Then he smiled and, honestly, if he'd tried to take you back to bed, you would have struggled to find a reason to say no.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," you answered, unable to find the words to explain any of your thoughts.

"I've got them if you need a few more hours," he offered.

There was no denying how good the offer sounded — how long had it been since you'd last been able to spend a lazy morning in bed? Too long. And that had nothing to do with the twins.

You shook your head, knowing you couldn't abuse his hospitality, and cleared the distance between you. Connor was content in his father's arms, still feeding, and Chloe was wiggling in her basket. She looked happy, though the awkward bulging beneath her onesie raised your eyebrow.

"Has Chloe been —"

"Fed and changed," Billy answered. "They both have."

You waited a beat, looking from the baby to Billy, then back again. "Have you ever changed a baby before?"

Sure enough, when you looked at Connor, you noticed the same awkward bulge.

"Well... no... but we didn't want to wake you..." Billy answers, a hint of pinkness tinting his cheeks.

You weren't upset — how could you be when he was throwing himself into the role of a father to the twins?

"It's okay," you told him, scooping Chloe up. "It's a learning curve."

Billy nodded and turned his attention back to Connor, smiling fondly at his son while you sat with Chloe and let your gaze drift to the windows. The snow had stopped falling, but the world outside was blanketed with white.

"Do you want breakfast? I could cook — I think I've got some bacon, or we could have pancakes?" He asked. "And we could talk about last night?"

You knew exactly what he meant, but still asked; "talk about what?"

He shot you a look and bit back a sigh. "What happened in my bed. We fucked..."

You pressed a hand over Chloe’s ear, cheeks heating with a strange sort of embarrassment.

Billy rolled his eyes. "Or are we not going to talk about that?"

"No, we can," you said, keeping your eyes on Chloe, "I just..."

You fell silent, not sure you even knew what to say about last night or anything really. So much had happened in so little time.

"What?" He prompted gently after the silence had dragged on for a few seconds.

"I don't know, okay? It's just a lot and everything has been happening so fast..."

"Go to dinner with me tonight."

You stared at him. "I can't just drag the kids to a restaurant, Billy. They're only two months old. They have a schedule, a routine that they —"

"No kids, just me and you."

You continued to stare while Chloe squirmed. "I don't have time to find a sitter. I can't just drop everything because you want to —"

"I'll find a sitter."

"It doesn't work like that," you told him, trying to hold back your frustration for the twins' sakes. "You can't just find the first random sitter, I need someone who I trust with them — someone with references."

"I'll find someone," he countered. "I have plenty of trained and vetted people working for me."

"You can't just —"

"I can. If you'll let me," he said, managing to keep his tone light, despite the fact that this was close to becoming an argument. You let out a sigh, feeling like you were fighting a losing battle. "You need a few hours to yourself. You're going to be no good to the kids if you don't start taking care of yourself."

He moved before you could even think of a response, gently lowering Connor back into his basket and coming to kneel in front of you. He placed a gentle hand on your bare knee and looked up at you.

"Let me do this," he continued, "let me take you to dinner. You'll only be gone a couple of hours, and the twins will only be a phone call away."

There was something so soft about him in that moment, something that had you wondering if you'd ever be able to deny him anything. And you knew he was right, in fact, you'd been silently wishing for just an hour to yourself for the past two months.

"They'll be fine. I promise I'll find the best person to watch them." Then, he fell silent. "Everyone who works for me goes through extensive background checks. There's nothing to worry about."

The look on his face told you that he wasn't going to take no for an answer, and the hand on your knee gave a reassuring squeeze. He seemed so certain in that moment, so completely sure of himself that you couldn't bring yourself to doubt him.

"Only for a couple of hours," you finally agreed.

"You can time it if you want," he said, fighting back a smile. His hand lingered on your knee and a beat later he asked; "so, breakfast?"

You ate together but didn't get to discuss the events of the previous night. Every time it looked like the conversation was going to veer in that direction, something interrupted you. First the kids took it in turns, needing to be changed again — which, honestly, given the way Billy had put on their diapers, you were a little relieved to get them changed — then Billy's phone started pinging as he arranged a sitter.

Shannon, his secretary, had agreed to babysit, and while you were busy imagining some leggy blonde, Billy rattled off all of her qualifications; CPR training, clean background check, and extensive experience with children of all ages.

After eating, you finally talked Billy into letting you go home. He insisted on driving and you didn't want to argue with him. Even though the snow had stopped, the streets were white and icy, and the sky was still an ominous shade of grey. At your building, he helped you upstairs and, before you could even think about it, he kissed you goodbye. A soft lingering kiss, that left your lips tingling long after he'd pulled away and seen himself out.

Five hours later, you found yourself staring at the door.

"Why am I doing this?" You muttered to the twins, answering your own question with a single glance.

They were why you had agreed to dinner with Billy. You wanted your children to have their father in their life, and you — well, your feelings on him were a little more complicated.

After being dropped off at home and getting the twins bathed and into fresh clothes, you'd put them down and thrown yourself into a hot shower. The water cascading down your skin reminded you of Billy, of all the way he'd touched you and how his lips had felt as they slowly slipped down your body.

The memories were enough to have you slowly running a hand down your body, tracing the path his mouth had taken before slipping between your legs. He had spent a week following you — stalking you — but it was his face you picture when you closed your eyes. You thought about him on top of you, inside you. You thought about the sounds he made as he fucked you, and the way his jaw went slack as he came.

No one had ever made you feel the way he did. No one had learned your body so quickly.

His name slipped from your lips as you came undone, but your orgasm did little to lessen the tension inside of you.

It was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous — how had you let this man, who you hardly knew, get such a hold over you?

He was exactly what you'd been warned about all those months ago.

It wasn't that you felt like you couldn't say no to him. It was worse than that. You didn't want to say no to him. You wanted the hot, passionate sex, and the sweet mornings  watching him take care of the twins. What worried you was the thought that the bubble might burst.

As much as you loved the twins, they were hard work. And, you weren't always the easiest to deal with either.

You were scared that if you let him into your life and allowed yourself to really feel something for him, that he'd realise that he'd made a massive mistake.

The rest of your day passed like a montage from some rom-com, with you juggling looking after the kids, cleaning your apartment, and trying to find something suitable to wear.

Though, finding something suitable was, unfortunately, easy. The only thing you had that still fit in a way that you were comfortable with, was a deep blue dress that you'd bought for a beach wedding in Mexico. The fabric had enough give and a cut that didn't cling too much, but the neckline exposed more of your cleavage than you were comfortable with. So, the real challenge was finding something to wear over the dress.

In the hours that you had to get ready, you talked yourself out of going to dinner with him dozens of times only to falter when you picked up the phone to tell him as much. It wasn't that you didn't want to go to dinner, and it wasn't that you didn't want him in the kids' lives, it was just...

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts and forced you to push aside your doubts. He was there and it was too late to back out.

Opening the door, you realised he was completely alone.

Okay, you realised he was completely alone after you'd taken in the sight of him. He looked like he'd been poured into his dark suit, every inch of him perfect in a way that had you wondering if this was all just a dream.

"You look nice," he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of your blue dress.

It took a second for you to find your voice.

"Did — did you not find a babysitter?" There was a spark of hope in your question. Maybe he was there to cancel.

"She's meeting us at my place," he said with all of his usual cool confidence.

You stepped aside as he stepped past you and into your apartment, making a beeline for the bassinet and the babies.

"At your place? I don't —"

"I'm taking you to a restaurant in Manhattan and traffic is still a nightmare," he explained, not even looking at you as he greeted the twins. "I figured it'd be safer to keep the kids close by in case it starts snowing again."

You couldn't fault his logic, but the fact that he hadn't told you until that moment had an irritated sigh forcing its way from your lips.

"I don't have anything ready for them," you said, tone clipped.

"That's okay, we've got time, you can pack them a bag," he said, eyes still on the twins, waggling his fingers over the bassinet

"It would have been nice of you to let me know."

"Is it really such a big deal?" He finally looked at you and, when he noticed the expression on your face, he almost winced. "I just thought that since you stayed last night —"

"What? That I'd want to spend the night in your bed again?"

Was that it? Was this all just about sex for him? The thought made you feel sick.

"No, that's not —" he took a step towards you and then stopped. "Is that what you think — that I'm just doing this because I want to fuck you again?"

"I don't know what I think. I haven't had time to think." Your voice softened a fraction, but there was no hiding the lingering annoyance.

Billy took a slow breath, carefully measuring his next words.

"I know that all of this probably seems a little... fast, and I know it's a lot to wrap your head around. I'm just not the sort of guy who holds back when I want something."

"And what is it that you actually want, Billy?"

"I've told you; I want this. I want you and the kids."

"And it's just that easy for you?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

You didn't have an answer. All you had was a laundry list of worries and doubts, and you were starting to think that they were more to do with you than anything Billy had ever done.

"I get it," he continued after a few uncomfortable moments of silence, his voice softening. "If we'd done any of this the normal way, then I don't know how I'd feel. I never thought I wanted to be a father or try for a committed relationship, but how can I not care about kids that are already here? Kids that didn't ask to be born. And you..."

It was his turn to fall silent. His unfinished comment hung in the air between you long enough for your heart to start beating a little faster, stomach knotting as you awaited the awful, inevitable pain of being told he felt trapped. That was it, wasn't it? He felt like you'd trapped him with the kids, and he was only doing this because he felt like it was the right thing to do.

"And me?" You asked softly.

Billy shook his head and finished closing the distance between you. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch soft and warm in a way that made you want to melt against him.

"I don't know," he confessed. "All I know is that I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the moment we met. There's just... something about you. I've never... I've never had someone get under my skin like you."

"Why?" It slipped out as little more than a whisper, and the tender look Billy gave you had the knots tightening in your stomach.

"You make me laugh and you don't just let me do what I want," he said, shrugging. "And you're clearly not interested in me for my money."

"Of course I'm not."

"Most women are. And, I guess I was fine with that but now..."

"Now?"

His thumb stroked your cheek, and you got lost in his dark eyes.

"Now I want someone who actually sees me. Someone who wants me..."

"What if I can't?" You asked.

"All I'm asking is that you try."

And, again, you found that you couldn't say no to him. Instead, you leaned into his touch and let out a soft sigh. "Okay."

That was how you ended up in Billy's car, an overnight bag packed for you and the twins, who were dozing in two brand new car seats. And the car seats weren't the only new thing Billy had purchased for the twins.

At his apartment, you found two cribs waiting in the spare room, as well as a changing mat in the bathroom, and a small pile of soft toys. In the hours you'd been apart, he'd made his penthouse as baby-friendly as he could, and you were... speechless. Confused. Shocked.

Even more so when Shannon appeared and all of your assumptions about Billy's secretary were blown clean out of the water. She was a little older than Billy, and wasted no time explaining to you that she had two kids of her own who had been nothing short of nightmares when they were younger

You explained the twins' schedule, made sure she knew where everything was in their bag, and triple checked that she had your number, but it still took ten minutes for Billy to usher you towards the door.

The second the elevator door closed, your heart started to race and you watched the illuminated numbers as they signalled the growing distance between you and your babies. You'd known that you'd have to leave them eventually but not yet, not like this. Your lips parted and the first syllable of an apology was on the tip of your tongue when his hand found yours.

He gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me."

And, for reasons that were entirely beyond you, you did.

You were quiet all the way to the restaurant, only giving little hums and nods whenever Billy spoke. He didn't push or prod, he just let you get lost in your thoughts until he pulled into an almost empty parking lot and killed the engine.

"Talk to me," he said softly. "What's wrong?"

As much as you wanted to tell him that you were just worried about the twins it wouldn't have been the truth and, if you were really going to try for something with him, you wanted to be honest.

"This... you... it's a lot..." you said, keeping your eyes fixed forward.

"Why?" He wasn't angry, wasn't upset. He genuinely wanted to understand.

"Because I don't think I can handle letting you into my life — our lives — if you're not sure that you really want this."

"I do want this."

"You keep saying that but you don't even know what this is. You've spent one night with the twins, and barely a day longer with me..." you said. "What if... what if we're not really what you want?"

"What if you are?" He asked. "What if this moment is the only thing that's standing between us and an amazing life together?"

You stayed silent, but dared to look his way.

"I didn't know what I wanted, but then I got to hold Connor in my arms," Billy continued, letting out a soft sigh. "Connor and Chloe, they're... mine. I know what it's like to have a parent walk out, and I'd never do that to them."

"What if I'm not what you want? What if I make you miserable and we make the twins miserable?" You asked and Billy shot you a disbelieving look. "My parents spent my whole childhood tearing each other apart, and they blamed me. I don't want to put our kids through that."

He reached for you and cupped your cheek with his warm palm. "You could never make me miserable."

"How do you —"

His lips met yours, silencing your question. When he kissed you like that, you didn't have the strength to continue questioning him.

"Just... come to dinner with me," he murmured against your lips. "I promise we'll figure everything out."

You didn't answer, instead you reignited the kiss, wanting to lose yourself in the gentle reassurance that he was offering you.

Each taste of him left you craving more and more, and despite your reservations, you knew that you couldn't keep denying him. As much as you might have wanted to shield your heart and protect the twins, your every instinct fell silent when his tongue pressed at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance.

The hand on your cheek slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers lightly tangling in your hair, while your own hands had found purchase on his jacket. You pulled at him and he pulled at you, but it wasn't enough. Closer. You needed to get closer. You needed more.

You moved in unison — you awkwardly lifted from your seat and he guided you towards him with a hand on your hip. There was no hesitation, no awkward pause to think about where you were. The second you were seated on his lap you felt the dull pressure of his cock straining beneath his pants. It made you kiss him harder, more desperately as you remembered the last time you'd been on top of him. This time there was no Meg, no sharing him. This time he was all yours.

Billy groaned into the kiss, his cock twitching as you shifted your hips, grinding yourself against him. It was insane but you couldn't stop yourself, couldn't help but want more. Everything just made sense when you were together like this, when his lips and hands were on you. At some point your fingers slipped into his hair, but Billy didn't mind your tight grip. In fact, he seemed to want it.

He was the first to break, the first to start tugging at the clothes separating you. His belt came undone, then the button and zipper of his pants, all while you lost yourself to the kiss. You barely noticed until his hand slid beneath your dress to pull your panties to the side. Billy didn't stop until his cock was pressed against you, tip poised at your entrance, creating a wonderful pressure.

"Tell me you want this," he muttered against your lips. "Tell me you want me."

It was about more than the moment, about more than some quick fuck in a parking lot. You barely knew him but, fuck, you did want him. You wanted to see where all of it would go, wanted to give him the chance to be a good partner and father.

"I want this," you answer, already a little breathless. "I want you, Billy — fuck, I want you."

As he lifted his hips, you sank down, both of you moaning as he slid inside you with ease. You hadn't realised just how wet he'd gotten you until that moment, but the thought vanished the second you started to move.

He let you set the pace, let you ride him, rolling your hips and arching your back, making sure to take every inch of him.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he groaned, pulling you back into another kiss.

Perfect. He was the only one to ever call you that, and every time he said it, it felt like someone had let off a firework in your chest. It was all you'd ever wanted; for someone to think that you were enough, that you deserved. You moved faster, rising and falling on his lap with an increased urgency, wanting to hear him gasp and groan just for you. And Billy did just that, meeting each movement with one of his own, but still letting you set the pace.

You'd never expected insanity to feel so good.

"Perfect," he breathed against your lips, like he somehow knew what that word from him did to you. "Fucking perfect."

His chest shuddered against yours, an arm pulling you close and holding you tight. Nothing existed beyond the two of you in that moment, and the only thing that mattered was his touch, his lips and tongue, his cock buried inside you. You didn't have to think or worry, all you had to do was feel.

You pulled at his hair, tearing his lips from you so you could look at him and — you weren't prepared for how his dark eyes looked right through you, right down to your soul. He didn't blink, didn't look away. He looked at you like you were his whole world.

A gasped moan spilled from you the second you felt his thumb against your clit. Your movements faltered and your whole body tensed, almost falling apart for him right then and there. Billy grinned at you, instantly knowing you were already on the precipice. A shudder tore down your spine and, even though you were still setting the pace, you understood that he was in control.

His thumb moved slowly, barely the ghost of a touch against your clit, but it was still enough to push you higher.

"Billy..." you whined, not sure if you were begging him to stop or pleading for more.

He kept grinning, kept ghosting his thumb over your sensitive flesh as you rode him.

"Please..." you finally decided what you wanted. "More... please don't tease me..."

"Fuck, I love hearing you ask for what you want," groaned Billy.

There was no playful hesitation, no sign that he might deny you just to make you beg. His touch became more pronounced and you felt your clit throb in response. It didn't take long, there was no holding back your climax once it started to build.

You came with his name on your lips, back arching , and —

The horn blared as you pressed against the steering wheel, and you jolted forward, pressing yourself back against him. There was no telling if it was the sudden movement, or the way you were still writhing on his lap, but Billy gave a grunt and you felt him twitch inside you. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck as he came, alternating between swearing and groaning your name.

Reality and embarrassment started to creep in the second it was over and you remembered just where you were. You lowered your head to his shoulder and held on tight, wanting to hide from the world.

Fortunately the parking lot was still deserted and dark, and no one had the slightest idea what you and Billy had just done.

"Mhmm, first a storage closet, now my car," Billy muttered against your neck. "I'm starting to think you like the thought of getting caught."

A weak laugh escaped you. "We were caught the first time, remember?"

"And look how well that all turned out..." He didn't see you roll your eyes. "So... will you come for dinner with me?"

A/N : So, I've finally sorted out the keyboard problem... at least, I can now use my bluetooth keyboard again, so hopefully the next part shouldn't take three weeks. I think next week might be the last part of this one, since I only meant for it to be a little fun thing. But, thanks so much for your patience with this!

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will hopefully be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list : @oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @marginailia @amelijamorozova

Chapter One

It had been a long service. The bride and groom had written their own vows and, honestly, they'd written far too much. But you were used to it. Weddings were your bread and butter, though this time it felt less like work and more like torture. You were friends with the bride — well, okay, friends wasn't quite the right word. Friendly. You moved in the same circles.

You knew her well enough that when she asked you to photograph her wedding for a reduced fee, you couldn't say no. They, at least, paid for your room in the swanky Hamptons hotel where they were holding the wedding, which mostly made it worthwhile, even if you'd spent the last couple of weeks ill — you'd always wanted to go to the Hamptons.

Finally, after the vows were said and done, you had a break, a small window where you could get something to eat and drink. You opted for the hotel bar, away from the function room where the happy couple and their guests were having their fancy meals. Instead you ordered yourself a burger and a glass of wine, receipt carefully put away to claim back as an expense later.

He had been sat at the bar for almost as long as you, and you wouldn't have known he was from the wedding party if it hadn't been for his tux — and, fuck, that man certainly knew how to fill out a tuxedo...

Despite trying not to listen in, it was clear he was on a business call and he wasn't particularly happy. So much so that, when he hung up, he ordered himself a double whiskey and remained at the bar instead of returning to the wedding.

He let out a sigh, and you couldn't help yourself; "rough day?"

The question had him lifting his head and looking your way, a smile appearing on his lips. "It was, but I have a feeling it's about to get better."

His dark eyes fixed you with the kind of stare that, under different circumstances, might have stoked a heat inside you. But you'd been warned about this — about him.

"Oh," you said, realisation quickly dawning on you. "You must be Billy..."

Surprise flashed on his face, then an eyebrow rose, an unspoken question hanging between you.

"Your, uh... reputation precedes you," you said after swallowing. "We were warned about you."

You didn't expect him to grin or laugh but he did, and suddenly you realised exactly why you'd been warned.

Without a word, he slipped off his stool and moved to the one next to you, still smiling.

"And what exactly did they say about me?" He asked.

"Oh, that you were charming and handsome, and you could talk any girl out of her panties," you said, shrugging. "But, now I see you, I'm starting to wonder if they were talking about someone else."

He laughed again and, yeah, you already knew that you were in trouble.

"Bride or groom?" He asked, ignoring your teasing.

"Bride — not well, but well enough that I got roped into doing the photography with the friends and family discount." He propped himself up with his elbow atop the bar and gazed at you like you were the only other person in the world.

"At least you get a weekend in the Hamptons," Billy shrugged. His eyes dropped for a second, taking in your lilac dress. "If you're taking the photos, why dress up? Not that I'm complaining. A dress like that deserves to be worn..."

You made a show of rolling your eyes.

"Definitely a reputation well deserved," you muttered despite the smile on your lips. "If you must know, I already had the dress. And guests always tend to act more naturally when I blend in."

"They didn't offer to feed you?"

"They did but the options seemed a little too... fancy for my tastes," you shrugged, nodding at what remained of your burger. "And they offered to sit me at the kids table."

"Well, I'm glad they did 'cause I hate to drink alone," he said, grinning. "So, you're a photographer? Do you do a lot of weddings?"

"Yeah, mostly destination stuff — I get to travel and stay in fancy hotels on someone else's dime. It's pretty great most of the time."

"But you're based in New York?"

"Yeah, though I'm not really going to be back for a few months after this."

You spoke about your job, and he asked a few questions; did you run your own business? Yes. What got you into wedding photography? The money. What would you rather do? Travel photography.

If you didn't know any better, you'd have thought he was actually interested in you

He lifted his glass and drained it in one before seamlessly waving the bartender over to refill both of your glasses. You raised an eyebrow and glanced towards the door, but didn't protest. "Trust me, you don't want to be in there for the speeches, I've seen some of them already and the vows were nothing in comparison."

"You're with the groomsmen, right?"

That was why you and the bridesmaids were given the warning, because he was expected to be around. You just hadn't thought you'd bump into him in the wild, so to speak.

"Guilty," he said, almost managing to look sheepish. "I ducked out to deal with some business."

"What kind of business are you in?"

"The kind I don't like boring beautiful women with."

An undignified snort of laughter escaped you. "Wow, does that line ever work?"

Billy joined in with your laughter. "I don't know, you'll have to tell me in the morning."

"Do you need me to see if I can find a shovel to help with the hole you're digging?"

"I could tell from the moment I set eyes on you that you'd want something deeper."

You doubled over, palms flat on the bar as you struggled to breathe through your laughter. "Oh my god, stop."

When you finished laughing, you carefully wiped beneath your eyes, hoping your mirth hadn't caused your mascara to run. He was still looking at you but his expression had turned... softer. Honest.

"What?" You asked, barely noticing that you were angling towards him, propping your head on your hand to mirror him.

"Nothing, I just... I don't get moments like this very often..." he said, his voice losing some of its joking edge and becoming something else entirely.

"No?"

He shook his head. "Normally my charms are far too effective."

You smirked and took a long sip of wine. "Shame I was warned all about you."

"Oh, I'm sure you weren't warned about everything."

"Well, now I'm interested... I love a man with hidden depths..." you said playfully.

You weren't sure what it was about him, his disarming good looks, his playfulness, or the fact that no one had looked at you the way he was in a very long time, but it was getting harder and harder to remember why you'd been warned about him. (Or, really, harder to care — so what if he was a womaniser? It had been months since you last got laid, and Billy was very easy on the eyes.)

"Admit it, you were interested the moment you were told I'm a bad idea, " he said, seeming to lean a little closer. "And now you've seen me, you're wondering what it'd be like to spend a night in my bed."

Your cheeks warmed and you glanced down the bar towards the bartender, making sure she was out of earshot. She was, but the young, pink-haired woman caught your gaze and offered a knowing smile as if she knew what the pair of you were discussing.

"Is that what you're thinking about?" You asked, trying to turn the question back on him.

"It's what I've been thinking about since I first sat down."

"Just like that? You don't even know me..."

"Does that matter?" He asked. "It's a wedding. I could give you the best night of your life and you'd never have to see me again."

"I don't do one night stands," you shrugged. It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

"I'm fine being a dirty little secret."

"Emphasis on the dirty?" You said with a smile, shocked that you were even considering it.

But you were considering it. If only because he was being honest about what he wanted... and because he was handsome and funny.

"If you want dirty..." he trailed off and shrugged.

Warmth spread along your thigh, and it took a moment for you to realise that it wasn't arousal but his hand that was causing your skin to heat. And, once the hand was there, you didn't have the heart to move it.

"I'm not hearing a no..." he said, leaning closer, letting his lips brush against your cheek as he spoke.

"I'm... thinking..." you answered in little more than a whisper, suddenly finding yourself surrounded by the musky scent of his cologne.

His fingers gave a reassuring squeeze on your thigh.

"Why do I get the feeling you do that a lot?" He asked, still close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheek. Billy leaned closer still to whisper in your ear. "When was the last time you just let yourself have fun without overthinking it?"

When indeed.

You reached for your glass and drained it before glancing at the clock behind the bar.

"We've got twenty minutes before we're needed..."

The words had barely left your lips before he was on his feet, his hand taking hold of yours. You nearly stumbled but followed after as he pulled you out of the bar.

You made it about ten steps before a door across the atrium — the door leading back to the wedding — swung open and one of the bridesmaids appeared.

Panic filled you and you did the first thing to come to mind. You shoved Billy into a supply closet before the pair of you were noticed together.

The door swung shut behind you, and you realised how close you were, and that your hands were on his chest. A second later, his hands were on yours, just holding them against him. It wasn't entirely dark in the storeroom, but it took a moment for your eyes to adjust enough to see the look of disappointment on his face.

He pulled back a step, keeping his hands over yours.

"What?" You asked, dread coiling in your stomach as he shook his head.

'I'm fine being a dirty little secret, but if I embarrass you —"

Your eyes widened, realising what was running through his head. "No, that's not — it's not you, it's me. It's how they see me."

Billy stared at you blankly and all you could think about was the warmth of his hands enveloping yours. He remained silent, wanting for you to explain.

"I've known Kaitlyn since we were kids and... I don't know, she's always going out of her way to make me feel like crap about every little thing?" You said and he continued to stare at you blankly. "In fifth grade she found out Scottie Jameson liked me and she made a big deal of it, telling me that I wasn't ready for a boyfriend, that I wasn't pretty enough... then she went and told him that I didn't even know how to kiss, and —"

You stopped realising how ridiculous you probably sounded.

"It doesn't matter who you are, she'd still find a way to make me feel like shit. She... she has a way of getting in my head, making me feel like I don't deserve anything..."

He stayed quiet, just staring at you. He didn't move until you tried to pull your hands away from his chest, then he surged forward, kissing you fiercely.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips and into his as you were pressed back against the shelves. A possessive sound vibrated in the back of his throat and it had heat licking down your spine. His hands released yours so he could pull you closer, and explore the dips and curves of your body.

"You deserve to be happy," he muttered, lips pulling from yours and moving to your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped."

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuck.

Even if it was just a line, it soothed some ancient hurt inside of you. No one had ever told you that you deserved anything, that you were worthy of the feelings he was evoking deep inside you. It made you want, made you not care where you were and the warning you'd been given about him.

When his hand moved lower, brushing against your thigh, you brazenly lifted your foot and rested it on a shelf, opening yourself to him. He didn't hesitate, didn't pull away. His hand slid higher, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, anchoring yourself as the warmth of his touch bled through your cotton panties. Your hips jerked into his touch and he groaned again, and you practically started to drip with arousal.

Despite the passion of the moment, he was slow, almost teasing with his touch, tracing the lines of your folds through your panties before finding your clit. His lips claimed yours again as he started to circle the throbbing bundle of nerves, swallowing your needy moans.

His other hand was on your breast, palming you through the satin.

You came embarrassingly quickly, shuddering against him and pulling him closer, dreading the moment ending. But Billy was far from done. His fingers slipped into your wet panties and two slid inside you, not giving the chance for one orgasm end before starting to push you towards the next.

"Fuck, Billy..." you murmured against his lips, words muffled by his tongue.

Already you could feel your arousal mounting again — though, given his reputation, maybe it shouldn't have surprised you that he knew how to make women fall apart.

Closer and closer, your whole body trembled with each deft movement of his fingers, your heart skipping a beat every time they bent or twisted inside of you. You felt a scream start to form in the back of your throat, your body threatening to fall apart more intensely than it ever had before when —

Light filled the small storeroom and you turned to see the bartender standing in the doorway, gawking at you.

"I, uh —" she said and shook her head, "— shit, I'm so sorry..."

And, just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone.

"Oh my god," you groaned in embarrassment, burying your face against his neck.

If he cared at all that you'd been caught, he didn't let it show. He slowly withdrew his fingers. "Don't worry, I'm sure it happens all the time..."

"In porn maybe," you groaned.

"No, if it was porn she would have asked to join in," Billy offered, fingertips trailing down your thigh as he reluctantly pulled his hand from beneath your dress.

"And if she had, I'm sure you would have said yes," you deadpanned.

"Only if you wanted it too." Billy said, shrugging. The motion was enough to have you finally lifting your head, strangely lost for words — a loss that Billy easily spotted. "Fuck... you're thinking about it, aren't you?"

When he grinned, you finally understood what you'd been warned about; his dangerous charms all tied up in that one expression. He made you feel invincible, like the world was yours for the taking and all you had to do was ask him to hand it to you. And you liked it. You liked the way you felt around him. Brave. Untouchable.

"Well..." you said, offering a shrug of your own, knowing nothing would come of it, "it is a wedding, and people do crazy things at weddings... and she is very pretty..."

"Fuck," Billy said again, "you're supposed to be taking photos of the groomsmen in ten minutes..."

"What's wrong? Worried you're gonna be hard in all the photos?"

"With you on the other side of the camera thinking about a three-way with the barmaid? Yeah..."

You both laughed at that, but as much as you wanted to reignite the moment and finish what you'd started, you couldn't. There wasn't time and whatever cloud of insanity had descended with his first kiss, had dissipated with the arrival of the bartender.

"If it makes you feel any better, I doubt she would've said yes," you offered.

"You don't know that. I can be very persuasive when I want to be."

"Oh, I have no doubt," you said, laughing and giving him a playful pat on the shoulder before lowering yourself off the table. You took a slow breath, then; "well, this was... fun, but I really need to..."

"Let me see you again — when we're both back in New York, let me finish what I started."

At least he was honest about it, making sure you knew it was about sex, and not some pretense at getting to know you. Another time, you might have even said yes, but it wouldn't have worked out.

"Sorry," you said, doing your best to straighten your dress so it didn't look like you'd just been in the middle of hooking up when you were supposed to be working. "I don't know when I'm gonna be in the city next. My calendar is full for months — I fly out to Barbados on Tuesday, then I'm going to Paris, then Bali... everyone wants a destination wedding these days..."

If you didn't know better, you might have thought it was disappointment that dimmed his smile.

"Maybe some other time," he said, but any hint of excitement had been extinguished.

"Right. Well... I should go get my camera gear..."

"Right," he echoed.

You lingered for a second more until the sudden shift between you became smothering. You fled, not daring to look back over your shoulder at the man who'd made you want so much in so little time.

The rest of the afternoon went as planned — you saw him again for the groomsman shots, and again when you shot the whole wedding party. Some silly part of you thought that he might try to find you again later into the evening, when you were wandering the reception, taking candid shots. But, every time you saw him, he was with someone. Mostly beautiful women. He seemed to be a magnet for them, and you understood why.

But he didn't look at you. Not once. Probably for the best. It hadn't been a line when you'd told him that you wouldn't be around and some small part of you wondered if you'd be able to have a man like Billy for just one night without wanting more.

It was a long time before you could finally retire to the quiet of your room, exhausted from the day and a couple of glasses of wine south of sober. You got as far as slipping out of your shoes before giving up and slumping back on the bed, and you might have fallen asleep in your dress if it hadn't been for someone knocking on your door.

With a groan, you got up to see who it was. Opening the door a crack, you realised it was Billy.

"I was thinking about a couple of things you said," Billy said.

"You'll have to be more specific," you said, making a concerted effort to not bite your lip.

"About how it's a wedding, and how anything that happens between us doesn't really count as anything," he said, shrugging. "Well, it's still technically a wedding until tomorrow, so I figured we might as well have some fun."

"What makes you think I want to have fun with you?" You said, fighting to keep a smile from your lips, an awkward feeling of relief swelling inside you.

"Because I'm here to give you exactly what you want."

He held up his left hand, showing off a bottle of champagne that he'd acquired from somewhere, then his attention moved to his right. Your breath caught in your chest when you realised he wasn't alone. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of the pink-haired bartender.

You remembered what you'd told him in vivid detail and felt heat flush through your entire body.

The bartender grinned at you and offered her hand and you opened the door wider. "We didn't get properly introduced, I'm Meg."

You took her hand and, before you could talk yourself out of it, you were stepping backwards into your room, pulling Meg and Billy with you. Billy shut the door and put the latch on.

He handed you the bottle of champagne and you took a long, clumsy drink, almost managing to choke yourself.

"So," you managed, eyes watering as Billy took the bottle from you and set it down, "how do we..."

Meg smiled and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze — right, you were still holding her hand, you realised. She stepped in front of you and heat burned through every fibre of your being.

You trembled as Meg's fingers grazed your cheek. Her touch was soft and gentle, just like the kiss that followed. She was testing the water, making sure you knew what you wanted. And you did. As insane as it was, you wanted this. You wanted both of them — you wanted to live for one night.

Your lips parted for her, giving a soft moan as she pressed closer. And, as you kissed, you reached for Billy, pulling him closer, wanting — you weren't sure what. Anything. Everything.

Billy moved behind you and started to trail kisses up your neck. From time to time, Meg would pull from your lips to kiss him, and sometimes you'd turn to kiss him yourself. It wasn't long until the three of you found a rhythm, sharing yourselves with each other.

As you clumsily moved towards the bed, a tangle of lips and hands, Billy reached around you and started unbuttoning Meg's blouse while her fingers found your zipper. Your dress hit the floor mere seconds before you tumbled onto the bed with them, and Meg's fingers were redirected to Billy's shirt.

You couldn't tell where you ended and they started, whose fingers were pulling at whose clothes, whose lips were where on your skin. It was already everything you'd ever dared to imagine it could be. Soon enough, you were all naked on the bed..

Emboldened by alcohol and lust, you ran your hands down Meg's chest, cupping her breasts as Billy turned your head to kiss you again.

Your heart skipped a beat when Meg pulled back. Immediately you assumed that you'd done something wrong, that she was going to leave, but then she started to trail kisses down your body. Billy groaned behind you, kissing your neck.

The lower she got, the more you trembled in anticipation. This was definitely not how you'd pictured the weekend going. You weren't sure if it was Meg's hand or Billy's gently pulling at your thigh, urging your legs apart, but you let it happen.

By the time Meg was settled between your splayed legs, your heart was beating so hard you thought it might explode.

"Oh fuck," you moaned at the first gentle lap of her tongue between your folds.

The mattress dipped as Billy moved, but you'd lost track of everything that wasn't Meg. You just pressed your head back into the pillow and focused on the sensations she was creating with her lips and tongue.

You heard the telltale rip of a condom wrapper followed by a moan from Meg between your thighs. Lifting your head, you dared to glance down, your eyes catching the glint of promise in Billy's as he fucked Meg. You next. Your head dropped back again as Meg's tongue swirled around your clit, and you lost yourself the wet heat of her mouth against you.

It was enough to push you over the edge.

"Don't stop," you heard a voice gasp. You wouldn't realise until later that it was you, begging for more.

Your fingers grasped Meg's hair, holding her as she continued to drive you insane with her tongue and, then, her fingers. Every time she moaned against you, your body shuddered.

Billy groaned as he fucked her, and you must have blacked out from your next orgasm because, by the time you could think straight, Billy was laying beside you again. He kissed you, making more of those wonderful sounds directly into your mouth as Meg stroked his cock, getting him hard again.

For you.

He moved over you, fitting between your legs. You dared to look down and watched as he rolled a fresh condom down his cock.

"He's big," Meg muttered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You almost giggled at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, but then Billy was leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressed against you, waiting for permission. A slight nod from you was all it took for him to move.

Billy slid inside you with ease, a cry of pure pleasure spilling from you. It felt like nothing you'd experienced before, like the two of you were made to fit together.

"Fuck," he groaned, slowly pulling back his hips.

All you could do was stare up at the man on top of you, inside you, barely breathing as he started to move. The only thing that stopped you from babbling and saying something regrettable in the moment was Meg's hand on your cheek, turning your face so she could kiss you again.

You moaned into her mouth and she moaned in reply, Billy's fingers dipping between her thighs.

Again, you found yourself coming far too soon — you wanted the moment to last forever and, instead, all you got was a few minutes. But you weren't the only one. The second you started to writhe and tremble beneath him, you felt Billy pulse inside you, and when you moaned against Meg's lips, she responded in kind.

The three of you collapsed, boneless and spent on the bed, hands now tender and soothing in their exploration.

After an hour, you went again; you riding Billy while Meg sat on his face, kissing you deeply as you both took your pleasure. Then, you collapsed again, sprawled across Billy's chest while Meg pressed into his side.

You were half-asleep when Meg started to move, climbing out of bed, explaining that she had the morning shift.

"This was fun," she said, grinning down at you both as she fastened her bra. "If you guys are ever in town again, you should let me know."

You watched as she finished dressing, your whole body still alight with sparks of pleasure prolonged by Billy's fingers tracing patterns over your bare stomach.

Before leaving, she kissed both Billy, then you. Her long, lingering kiss made you wish for just a few more hours but she had to go.

The door closed behind her and Billy let out a slow exhale.

"Do you want me to go?" He asked.

"No," you said, a little too quickly and entirely too desperately.

You tried to hide your face in the pillow, but Billy moved over you, caging you in. He urged you to turn your head, and you did. The look on his face, the urgent need in his eyes stole your breath.

Despite the last two hours, you felt his cock, hard and ready against your thigh.

"Again?" You joked, already feeling breathless.

"If we've only got one night, I want to make the most of it."

"Haven't we already done that?" You joked.

"Are you saying you don't want to fuck me again?"

"No," you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

It felt different — better — knowing his full attention was on you. As he fucked you again, he let his hands and lips explore your body, and you did the same. As the tempo slowly increased and he pushed you to the boundaries of pleasure, you clawed at his back, scoring his skin with your nails. Billy fucked you harder, faster spurring you on, clearly enjoying the marks you were leaving on his skin.

It didn't last. It couldn't. Not when it was so perfect and every fibre of your being seemed in tune with his. You moaned his name as you came, and swallowed down his own gasp of surprise as he followed after.

Boneless and exhausted, you were pulled against his chest, and you fell asleep in his arms.

You were woken by an alarm on his phone. Sunlight was already creeping beneath the curtains and you realised it was morning. Your night with him was over.

But neither of you seemed inclined to move. Even though it had been his alarm that woke you, Billy didn't try to slip out of your bed. If anything, he held you closer.

"Do you have to go?" You finally asked, daring to lift your head.

"Not yet. I've still got time."

You shifted closer, moving to rest your head on his shoulder so you could see his face, wanting to commit every little detail to memory before he disappeared from your life.

It wasn't fair. You didn't want the moment to be over, you didn't want to lose the connection that you'd found with him, but there was nothing you could do about it. You hadn't been lying when you'd told him how busy you were going to be with work and travel over the next few months, and a man like Billy was hardly going to wait for you, just so you could see if something more might happen.

"Are you sure you don't want to meet up back in New York sometime?" He asked as if reading your mind. "I know plenty of open minded bartenders who'd love to —"

You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips to his with a desperation you hadn't wanted to share with him. You knew it wouldn't work between you, that there was no point asking him to wait, but the fact that he was at least pretending made you want to pretend just a little while longer.

It wasn't long before you were on your back, the increasingly familiar feeling of his fingers inside you pulling a string of moans from your lips. He touched you like he already knew you, like he was intimately familiar with every single inch of your body after only one night, and it only took a couple of minutes to have you falling apart, gasping his name against his lips.

Your hand reached down to grasp his cock, and you weren't the least bit surprised to find him already hard. You stroked him while he reached for the condom box on the night stand and —

"Fuck," he grumbled, "we're out of condoms..."

You continued to run your hand up and down his cock. "It's okay, I'm on the pill..."

It wasn't an offer you usually made but you couldn't stomach the thought of not having one last time. Billy didn't pause to think about it, and neither did you.

He sank back into your kiss and fucked you until you were both left panting again. As you pressed your face to his chest, lost in the afterglow, you found tears welling in your eyes. It was just your luck to find someone like him at such an awkward time in your life.

Neither of you moved, even though your time was running out — you both had to check out of your rooms by 10am, and you were certain you'd already missed breakfast.

Finally, "I should go."

You blinked, telling yourself that you were being silly for wanting it to be any more than it had already been, and nodded. "Right."

He kept his arms around you for a moment more and you dared to hope it was because he didn't want the moment to be over either. But then he let go and slowly slid out of bed.

You inhaled sharply at the scratches you'd left down his back, but Billy just smiled at you. "Something to remember you by."

"Maybe —" you started without pausing to think, "— maybe we'll run into each other again, when I'm back in the city..."

"Yeah, maybe." He didn't sound like he believed it, and you couldn't blame him.

No, it would be months before you were back in New York, and a man like Billy wouldn't stay single for that long.

He dressed and left you staring at the ceiling, wishing a thousand stupid wishes that would never come true. In the cold light of day, faced with the changes that were about to come, you felt the familiar nauseousness that had been plaguing you over the last few weeks, and decided to skip eating before heading home.

Ten Months Later.

It was cold and dreary, the sort of day guaranteed to put Billy in a bad mood.

There had been an incident during a training exercise, a contract had fallen through and, perhaps worst of all, his date for the evening had cancelled on him. If anyone had asked him, Billy might have remarked that his day couldn't get any worse, but then he was handed an envelope by his building's doorman, and his entire existence was turned upside down.

He stared blankly at the photograph; two babies, so young they had to be almost newborn. On the back there was a note.

I didn't know how to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know that I left the Hamptons with more than just memories...

It would have been a lie to say he hadn't thought about that night at least a dozen times in the months since it happened, but he'd given up hope of ever seeing you again. And this... this was something he'd never expected.

His phone was in his hand before he could even think about it, calling Anvil.

"I need someone found. Right now," he barked at his best analyst. "I'm going to text you the details. Send me the address when you find it, then wipe the search from the system." Then he hung up.

It took less than ten minutes for the message to come through; an address in Brooklyn. Five minutes after that, he was in his car.

He was going to find you, and you were going to explain what the fuck was going on.

A/N : This idea has been in my head for a little while, it's probably only going to be a short thing, but hopefully you'll enjoy it! I've tagged the people who asked to be tagged in Billy things!

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will hopefully be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list : @oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

Chapter Three

Dinner was... uncomfortable.

It was a shame really, because the pasta that Billy had thrown together was good — far better than you'd expected, given what little you knew about him. You didn't even try to object when he heaped more onto your plate, even though you were still angry, still uncomfortable about everything you'd learned in the last twenty minutes.

And, if it hadn't been for that weighing heavy in the back of your mind, you might have allowed yourself to enjoy the oddly domestic meal.

You kept sneaking glances at him, trying to understand him, trying to understand why he'd been following you instead of just talking to you.

The whole thing felt like it had been ripped straight from the pages of one of the dark romances you sometimes found yourself reading when the twins wouldn't settle and you needed something to keep you from losing your mind. But being stalked by a relative stranger was not as appealing in real life as it was on the page. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more you had to wonder what he'd seen in his week of surveilling you.

You got it. At least, some small part of you understood. Billy had money. A lot of money. The kind of money that probably came with a long list of dishonest people looking to take advantage. And the cold, almost hostile emptiness of his home seemed to suggest that he was a guarded man, desperate to protect what was his.

But you weren't his and you weren't that sort of person. You had no interest in his money, only his time — and not for yourself, but for the twins. That was what got to you the most, that he'd let a week pass without even hinting that he wanted to be a part of their lives and it had hurt. You'd hurt on behalf of the twins who were still far too young to understand.

You didn't speak again until your plate was empty.

"So," you said, unable to keep the edge of exhaustion from your tone, "what does this look like to you?"

Billy leaned back in his chair, dark eyes fixed on yours. He didn't answer straight away, instead he considered the question. Assessed and calculated his answer, giving you a glimpse of his professional side.

"It looks like me and you, raising our children together," he said calmly but confidently.

You let slip a humourless laugh. "That's not an answer."

"Then ask a better question," he shrugged.

"Fine. How?" You asked. "How do you expect to go from this to... to that?"

"We go back to the start," he said, hitching up one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "We do things properly."

"Properly?" 

"Properly," he repeated, only continuing when he noticed your blank stare. "We get to know each other, spend time together — try to build something real."

Your eyebrows rose. "You want to... what? Date?"

His head cocked to the side and he gave you one of those smiles — the kind that had helped him win you over in the first place. "Why not?"

All you could do was stare at him while all the reasons started to list themselves in your mind. "Because we have children? Because we have separate lives and jobs and responsibilities, not to mention a ton of unresolved issues, starting with the fact you were stalking me."

"Surveilling," he corrected again.

"Semantics," you retorted. And that just made his smile grow wider.

"Fine," he shrugged, "but that doesn't change anything. They're my kids. And you — you're not doing this on your own. Not anymore."

You swallowed as an awkward lump lodged in your throat. Your lips parted, but you couldn't bring yourself to protest.

"You're exhausted," Billy continued, his voice softening. "I know this hasn't been easy for you. I just want to help."

Again, he was right. You were exhausted, and after your little display in the park there was no point in trying to deny it.

"We're connected now," he continued. "Whether you like it or not, you're tied to me."

"Do I get a say in any of this?"

"Of course," he said, then shrugged and smiled. "But I always get what I want in the end, and I'm willing to fight for this."

"Why?" It was the one thing that didn't make any sense — why now? Why hadn't he wanted this a week ago?

"Because those kids," he nodded towards the stroller by the floor to ceiling windows, "deserve a family. I can give them good lives and —"

"And you don't think I can? Is that it? You don't think I can give them a fancy life like yours?" Your voice grew louder with each word and, by the end of it, you were on your feet.

Without another word you stalked away from the table towards the twins. You had half a mind to just take them and leave, but the thick curtain of white beyond the window reminded you why you couldn't. The storm was definitely getting worse and, as pissed off as you were, you couldn't risk trying to get home.

Connor squirmed, his eyes open and staring up at you as he let out a gurgle. It was enough to bring a faint smile to your lips, despite the circumstances.

"Is it really so bad?" Billy's voice sounded from somewhere behind you. "The thought of this; a life with me in it?"

Was it?

There had been a point where you had wanted to try, a moment just before he walked out that hotel room where you felt a genuine sense of loss. You had wanted to try, but it had seemed impossible at the time.

"I know you don't understand why I... followed you but, before that, in the Hamptons, did you not even think that maybe —"

"Did you?" You asked, not wanting to let him finish the thought. "Seemed like you couldn't get out of there quick enough."

"That's not what happened. You know that's not what happened."

You turned to find him perched on the sofa, arms folded across his chest. You didn't say anything, you just stared at him and waited for him to continue.

"I asked to see you again. I wanted to see you again," he said, trying and failing to keep his tone neutral.

"And if you had seen me again?" You prompted. "If I'd told you I was pregnant as soon as I knew? What then? Would you have wanted me to keep them?"

"That isn't fair," he said, standing and giving up on trying to keep the sharpness from his voice. "Just because I didn't want kids then, doesn't mean I don't want them now that they're here. You're the one who chose to do things this way. You're the one that didn't give me a choice."

"But you're saying you wouldn't have wanted them if you'd known?"

You weren't sure why you were forcing the argument, or why it felt so important that you won. In fact, you understood what he was saying all too well. You'd spent the length of your pregnancy second guessing yourself, questioning if you even wanted children, but the moment you'd laid eyes on the twins, you'd fallen in love. Billy hadn't been given time to think about it or even come to terms with it, you'd just left the photo for him and turned his life upside down.

"No, that's not —" he let out a frustrated sigh, then shook his head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that they're here now and I want to be in their lives. I want to be in your life."

"Why?" You asked again, emphasising the word. None of it made sense to you — him wanting to be in the kids lives, you could understand. But wanting to be part of your life?

"Christ, are you really that insecure? I like you. I liked you from the moment I met you."

"You liked that I was easy, that I went along with you little fantasy —"

"My fantasy? Funny because I remember you being pretty eager, and —" he bit off whatever he was going to say and forced a breath, irritation on his face quickly replaced by an unreadable mask. "I liked that you were funny, and I liked the way you smiled at my stupid jokes. I told you, I don't get moments like that very often..."

You wanted to snap back, wanted to keep pushing because — actually, you weren't even sure why. Some part of you still felt raw, wounded by the way he left you that morning and the other night in your apartment, and you wondered if walking away was the only thing he knew. You didn't want to let him into your life only to have him leave you...

But what if he was telling the truth?

What he really did like you?

You couldn't help but think back to your first kiss, the way he'd told you that you deserved to be happy, to be worshipped. Heat licked through your core at the memory, unwanted and unbidden.

Turning again, you glanced down at the twins, then at the snow storm raging outside. You let the silence drag on — not for any malicious reason but simply because you didn't know what you were expected to say to him.

Minutes passed before he spoke again.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable? I need to head downstairs."

You turned. "You're going out?"

"No, I'm just going to see if I can rustle up somewhere for the kids to sleep."

Suddenly there was a weight in your stomach. Why hadn't you thought of that? You were so caught up in him and everything he'd managed to make you feel in the last few hours that it didn't even cross your mind that there was nowhere for the twins to sleep.

"There's a couple of families in the building, I'm sure someone will have something we can borrow for the night," he continued, already moving back towards the elevator. "The spare room is through there, feel free to help yourself to anything you need."

Before you could think of anything to say, he was gone.

Alone in his frankly massive penthouse, you felt lost, like you didn't belong. But you couldn't dwell on your own discomfort, not when he'd reminded you that the children had needs. They'd been in the stroller for far too long. That was the first issue you decided to deal with.

You gave them one last glance before heading into the spare room to look for anything that might make them a little more comfortable, and returned a few minutes later with some cushions and a thin blanket.

By the time Billy got back, some twenty minutes later, you'd created a safe little nest for the twins on the sofa, and were watching them wiggle about. In his arms he had two basket beds and a pack of diapers. He shrugged you off when you asked where he'd gotten them, and you decided not to press the issue. You didn't want to think about him going door to door and explaining your situation to his neighbours.

Connor sucked on his hand while Chloe kicked her legs around, but both were happy and content, and you allowed yourself to relax beside them. Billy placed a mug of coffee in front of you, and perched on the other side of the wrap around sofa. You kept your focus on the babies, while his fixed on the windows and the world beyond.

"Tell me about them?" He asked after ten minutes of silence, still nursing his coffee mug.

"What do you want to know?"

“Anything. Everything. What they’re like, what they love...”

Your heart gave an uncomfortable squeeze at the near-desperate look in his eyes. He really wanted to know. And, maybe, after everything, it shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did.

You reached for your coffee and took a slow breath. “Well, Connor is the fussy one — he’s already figured out exactly when it’s feeding time and if I’m even a minute late...” Your lips tugged into a smile, even though the little boy had a habit of making your life a hundred times harder. “And Chloe is... intense...”

“Intense?” He repeated, barely holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, sometimes she’ll just look at you and it’s like she can see right down to your soul, and when she looks at Connor, he settles... it’s like he just knows that he’s safe when she’s around.”

He sat and listened as you continued, telling him all the little things you’d come to learn about the twins since their birth. You told him about their favourite toys and how they both loved listening to music. By the end of it, he was smiling just as much as you were.

“And you?” He asked, his voice turning cautious. “How have you been since that night?”

You couldn't remember the last time someone had asked after you and wanted to know what you had been through. And you… you'd tried not to think about it.

“It… it hasn't been easy,” you answered with a slow breath. “But that's twins for you…”

“Don't do that,” he said. “I want to know.”

“It was hard, Billy. Parts of it were awful.” You felt bad for thinking it, let alone saying it. In the months since giving birth, you'd actively tried not to think about it. It caused a tightness in your chest when you remembered the months of discomfort and sickness, and the constant worry that something would go wrong.

“They were premature?” He asked, but you could tell he already knew the answer.

“Twins usually are…” again you trailed off but, this time, Billy held your gaze, expectant. “I was sick a lot, especially for the last three months. I had to cancel some jobs... couldn't even get out of bed some days..."

"I'm sorry. I should've been there, I should've —"

"You weren't there because I didn't want you to be."

"I could've been," he said, running fingers through his hair in what you assumed was annoyance at himself. "I thought about tracking you down so many times... I thought that if I could see you, if I could have one more night with you, then I could maybe get you out of my head once and for all."

"Billy..." you said softly, almost a warning — but what you were warning against, you didn't know.

Heat blazed across your cheeks, heart hammering in your chest as some part of you dared to hope that it was all true, that Billy wanted you.

"That night — that morning, when it was just the two of us — it wasn't enough," he said, sitting forward a little. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I'm not going to push you for an answer now, but I want you to think about it, about what I said earlier."

"Fine, I'll think about it," you conceded. "But I'm not making any promises. If you want to be in the twins' lives, then I won't try to stop you but my life... my life is mine, Billy, and I get to choose who I let in."

His only response was a nod, and the pair of you drifted back into silence.

The rest of the evening was spent fussing over the babies. Billy held Connor for a little while and spent a few minutes trying to play peek-a-boo with Chloe, while you struggled to keep your eyes open.

You made your excuses at 9 and he helped you move the twins into the spare bedroom so you could get them ready for bed. As he left you, he pointed at the wardrobe and told you to help yourself if you needed something to sleep in. You picked a white shirt, telling yourself that it would make late-night feedings easier but, really, it reminded you of the one he'd been wearing the day you'd met.

The twins were put down and you quickly climbed into bed, too tired to even worry or wonder about the strange predicament that you'd found yourself in. You just closed your eyes and let sleep claim you.

A shrill cry tore you from sleep and you rolled over, eyes opening and expecting to find the familiar sight of your bedroom. Then you remembered where you were. With just the light of your phone, you looked down at the baskets beside your bed, somewhat surprised that it was Chloe and not Connor who had woken you.

You quickly lifted your daughter from her basket, blankets and all.

“Please don’t wake your brother,” you muttered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Chloe’s head. “I know it’s a strange place and you miss your crib, but we’ll go home soon.”

Chloe continued to fuss and wiggle in your arms, tiny limbs flailing in her blanket. 

Connor stirred in his makeshift bed but, before Chloe’s gurgles and cries could wake him, you left the room with her. It was dark out in the penthouse, the only light coming from the city beyond the floor to ceiling windows. You made your way towards them, silently appreciating the view as you tried to settle your daughter.

“Look at all the lights, Chloe,” you murmured softly, angling her so she could watch the twinkling lights through the snow that was still falling. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

She gave a cry and you quickly started rocking her again, shushing her and quietly begging her to go back to sleep.

“Is everything okay?” Billy's voice sounded behind you so suddenly that you started.

You didn't turn. “Fine. Chloe’s just fussing.”

Silence followed and, for a few moments, you allowed yourself to hope he'd gone back to bed. Then you heard soft footsteps behind you.

You felt the heat of his body as he stepped closer, stopping right behind you. When you didn’t move or ask him to give you space, Billy closed the gap. His arm tentatively slipped around you, fingers splayed against your stomach, and you let him urge you back against him. Silently, you told yourself it was because you were tired and not because you wanted to be held.

“We could have this,” he said quietly after a few moments, his head beside yours, chin lightly resting on your shoulder.

When you said nothing and made no effort to pull away, his head turned, burying his face in your hair and inhaling. A shuddered breath followed and his fingers flexed against your stomach. And, still, you stayed exactly where you were.

Emboldened, Billy nuzzled closer, pressing his lips to your neck.

A shiver ran up your spine as you remembered every little place those lips had touched you the day you met. Your cheeks burned when you remembered that Chloe was still nestled in your arms, but it still wasn’t enough to ask him to stop.

“I want you,” he murmured against your skin. “I want this. I want to be here for you and the twins.”

His hold on you tightened and, without thought, your head moved, offering more of your neck to him.

It was... fuck, it was nice. It had been so long since anyone had held you, longer still since anyone had made you feel special. In fact, he had been the last to make you feel much of anything. And, now that he was holding you again, you couldn’t help but think back to that morning in bed with him, dozing in his arms after the last time you’d had sex. You hadn’t wanted the moment to end, hadn’t wanted him to leave you.

“How do I know you won’t change your mind?” You asked, voice little more than a whisper. You told yourself that it was because of the sleeping baby in your arms but, really, you weren’t sure you wanted Billy to hear, never mind answer.

“How do I know that you won’t?” He countered, lips still peppering your neck with gentle kisses. “Just… just give me a chance. Let me show you how much I want this...”

Your head turned, this time angling towards him. Billy’s eyes caught yours and, for a breathless moment, everything around you fell completely still and silent. 

Neither of you moved for the longest time but, again, you found yourself thinking back to that night, about how he’d made you feel in such a short space of time.

There was no telling which of you closed the distance but, the moment his lips met yours, your eyes fluttered shut. It was a chaste and gentle kiss — a thing you hadn’t experienced with Billy before, a thing you might have once suspected him incapable of. Before you knew it, you were leaning back against him, indulging in the tenderness of the moment.

The gentle lick of his tongue over the seam on your lips had you parting for him, letting him deepen the kiss but, even then, it remained sweet and gentle. He was showing you how it could be, how he could be for you.

And... you wanted it. Against your better judgement, you wanted him, just as you had all those months ago.

It had been a rough few months. Lonely and scary. As much as you’d told yourself that you could manage, that you were fine on your own, it would have been a lie to say that you hadn’t wished for some support.

You melted against him, losing yourself in the warmth and comfort he was offering.

Then Chloe let out another cry.

You managed to bite back a sigh as you pulled from the kiss to look down at her.

"She must be hungry, I should..." you trailed off as Billy's arm slipped from around you.

"Okay," he said, offering the slightest smile through the gloom. "When she's settled we can talk, if you want."

There was an unspoken promise in the look he gave you before turning and heading back to his bedroom.

And, of course, you had no intention of following after him — it was too soon for that, and you had the babies to think about.

Only...

Twenty minutes later you found yourself outside his bedroom, the door left ajar, letting light spill out.

You took a slow breath and dared to nudge the door open. He was sitting in bed, sheets pooled on his lap, revealing his chest. You faltered at the sight and, a split second later, his eyes met yours. Heat flushed your cheeks as you froze, unable to turn and leave and not quite able to will yourself to close the distance. Billy's expression softened and he pulled the sheet to the side, patting the mattress beside him.

Your feet were moving before your mind had the chance to catch up. You didn't want to think about what you were doing or why, you just wanted the comfort that was on offer.

His arms were around you the moment you slipped into his bed, and you were pulled against him.

Everything you knew about him and everything you remembered from the night you'd shared had you bracing yourself, but the flurry of movement didn't come. Even as he laid you back and leaned over you, his movements were slow, cautious. Fingertips grazed your cheeks, and he stared down at you, taking in your face as if he was only just seeing you for the first time.

“What —” his lips swallowed the question before you could ask it.

You were grateful for his kiss, for him taking charge of the situation and keeping you from doubting yourself.

The kiss was slow but soon sparked into something entirely untameable the second you started pulling him closer, thighs parting to allow him between them. You sighed into the kiss as you felt the comforting weight of his body over you. Your fingers instinctively pressed into his back, wanting to hold him close.

But he didn't touch your clothes until he felt your fingers skim the waistband of his boxers. The shirt he'd given you to sleep in was pulled open so quickly that you briefly wondered if the buttons were still all intact.

Your heart threatened to stop when his lips pulled from yours and started to trail down your neck. You frantically tried to reach for the lamp, knowing what he'd find if he continued down your body.

The awkward flailing of your arms didn't go unnoticed and Billy's attention lifted from peppering kisses over your collarbone.

“What's wrong?”

The question alone had you tensing, your head falling to the side to avoid his gaze.

“What?” He asked again, voice softer as his fingers urged you to face him.

You blinked and swallowed hard around the lump in your throat. “I want to turn the light off.”

“Why?” His fingers tenderly caressed your neck, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

“I'm not… like I was that night,” you said.

You didn't want to explain every obvious way that your body had changed after months of carrying twins and the c-section you'd needed during the birth. You'd tried not to think about it, tried to ignore it every time you looked in the mirror, but you weren't sure he'd want you if he saw it all.

Billy stared blankly before his expression softened, finally understanding. 

“Do you really think that matters to me?” He asked. You didn't dare answer. “Look at me.” He lifted himself a little and you dared to glance down at his chest and the scars that littered his skin. “If you don't care about mine, why would I care about yours?”

A rhetorical question-- at least, you assumed it was, but then Billy stayed quiet, waiting for an answer.

“Because you're you,” you murmured. “You could have anyone you wanted…”

“I want you. I don't want anyone else,” he said simply and without hesitation. “Let me show you how much I want you...”

You didn't protest or try to reach for the lamp again as his lips returned to your collarbone, kissing down to the valley between your breasts. His lips were gentle, worshipping you, mindful of the fact you were sore from breastfeeding. 

“Fuck, you're perfect,” he muttered against your skin as he sank lower, spending at least a minute running his lips over the scar on your abdomen. “Every single inch of you.”

Your breath caught in your chest and it was a struggle not to let out a relieved sob and ruin the moment.

Billy must have sensed the effect that his words had had because he lifted his head to look up at you.

“I mean it. How could I think you're anything less than perfect when you made our two beautiful babies?”

Our. The world made it feel like the room was spinning around you. It made everything finally feel real. More than that, it stoked a fire inside of you, a burning need to have him, to keep him.

You relaxed and his lips were instantly on you again, kissing across your stomach before trailing his tongue around your navel in a teasing display of what was to come.

“I never got a proper taste last time,” Billy muttered as he sank lower, his head slipping between your spread thighs.

It was only when he pulled away your panties that you realised how wet you were. Heat filled your body as Billy swore and teasingly ran his finger through your arousal. Your hips jerked off the bed and into his touch, eager for more. And Billy didn't disappoint. 

His lips descended and he kissed you before spreading your folds with his tongue and staring to devour you. A keening sound spilled from you at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue grazing your clit. 

Billy began to devour you. You pressed your hand to your lips to stifle the moan that was desperate to escape you, still vaguely aware of the sleeping twins in the other room. He was like a man possessed, his lips and tongue worshipping you, and groaning as if he was the one rapidly approaching an orgasm.

He slid a finger inside of you as you started to come, pumping it in and out of the heat of your body, dragging you through one climax and towards the next. Your hips jerked off the bed, simultaneously desperate for more and seeking reprieve from the overstimulation. Each gasped breath you took was punctuated with his name, begging and pleading with him for more.

And more.

And more.

By the time he lifted his head and withdrew his finger, you were shaking. Sparks of pleasure shot through your body, and you almost worried that you'd never come down from the high he'd led you to.

But Billy wasn't done, and no part of you even considered rejecting him as he moved back over you, settling above you. In fact, it was you who pushed down his boxers and freed his cock. And it was you that stroked him to full hardness and led him between your thighs.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his lips mere inches from yours.

The words wouldn't come so, instead, you kissed him.

It was all the sign that Billy needed.

You weren't sure which of you moaned when he slid inside you, only that the sound was lost in your kiss. Once he was buried inside of you, Billy stilled. “Has there been anyone since me?” He asked in a low mutter against your lips

“No,” you managed to speak despite how overwhelmed you felt.

You didn't dare ask him the same in return.

Again, you caught him staring at you but before you could question it, he started to move.

It wasn't like the other times, it wasn't eager and playful, nor was it lazy. It was almost reverent, like he really was worshipping you. Every shift of his hips, every drag and thrust of his cock was measured, ensuring you felt every inch of him. He wasn't just fucking you, he was taking you apart piece by piece.

You'd never felt anything like it — hell, you'd never even known that sex could feel so good.

Your fingers trailed up and down his back, feeling the way his muscles shifted and flexed with every drive of his hips. Just like that night together, you found that you couldn't get enough of him. Even now, with him inside of you and pushing you to the heights of pleasure, you knew you'd always want more.

“Fuck, Billy,” you moaned mindlessly as you felt the pressure mounting inside of you.

His lips claimed yours — and that's what it was. A claiming. He was showing you that you were his and that nothing would ever feel as good as he did inside you. 

You hitched your thigh on his hip and Billy groaned into your mouth. The new angle allowed him to sink deeper, to claim even more of you, but you still wanted more. It had been months since you’d been touched, and his was the last touch you’d known. You wanted to feel like you had that morning before he’d left; boneless and wrung out, without a care in the world.

“Please...” you gasped.

He didn’t even have to ask what you needed, he just knew. The pace increased and your toes curled as the pleasure built inside of you. You came with a gasp and a moan, and the intensity of it was enough to have Billy tumbling over the edge with you. He swore as his pace stuttered and finally stopped, pressing his forehead to yours as he emptied himself inside you.

You were both left panting, clinging to each other and the moment that was slowly starting to ebb away.

When he rolled away, he pulled you against him, holding you as you fell asleep on his chest.

A/N : I'm genuinely fighting the urge to turn this into something darker than planned every time I write a new chapter 😂 Hopefully I'll be able to get the next part done by next week -- it's really hard to train a reactive dog when it's raining all the time (honestly, he's lucky he so cute) Also sorry that I'm so behind with comments and things over the last couple of months, I'm just exhausted lately.

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will hopefully be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list : @oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @marginailia @amelijamorozova

Chapter Two

His hands were sweating as he gripped the steering wheel.

His heart racing.

Two blocks from your apartment, he almost changed his mind and turned around to head home. It didn't feel real — it couldn't be real. He couldn't be a father. He just couldn't. So what game were you playing? What were you trying to pull?

He needed to know, needed to deal with whatever the fuck this was — because he couldn't be a father.

Your building was like every other in the neighbourhood but, for the first time in his life, Billy found himself staring, wondering if it was a good place to raise children.

It was... fine. Certainly no worse than some of the places he'd lived before Anvil first turned a profit. But, still, the thought persisted, worsening even as he stepped inside. There was no lock on the building door and no doorman to keep undesirables out (though in this case he knew he should be glad that there was no-one to keep him from you).

He checked the apartment number again and headed for the elevator — which, thankfully, seemed operational. He couldn't even begin to imagine how you'd cope with twins if the elevator didn't —

God, why was he thinking like that? Why wouldn't his mind just stop? This had to be some sort of scam. How could he of all people be a father?

Billy almost didn't notice the elevator ping or the doors opening, too lost in his own thoughts and busy reassuring himself that none of it was real. By the time he reached your door, he'd steeled himself, ready to call you out on your lies.

That lasted all of ten seconds — the time it took for him to knock on your door and for you to answer.

His heart gave an uncharacteristic stutter when he saw you, remembering the vibrant and beautiful woman he'd spent the night with all those months ago. In her place he found you looking tired, wearing leggings and an oversized hoodie, hair looking like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. The words died on his lips and you just stared at him, blinking back tears.

Silence hung between you for almost twenty seconds, until you finally spoke.

"I — I suppose you want to come in," you said, opening the door a little wider and standing aside.

He let his gaze linger on you as he stepped into your apartment, but then he found his attention wandering. It was small — tiny by comparison to his penthouse — and the door looked easy to breach. But it was warm and clean, furnished and decorated with little touches that were in line with what he knew about you.

"Do you want a coffee? I could —" you started to ask.

"No, I want answers." He didn't mean to sound so cold, so direct, but he wasn't about to get sidetracked.

You let out a slow exhale, clearly unprepared for this. "Okay."

With a nod of your head, you directed him into the sitting room and to the sofa. Billy cast the double bassinet beside the TV a wary glance before sitting. You remained on your feet for a few seconds before finally sitting, leaving plenty of space between yourself and him.

You didn't speak, you waited, letting him direct the conversation.

"What the fuck is going on?" He asked.

It was as good a place as any to start.

You took another slow breath and started to pick at your nails, barely able to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. There was a pang of guilt at turning up unannounced, but then he remembered that you had started it. If you hadn't wanted this then you shouldn't have left the photograph.

"Okay, well... firstly, I just want you to know that I don't expect anything from you. I just —"

"Can you get to the part where I have two kids?" He interrupted. "I thought you were on the pill — are you sure they're even mine?"

You pressed the cuff of your hoodie to your eye, and Billy immediately felt like an asshole.

"You're the only guy I've..." you didn't say it, but he knew enough to know what you were getting at. "But I fucked up... I was sick before the wedding — actually, I was sick most of the week leading up to it..."

"And?" He prompted, needing a clearer answer.

"Throwing up sick. I was stressed about the wedding, and all the jobs I had lined up... it didn't even occur to me that I'd been bringing the pills back up," your voice trembled as you explained.

"So, when we fucked the morning after the wedding..." he trailed off. You swallowed hard and nodded. "And you waited this long to tell me?"

"I was in Bali when I found out," you said, voice little more than a whisper. "I got really sick. Passed out — that's when I found out I was ten weeks pregnant. I thought it was all the travel and jetlag making me feel sick but..."

A soft gurgle from the bassinet pulled Billy's attention away from you, and his heart jumped into his throat.

"I wasn't sure if I wanted to..." with the babies in the room, you couldn't seem to bring yourself to finish the thought. "I didn't know what you'd say if I told you. I was scared that we wouldn't agree... scared that you'd think I'd done it deliberately..."

"So, why tell me? Why turn my life upside down?"

Again, you were silent — nothing like the snappy, smart women he'd taken to bed all those months ago, more like the awkward woman who'd pushed him into a supply closet. It weighed on him more than he thought it should. Despite everything, he didn't want you to be uncomfortable. He was there for answers, not to attack a new mother.

"I thought you deserved to know, but I didn't know how to tell you," you said, glancing at the bassinet. "I didn't want to just show up and force you to deal with it. And I — I didn't want you to think it was because I wanted anything from you."

You bit your lip, clearly thinking of what else to say, so he remained quiet, letting you think.

"In a few years, when they're old enough, they're going to want to know about their dad," you started again, "and if you never want to know them, I'd rather tell them that you're dead..."

"You'd lie to them? Why? Just so you don't have to tell them they were conceived during a one night stand?" He asked, not sure if he was annoyed or hurt by the implication.

"No, I'd lie to save them from knowing their father never wanted them."

Billy's guts started to coil, tying themselves in knots at the thought. It hit far closer to home than he thought it ever would. How was he better than his own parents if he just walked away from his children?

His head dropped into his hands, fingers slipping into his hair. He took an uncomfortable, ragged breath, trying to think it all through.

Could he just abandon them? Pretend they didn't exist and go on with his life?

Was it even the same as what his parents had done to him when the twins had you to take care of them?

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked. "What do you expect me to do? This isn't what I wanted."

"I don't expect anything from you," you said, tone sharpening. "I told you, I just wanted you to know. What you want is up to you."

Billy lifted his head to look at you again. "And how are you going to cope if I say I want nothing to do with them? Kids are expensive. Twins are —"

"I have some money saved," you interrupted before he managed to say anything regrettable. "I'll be going back to work in a few weeks, and I'm thinking about making a studio space here and doing some work from home. I don't need your money, I just wanted to give you an opportunity to be in their lives."

"And you expect me to —"

A cry came from the bassinet and Billy tensed, completely losing track of what he wanted to say.

You waited a couple of seconds but, when the crying didn't stop, you sighed and got to your feet. The knot in his stomach grew tighter as you stooped to scoop up a tiny, wiggling bundle. You shot him a gentle smile as you stood back to full height, cooing at the baby in your arms.

Billy wasn't sure when he got to his feet or took that first step, but he paused all movement when you angled the baby towards him.

"This is Connor," you said, rocking the baby in your arms. "His sister Chloe is still sleeping."

Connor and Chloe. Now that they had names — now that he knew he had a girl and a boy — it all seemed far too real.

"— the fussy one. He won't stay down..." you were still talking but he had no idea what you'd said. Until "do you want to say hello?"

You took a step forward and he took one backwards. Billy Russo, recon Marine sniper, was backing up like a fucking coward. But once he'd taken one step he couldn't help but take another. And another.

As he left your apartment he was sure he heard you say his name, but he didn't stop moving until he was back in his car, sweaty palms pressed against the steering wheel as he fought against the tightness in his chest and the roiling in his stomach.

Before starting the engine and pulling away from the curb, he made another call to Anvil, wanting all available information on you and the children.

The very next day, he started watching you. First from the roof of a building across the street — a perfect snipers nest to observe his target. He was looking for anything that might tell him why you were lying to him, anything to prove your dishonesty.

But you did nothing.

It was just a long day of watching you pace back and forth through your little apartment, first trying to settle one baby, then the other. It was endless. If he'd been feeling paranoid, he might have wondered if you somehow knew he was watching, and it was all just an act. But, no, that was a little far even for him.

He took the next day off work and continued to watch you, despite the cold weather. When you headed out, he followed you, watching as you got halfway around the grocery store before one of the babies started to fuss and you abandoned your shopping.

The next day, you took a trip to a coffee shop, where you got all of twenty minutes of respite before a screaming child had you leaving, embarrassed.

By the fourth day, Billy had given up on trying to catch you in some nefarious plot and, instead, found himself watching because he wanted to know if you were okay. He started to hope that the twins would settle and give you one peaceful day, but it seemed less and less likely with every day that passed.

You didn't reach out to him — didn't reach out to anyone as far as he could tell. It was just you and the babies. And, as the week drew on, he noticed all the little things that he'd missed that night in your apartment. You weren't just exhausted, you looked ill, your face thinner and your smile was nowhere near as bright as it had been the day you'd met.

The more he watched, the more he came to realise that you'd been telling the truth; you didn't want anything from him. You were going to do it all on your own.

Good. It made his life easier knowing that he could forget all about you and the twins.

... right?

He was a lot of things but Billy Russo was not cut out to be a father.

But still, day after day, he followed you. Watching as your struggles became more and more apparent. Watching until he just couldn't take it any longer.

He had been trailing you through Central Park, watching as you forced smiles for anyone who glanced at the double stroller or at the babies, until you finally found a quiet bench and sat.

Your head dropped into your hands for a few seconds, and Billy continued to watch from a distance until the first ear-splitting scream sounded from the pram. You tried soothing the child by pushing the stroller back and forth but the wails only got louder. Then you scooped up the crying infant and started to rummage in your bag for something.

Billy was moving the moment the bottle landed on the path and started rolling away from you. He reached it before you and — fuck, you were so exhausted that, when you looked up, it took a moment to even recognise him.

"Billy?" Your voice was quiet, weak.

He was at your side in an instant, ushering you back onto the bench.

Before he could think about it, his hand was on your cheek, his dark eyes staring into yours.

The baby was still crying but, for a moment, it felt like the two of you were totally alone, and Billy's heart gave an uncomfortable squeeze when he saw the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, lips parted like you wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come.

He moved on instinct — an instinct he didn't even know that he possessed until that moment— and took the crying bundle from your arms. And you let him. Without question or argument, you trusted him to pluck the screaming babe from your grasp.

That same instinct had him pulling the lid from the baby's bottle and holding the nipple to its lips. (He wasn't even sure which of the twins he was holding; it was just a bundle of  white blankets.)

The baby continued to wail, refusing the bottle.

"He's fussy, he... he won't take his bottle... he won't breastfeed, I — I don't know what to do..." You finally found your voice and Billy could hear the exhaustion in every syllable.

He.

Connor.

Billy was holding his son.

It maybe would have been more profound if it hadn't been for the tears wetting your cheeks and the infant's wailing.

"It's okay," he said softly, though he wasn't sure which of you he was talking to. He bounced Connor gently and kept the bottle near his lips, waiting until the baby finally latched on and fell silent.

The quiet lasted a second before it was replaced by an awful gasping sob from your lips.

"I'm sorry," you blubbed. "I just... he won't —"

"Its okay," Billy told you, barely able to look away from Connor now that he was feeding. He took a slow breath. "It's okay now, he's stopped crying, see?"

You scrubbed at your cheeks with your sleeve and glanced at the settled baby, then at Billy.

"How did you..." you started, sniffling. "You're here... why are you here?"

"I wanted to see if you needed any help."

It wasn't an answer, but you were in no frame of mind to question him. You just stared at him blankly.

"I thought you didn't want to —"

"I know," Billy interjected, glancing from you to Connor. "This — this is a lot to wrap my head around, but I... I don't want you to have to do this completely alone."

He wasn't sure where the sentiment came from, only that he meant it. Billy didn't know how to do any of this — hell, he didn't know what this really was — but watching you over the last week had made him realise that he didn't want you to struggle. For better or worse, they were his children too, and he couldn't just abandon them.

"I thought that I could..." you said, scrubbing your cheeks again. "I thought I could manage. You... you don't have to... if you don't want..."

Your words were muffled by the press of your sleeve against your mouth, as you tried to keep yourself from falling apart.

"It's okay," he said again. "I'm here now."

Again, you didn't question, didn't tell him that it was too late or that you didn't want him there.

Another sound came from the stroller and you visibly tensed, bracing yourself.

"Is she okay?" Billy asked as you leaned over the pram to check on Chloe.

"It's okay," you told the baby, barely paying Billy any mind, "Connor is... he's with his daddy."

The last part came out a half-choked whisper, and Billy couldn't blame you for it. His heart beat faster as you lifted another bundle from the pram, and held it to your chest. Billy watched as you got your daughter — his daughter — comfortable in your arms and pulled the comforter away from her face.

Chloe had dark eyes, just like Billy's, and any lingering doubt over the twins' parentage disappeared completely. It was impossible to tell if she was staring at him or looking up at the sky, but he wanted to think she was looking at him.

"She's beautiful," Billy said, before letting his eyes drop back to Connor. "They both are."

You smiled and nodded but, when you blinked, more tears started to fall.

"What?" He asked. You shook your head. "Hey, it's okay..."

"They're just... they're so small..." you said, voice trembling. "I never thought that they'd be so... so small and fragile... What if I break them? What if I can't —"

"It's going to be okay," he told you with a certainty that he couldn't explain. "They're going to be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"You will?"

Billy kept his eyes fixed on Connor. "Yes."

You were quiet after that, seeming to get lost in the relative silence once both babies had settled. A few more tears fell, but once both of the babies were settled and quiet, you almost allowed yourself to relax. (How often did you get moments like this, he wondered.)

If the weather had been nicer, he would have been content to stay there for as long as you wanted, but the first flakes of snow warned of an on-coming storm that he didn't want you getting stuck in. So, once Connor had finished his bottle, Billy stood and lowered the baby back into the stroller, then carefully took Chloe from you and placed her with her brother.

"Come on," he said, offering you his hand.

You didn't ask where you were going, you just allowed Billy to lead you from the park and towards his building. He remained by your side, guiding you, and occasionally found himself glancing down at the sleeping babies. It was surreal. Less than 24 hours ago, he never would have considered what he was doing, taking you home with him, but he wanted to get you somewhere warm and quiet.

He didn't question his desire to look after you or the babies — he tried not to think about much of anything, just his mission to get you out of the cold before the snow got worse.

"Come on," he said again as he helped you get the pram through the door and into his building, then resumed leading you towards the elevator. One of the babies stirred, and you tensed at the sound but, thankfully, it was nothing more that a sleepy gurgle.

The elevator pinged and the doors opened directly into the penthouse — but even that didn't get much of a reaction from you. You looked around nervously before deciding to slip off your boots, leaving them by the elevator.

He took your coat and ushered you towards the sofa, leaving the pram by your abandoned boots.

"What about —"

"It's fine, they're both still asleep," he said, urging you to sit down. "How do you take your coffee?"

You told him, but he lingered for a few seconds, making sure you'd stay put before disappearing towards the kitchen. When he returned he found you'd sunk back on the sofa.

Your fingers brushed against his as you took the mug from him, and Billy couldn't help but remember all the ways those fingers had touched him the night you'd met.

He'd been trying not to think about it but, well, it had been the best night of his life, and forgetting all about it would have been impossible. The truth was, when he'd left you that morning, he had wanted to see you again, but with your work it had just felt impossible.

He hadn't wanted to wait. He'd been selfish — wanting you right away, wanting you over and over. It had worried him just how much he had wanted you after that night. So, he'd let you go. Given up on what could have been.

Now he had a second chance. Now he was certain that you hadn't planned any of it, that you weren't trying to trick or trap him.

But, now, he also had two babies to think about, babies that he still wasn't sure he wanted.

Sitting next to you, Billy let out a slow sigh.

"When was the last time you had a full night's sleep?" Billy asked. Your only answer was a shrug.

He let it go, let you take a few sips of coffee, settling back on the sofa. He already knew the answer — if what he'd witnessed over the last week was anything to go by, you hadn't slept properly since before the twins were born.

"Looks like there's a storm on the way," Billy said after a few minutes of quiet, watching the flurry of snow falling beyond the window. "Maybe you should wait it out here for a little while..."

"Mhmm," you hummed.

When Billy looked back towards you, you were already half asleep, empty coffee mug hanging limply from your hand. He didn't say anything, didn't try to rouse you. He just watched as you slowly drifted off.

Certain you were asleep, he carefully scooped you off the sofa and carried you to his room. It hadn't been his plan when he'd brought you back here, but he was glad you were sleeping, and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, so he tucked you up in his bed and left you there.

Outside the snow continued to fall.

The babies slept for a couple of hours, giving him time to throw some pasta in a pan and make a start on dinner. And, more importantly, he had time to think about his next move. This was an opportunity he wasn't going to squander.

Everything was going great until Chloe started to scream. As quick as Billy was to pluck her from the pram and start rocking her, the outburst still woke you.

"What's —" you stepped out of his bedroom and stopped, looking around and trying to get your bearings.

You immediately started toward Billy when your eyes landed on him, arms outstretched to take the fussing baby.

"It's okay," Billy said, reluctantly handing over the infant. "I think she just needs changing."

You gave a sniff and nodded in agreement. "Right. Where can I..."

Again, you glanced around the penthouse, more alert and aware of where you were now you'd managed to sleep for a couple of hours.

"Bathroom is just through there," Billy offered, waving you to a door, and you wasted no time in disappearing through it, the diaper bag from the stroller over your arm.

While you were gone, he found himself watching Connor. The little boy's eyes were open and staring up at him, uncoordinated hands flailing and reaching for Billy. Connor had your eyes, but Billy could still see a shred of himself in the boy. He lowered his hand and let tiny fingers grip his thumb.

"It's going to be alright," Billy told Connor softly. "I'm going to make sure of it."

"Well, we should really get going," you said, pulling Billy's attention as you left the bathroom a few minutes later, Chloe settled in your arms.

"That's not a good idea," Billy said, nodding towards the window, where the flurry had started to become a storm. "Weather reports say it's getting worse out there, and I don't think you'll be able to get a taxi..."

"We can't just —"

"You can. I've already made dinner."

You faltered, halfway across the penthouse and stared at him. "You've made dinner?"

"I wasn't sure how long you were going to sleep," he shrugged.

"You should've woken me, I —" you fell silent when Billy sighed.

"You were exhausted and the kids have been sleeping," he said. "I thought you all needed the rest." You had no argument for that, and Billy could tell that the nap had done you and the babies some good. "It's just dinner — and it's better being stuck here where it's warm than trying to get back to Brooklyn."

You glanced towards the window warily before your shoulders slumped. It would be dangerous and stupid to take the kids outside in the middle of a snow storm, and there was no way you were going to make it home.

"Okay," you said reluctantly, then; "sorry... I didn't mean to fall asleep or —"

"It's fine. You needed some rest."

You looked down at Chloe, then back at Billy. "They need feeding..."

"Did you bring anything? I could —"

"No, I mean... I need to feed them."

Right. He got the message. You were breastfeeding. "You can use my room, and while you do that, I'll finish making dinner."

It took half an hour, and judging from the snatches of conversation he caught coming from the bedroom, the kids weren't making it easy for you. He wanted to go and see if you needed any help, but he didn't think you'd appreciate it. You needed space, needed to get used to the thought of him being around.

Instead, he busied himself with dinner, getting it ready for the moment you reemerged.

By the time you did, you looked ready to take another nap.

The twins were left in the stroller, content and sleepy again now that they had full bellies, and you were ushered towards the table. He poured you a glass of water and piled a healthy dollop of pasta on your place before dealing with his own.

"Help yourself," he said, waving a hand at the bowl of fresh Parmesan cheese and the plate of crusty bread.

"Never would've guessed that you could cook," you said and, for a moment, he saw a hint of the woman he'd met at that hotel in the Hamptons ten months ago.

Billy smiled as he reached for a piece of bread. "Not a lot, but I can cook enough to keep myself alive."

"Well, this is... it's nice. Thank you." Then, a beat later; "thank you for all of this."

" You don't have to thank me," he said, barely holding back a sigh. "I'm sorry. I should have found you sooner..."

"What?"

The tone of the conversation dramatically shifted, but Billy wasn't the type to beat around the bush. He needed to be open and honest with you, otherwise this would never work out.

"How did you know where we were?" You asked, starting to put the pieces together. "The park is huge, there's no way you just happened to bump into us..."

He took a slow breath. "I've been keeping an eye on you."

"What?" You straightened, eyes narrowing.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Billy said, keeping his tone neutral. He knew you weren't going to like what he had to say, but he wasn't going to treat you like an idiot. "When you told me that the twins were mine, I didn't believe you."

"So you've been following me?"

"Yes," he said simply. "I needed to know that you were being honest."

"Most normal guys would have just asked for a paternity test."

"I'm not most normal guys."

"No, you're — you're psychotic."

You glared at him, as if you were expecting the insult to cut. It didn't.

If anything, you'd hit the nail on the head. There was something wrong with him, some flaw in his genetics that had him doing terrible things — it was why he'd always been such a good Marine, such a good sniper. The target never mattered, just the end result.

"Maybe." He shrugged it off. When you moved to get to your feet, Billy reached across the table, grabbing your wrist. "Just... just hear me out."

"Why?"

"Because you said I could be in their lives."

"I said that and you walked out. Now I find out you've been stalking me and —"

"Surveilling," he corrected, letting go of your wrist when you settled down again. "I've been surveilling you."

"Call it whatever you want, I'm not —"

"You can't do this on your own," he said. When you looked like you were going to argue, he continued. "I get it, you're upset — I was upset when I found out that you'd been keeping the twins a secret from me for months."

"So you decided to follow me?"

He didn't bother to correct you again. "Look around. I wasn't born with any of this, I earned it. I didn't get to where I am today by just believing the best in people. We don't know each other and I need to be sure of you before I let you into my life."

"Let me into your life?" You asked, confused. "I asked for the kids, so you could be in their lives."

"I know," Billy sat back as he spoke, calm and in control, "but I don't want this to be some arrangement where I just see them on weekends, and you only hang around long enough to drop them off."

"Then what do you want?" You asked.

"You."

"What?"

"I've wanted you since the moment we met." It came out simple and casual, as if it wasn't causing his stomach to tie itself in knots.

"For sex, Billy. You wanted me for sex — and you got what you wanted and then some."

"I wanted to see you again after that night." Again, you looked ready to protest. "I'm not asking for you to decide right now, but I want to be honest with you. If I'm going to do this, I want to do it right. All I'm asking for is a chance. Just stay the night, get to know me..."

"Stay the night?" You repeated.

"Not like that..."

"Like what then?" You answered back. It shouldn't have bothered him that you thought sex was the only thing he wanted — after all, you'd been warned about him before you'd even met him — but Billy was trying, and he wanted you to know that.

"Like this. Just, stay and talk to me. Let me spend some time with them..."

You fell silent and every second that dragged by seemed to last a lifetime. Your eyes drifted to the window and the storm raging outside, and you sighed.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice..."

A/N : There was a version of this ending that got super dark 😂 but I decided against putting anyone through that. We'll be back with reader's PoV next week, so you'll get to see just what she thinks of all of this.

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