Hershey's Kiss: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance Novel by Raven Ferrari Read Free Book Online Page A

options and permutations, but she couldn’t come up with a reasonable guess as to what it was. Hopefully it’s that new set I was eyeing at Tiffany’s last week. She thought.
     
    After the Boulder Corp press conference, Brandon and a few journalists and executives dined at the same restaurant which connected to the hotel where they stayed. Brandon sat at the bar by himself, eating his turkey club sandwich. A blonde haired, blue-eyed reporter walked up to him and struck up a conversation…
     
    “A turkey club seems kind of plain for a billionaire like yourself, don’t you think?”
     
    Brandon turned over his shoulder to see owner of the sweet voice that was addressing him. He was immediately taken aback by this attractive woman’s figure. Brandon could tell that plastered on a bed with her legs spread in the sky, she would be absolutely gorgeous. He also knew why she was talking to him. Every time Brandon surfaced for the public eye to see, some woman, somewhere, would express interest in him. This was doubly true after the media had a field day over his sexy hip flexor muscles. Brandon knew exactly where this conversation would go, and he looked at the reporter again to decide if it wanted to go there.
     
    True, she had delicate rouge lips which looked very delicious. Her plump ass seemed to magically hold itself up in midair; It was a well toned and sculpted work of art, as well as an incredible feat of engineering. This reporter’s knees were clamped together just a little bit too tightly. She was doing it on purpose. It was obviously a well trained behavior from a woman who’d long learned that it was better to look innocent. Yes… She was definitely trying to look innocent while simultaneously failing at it miserably. This was a textbook madonna whore before him. If this was her game -- if she had reached her station in life by playing mind games with horny beta males -- then Brandon was sure that she would be a  superficial waste of time. All surface, no substance.   Brandon thought. This was a hot girl, not a beautiful woman. She certainly wasn’t the woman from his premonition.
     
    When Brandon thought of sweet Julianna or Kinisimere, he saw women who were more than neatly organized pieces of flesh. Julianna was gorgeous, but she was also a highly intelligent sales representative who sold Boeing jets. Kinisimere was earthy, spiritual, and highly intuitive. She could see straight through Brandon’s soul. Both possessed a natural beauty that made makeup redundant. This reporter, on the other hand, was so completely constructed by makeup, clothes and shoes, that if those things were removed, there would be no woman left.
     
    Also, she wore Paris Hilton perfume. What type of basic bitch shit was that? In the three seconds which it took for Brandon to decide whether he would let this woman sit with him, chat with him, drink with him, and go back to his hotel room to fuck him, Brandon decided that he wanted more from a woman. Far more. His soul yearned for a type of completion that this blonde-haired, blue eyed reporter simply couldn’t provide. So, when she got no response to her icebreaker and tried to shimmy her way into his dinner plans a second time, Brandon already had a great one liner prepared to shut her down with.
     
    “Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked.
     
    “I’m married.” he responded. “Happily.”
     
    * * *
     
    Hershey Alexander had just accepted a new position working as an au pair for the famous billionaire couple that seemed to be plastered all over the media these days. She had no idea what she was in for. She just knew that their son had “special needs” (something the media didn’t know about) and somehow they expected her to “work her magic”. But it wasn’t magic. Hershey Alexander just had a knack for children. She understood their needs, and she understood that adults weren’t particularly sensitive to these needs.
     
    She was nervous. So nervous.