My Insatiable Sheikh: Hired Pregnancy and College Bully Romance (The Instalove Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  My Insatiable Sheikh (The Instalove Series, #1)

  About the Book

  My Insatiable Sheikh: | Hired Pregnancy and | College Bully Romance

  Dear Ms. Teller,

  Chapter One

  Dear Ms. Teller,

  Chapter Two

  Hey...it's me, Johnny.

  Chapter Three

  Dear Ms. Teller,

  Chapter Four

  Dear Ms. Teller,

  Chapter Five

  Hey pumpkin.

  Chapter Six

  Hi Story.

  Chapter Seven

  Hey Siri.

  Chapter Eight

  Hi Anonymous.

  Chapter Nine

  Welcome back, Anonymous.

  Chapter Ten

  Hey Dad.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hey Siri.

  Chapter Twelve

  See you in twenty.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Where are you?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Verification of Pregnancy Test

  Chapter Fifteen

  Verification of Pregnancy Test

  Chapter Sixteen

  Your sister texted me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hey.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Your wife's here.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Author's Note

  My Controlling Sheikh

  The Greek Billionaire | Romance Serials

  I should have told him the truth from the beginning. It was my twin who took his money and agreed to bear his child. But now it's too late.

  I HAD MY LIFE ALL MAPPED out. Graduate in three months, find a stable job, and get Dad to live with me in sunny Florida. That was the plan...until my evil identical twin struck again, and I ended up at the beck and call of a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who wouldn't even give me his name.

  Even worse, I'm obliged to lose my first time to this arrogant piece of sheikh, and all the other times after that...until I'm carrying his heir.

  The lawyers tell me I'll get sued if I don't do as my new lord and master says, but I don't care. The sheikh is a world-class jerk, a selfish and cruel bully who's used to taking what he wants, no matter the cost. He might think he has me trapped, but I'm ready to fight him tooth and nail...until I find out about Dahlia hooking up with the guy I've been secretly crushing on for years.

  That's when everything changes, and I'm thinking maybe...maybe instead of solving this mess I'm in, I should just embrace the chaos and see where it takes me.

  I bet my sister would absolutely go insane with rage once she finds out her plans have backfired, and my future baby daddy is a gorgeous, powerful sheikh who's going to keep me in luxury for the rest of my life.

  It's the perfect plan of revenge, and it's a win-win situation for both the sheikh and me.

  It should've worked, too...but everything goes horribly and heartbreakingly wrong instead.

  About the Book

  "You remember, when I spoke of our circumstances as a gift of fate?"

  I nodded again.

  "It is something I truly believe in. You and I have extremely different lives, and it could only be destiny that have placed you in my path. The first time we met—-"

  "Dahlia's interview?"

  There was that flash of his lip curling again, and I had to bite back a smile.

  "No. She was merely the means for me to meet you, but other than that, she has no other importance. You, however...when we met, there was this instant and inexplicable connection between us—-"

  "Hate at first sight?" I quipped.

  The sheikh smiled. "Actually, yes. There was something about you that made me feel this rare desire to let all of my walls down..."

  To love you, was what I secretly hoped he'd say, but instead...

  "To be cruel to you."

  My jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

  "I have never felt anything like it with anyone before."

  "Are you fucking serious?"

  "It is amazing, habibti, the way you bring out the worst in me."

  "God, you are such an asshole."

  "It's why I knew. You were indeed the woman I have been looking for."

  "Because I make a great punching bag," I asked sarcastically, "and an outlet for all of your evil ways?"

  "Do not forget" he said solemnly, "about being the oven for my bun."

  I couldn't help laughing even though I knew he was only pretending to have gotten the idiom wrong, and despite all those horrible things he had said...

  I actually found myself believing all those things he said about leading a severely restrictive life and discovering this instant connection between us...

  But more importantly...

  He made me feel special.

  Different.

  And it was the right kind of different, even if it involved him actually wanting to bully me and no one else.

  "You are alright now?"

  The sheikh's soft tone caught me off guard, but it was the flash of emotion in his eyes that had me capable of only nodding weakly in response. Shit. That couldn't be what I thought it was. Could it? I mean, even if we did have a connection, and I was, as he said, different...that flash in his eyes couldn't be the fucking L-word. Right?

  "Then may it be my turn to ask a question?"

  His words were the distraction I needed, and I said quickly, "Fire away." No doubt, since he had just opened up about his personal life, he wanted me to do the same thing, too. And that was fine. Whatever he asked, I'd answer, whether it had to do with Dahlia, Greg, or—-

  "Did you do as I asked?"

  "Huh?"

  "The panties, habibti."

  Oh.

  Shit.

  I had forgotten about that.

  "Did you wear them to class? Did you stay wet for me?"

  My Insatiable Sheikh:

  Hired Pregnancy and

  College Bully Romance

  by Marian Tee

  Copyright 2020 by Streak Digital Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

  Dear Ms. Teller,

  We are pleased to inform you of your successful admission into the gestation program, for which over a hundred aspiring candidates have also been interviewed and screened. For your convenience, we have outlined below key points of Contract RE-058-ST.

  - Your participation in the activities requisite for procreation, the frequency and schedule of which shall be exclusively determined by the employer

  - Your compliance with all nutritional, medical, and health programs which are deemed ideal for procreation.

  - Your relocation to a domicile specifically designed to suit your prenatal needs, and for which the employer shall have unlimited access to.

  - Your discretion in all matters concerning and related to this agreement.

  Also enclosed with this letter is a copy of the aforementioned contract. Although all terms and conditions are deemed final, you may submit a letter of reconsideration for any revision or amendment that you would like the other party to consider.

  You are kindly requested to present yourself a
t our office on Monday, ten o'clock in the morning.

  Our secretary is available to assist you by phone or email for any additional questions you may have.

  Sincerely,

  Al-Dimashqi & Ghazali LLC

  Chapter One

  Pick up, Dahlia. Pick up. But my twin's phone only rang endlessly, just as it had been doing for the past twenty minutes. Wherever she was, the evil woman was probably laughing her head off. There was nothing that made her happier than being able to throw me under the bus, and if I had to sum up my life ever since I stupidly reached out to my twin, that was it really.

  Dahlia doing what she could to cause trouble, just because.

  When I think about it now, I just want to bang my head against the wall and keep at it until my skull cracked. Maybe afterwards, I'd really learn my lesson, and never be stubborn again.

  It was on my sixteenth birthday that my dad - a soft-spoken, slightly overweight accountant with a geeky passion for all things Star Wars - told me the truth: my mother was not dead, and I had a twin.

  Your mom left me because I failed to keep my promise. I told her I could give her a comfortable life, but I failed her, and she couldn't take it.

  Greg had also taken pains to make it clear to me how Judith had grown up really poor, and how kids in their school had bullied her for being born on the wrong side of the fence. That's the only reason why, Greg had emphasized, money had become this huge chip on Judith's shoulder.

  And at that time, I had believed him.

  Another truth bomb he had dropped on me on the same day was how Judith had once reached out to him (You were seven at that time, I think?) - and asked for a divorce. It was only then he had found out how my mom had changed her name to Portia Singleton (All legal, too, since your mother has that sort of connections, from her old hood.) and was about to marry a wealthy real estate broker who was willing to adopt my twin.

  Since being sixteen also meant being silly optimistic, I had ignored all of the red flags and jumped on the first plane to Boston, thinking that "Portia" and my twin would love to get to know me.

  They didn't.

  The woman who used to be known as Judith thought I was too "rough" to be her daughter while Dahlia, well...just like everyone else, I had fallen for her sweet butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth act at first. She had this incredible way of making you feel protective towards her, and that first day we met, I truly thought I could happily take on the role as her big sister in life (I was older than her by seven minutes).

  But then...the first bag of shit hit the fan.

  Dahlia, upon learning I was down with chicken pox and ordered to stay home for a week, had actually flown to Wyoming and went straight to my school to impersonate me. When I was finally able to attend classes again, my friends were no longer my friends while the guy I liked had told the other jocks that I had offered to give him head after school.

  I had been hysterical, of course, and when Dahlia refused to answer any of my messages or calls I had called Portia, crying and begging for her to help me make my twin confess to what she did. And well...that's when I learned she no longer thought of me as her kid.

  My husband doesn't know about you, and I prefer it to stay that way. I'll ask Dahlia to leave you alone, but you're crazy if you think I'd force my daughter to say sorry. Never contact us after this. If you bother my family again, I'll call the cops on your father.

  Greg had broken down in sobs when I confronted him about his ex-wife's threats. I was desperate, he told me. Portia had been so very unhappy, and they had been fighting a lot about money. To keep my mom from leaving him, he had doctored the books at his old company and reaped several thousand dollars for his effort.

  I thought it would make her stay, Greg admitted in shame, but instead I had given her the means to leave me. Even worse, he had actually confessed the truth to Portia, which she had then used to blackmail him into agreeing to a quiet divorce.

  I was able to return the money to the company, my dad had finished heavily, but Portia knows that my boss is the type to still go after me if he ever found out the truth.

  I transferred schools after that, and Dahlia had gotten away scot-free for ruining my life. Greg never learned what happened either. There wasn't any point telling him. He'd only blame himself for being a fool, and while he was a fool, he was also my dad, and I loved him.

  Honestly, even after the other little things Dahlia's done over the years to make my life hell, a small part of me still wished she'd change, and that I could be free to love her - and even Portia, too - without feeling like an idiot.

  But God...

  They made it so hard.

  And this latest attempt of my twin to sabotage my future?

  This one really took the cake, and unlike all the other messes she had landed me in, this one...

  "Ms. Teller?"

  The sudden intrusion in my thoughts made me look up, and I was startled to see that the glossy-looking woman behind the concierge desk was now standing in front of me.

  "The sheikh has just finished with his meeting."

  I blinked at her words. Sheikh? What the hell did a sheikh have to do with my - err, I mean Dahlia's contract?

  "He's ready to see you now." She gestured towards the carpeted hallway. "If you could please follow me?"

  The hallway was lengthy, with rows of unlabeled offices behind frosted glass walls lining each side. Everything about this place screamed 'anonymous', and I wondered if that also meant...illegal? Maybe everyone here were big-time crooks?

  "The sheikh's office, Ms. Teller..." A slight tap on the steel handles had the heavy double doors automatically swinging open, and she made another one of those gestures of hers to indicate that I was to feed myself to the lion enter the room.

  I forced my legs to work, but then I heard the doors closing as soon as I had taken a step inside, and my courage quickly took a nosedive.

  Shit.

  I knew I should raise my head by now, but I couldn't. I needed just a bit more time to compose myself and gather my thoughts.

  I had read the contract from page one to eight, read it so many times that I had needed medicated drops afterwards for eye strain. I had stupidly hoped to stumble across even the smallest loophole, but the contract was written in such a way that it was plain as day. No attempt to deceive or manipulate had been made. Everything from benefits to punitive conditions had been succinctly stated, each and every clause precisely structured, no ifs and buts about anything that there was no chance...

  "Please come forward, Ms. Teller."

  Hearing the "sheikh" speak yanked me out of my thoughts, and I was disoriented for a moment. I had expected him to sound like some dirty old fuck, with a voice that was hoarse and disgustingly oily, but instead what I heard was a faintly accented voice that was almost like a purr in its smoothness. It was almost sinfully perfect really, a voice I could easily think of belonging to someone who was practiced in the art of seduction, and the thought had me temporarily forgetting my fears.

  I looked up, curiosity getting the best of me, and as my gaze flew across the huge-as-hell office, the first thing I saw was his desk: a massive, granite work of art that was so imposing it gave off serious altar vibes and almost had me genuflecting. It was the kind of desk only the super-wealthy could afford, and the realization made me swallow hard.

  Guess that confirms it, I thought numbly. My so-called employer was a sheikh, ergo he was loaded, and thus able to afford bringing all of his sick fantasies to life.

  I wanted to make a run for it then and there, but I forced myself to stay still. Delaying the inevitable was pointless, and God knows how much I hated doing anything without a purpose. The only way out of this mess was for me to say that I had changed my mind, and since I always believed that there was never a better time than now...

  I let my gaze move further...

  A black silk tie.

  A slim-fitting wool suit, but this time in dark blue.

  And finally�
�-

  My eyes widened.

  What the hell?

  While I'd rather go to my grave rather than say this out loud, the "sheikh" was actually, well...let's just say he didn't look dirty or sick. At all.

  Instead, he was jaw-dropping, head-turning beautiful, with his raven black hair, flashing dark eyes, and cheekbones that would make even Maleficent green with envy.

  Everything about this man begged to be drooled over, every inch of him just too breathtakingly sexy for words that I almost wished I really had signed up to become his baby mama.

  But since I didn't—-

  "I'm sorry," I said baldly.

  "For what?"

  "I know you have certain expectations, but I'm afraid I've, um, changed my mind."

  A smile unfolded over his lips. "Is that so?" Dark eyes swept over my form in leisurely fashion, and I couldn't help sucking my breath in at being so blatantly scrutinized. The way his gaze lingered on my mouth had me unconsciously wetting my lips, and when his gaze moved farther down—-

  Don't let it get to you, Smarter Side of Me warned.

  But it was too late.

  My breasts started feeling heavy and swollen, and I found myself fighting to keep the heat off my cheeks when my nipples started to pucker. The SOB was still staring at my tits, and I just wished...I really wished I could say he made my skin crawl. God, if only. But no, it was just the fucking opposite. The way he was looking at me, it was almost as if he were saying...

  I own you.

  I can play with you any way I want.

  And you'd like it.

  Cocky, cocky piece of sheikh. It made me want to yank one of my shoes off and throw it at his face, and the only reason I didn't was because we both knew...

  Those words were also the truth, dammit.

  The "sheikh" (yes, I'm still not completely buying he was one, even though he did rather look the part) finally lifted his gaze back to my face.

  "Something's different about you."

  Naturally, I couldn't help thinking.

  "I've watched your interview."

  "What do you mean you watched my interview?" Did this mean Dahlia had never met him?