by Katie Reus
Thatcher had apparently seen the news about his engagement. He wanted to talk about getting a prenup together or something outlining his and Alena’s parenting schedule if they didn’t get married. “I said I’d take it under advisement.”
“I know what that means coming from you. I’ve seen richer men—”
“Roger! I’m done with this conversation. If I want your advice or need your services, I’ll call you. You’ve done your due diligence, so rest easy.” Andre knew that Roger came from a good place, but sometimes he was overzealous. Which was usually a good thing.
Roger responded but Andre barely heard what he said as Alena stepped into the room.
“I’ve gotta go,” he muttered, hanging up. Wearing a sheer cover-up over a two-piece bathing suit, Alena was like the best present. One he wanted to slowly unwrap, savor.
Her hand went protectively to her bump as she watched, her expression cautious. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You can interrupt anytime you want.” He’d told her that she had free rein of his house and he hadn’t been kidding. It was also why he’d left his office door open; he’d wanted her to know she was welcome. He should have kissed her in that damn parking lot last night, but he’d pulled back, been unsure. Then when they’d gotten back to his place, the moment had passed. And she’d gotten sick. He hadn’t thought she’d be feeling remotely into anything. She was the only woman who’d ever made him feel off-balance—even before he found out she’d lied to him. She was so different from his deceased wife, from any woman he’d ever known. “Is everything okay?” he asked, standing to round the desk.
“Yes…” She took another hesitant step inside, so unlike the confident woman who’d been in his house before. In this very office.
He tried not to think of what they’d done on this very desk, but failed. His gaze fell to her little bump and he smiled. “It’s really visible now.”
“Yeah…” She took another step inside, her toenails painted a neon shade of blue. “I just wanted to see if…if maybe we could have Declan and Nika over for dinner? Not that I think I’ll be staying here long-term, but just if Brady isn’t caught.” Her cheeks were red, but he was pretty sure it was from embarrassment this time. He was trying to figure out why she could possibly be embarrassed.
“Of course, anytime you want to have them over.” He took a step closer, watched the way her breath hitched—and his gaze fell to her breasts. Pregnancy definitely agreed with her. Damn. Her nipples were tight little buds against the thin material of her bathing suit and sheer cover-up. “Do you need anything else?”
Her gaze fell to his mouth for a long moment and she cleared her throat. “Are your security guys inside or outside?”
“Ah, both.”
“Oh, okay then…” She took a step back, but he moved, lightning fast, shutting the door.
He didn’t want to crowd her, but he wasn’t letting her get away from him this time. Not when he’d just now realized why she was here. He turned to face her. “Why are you here, in my office?” he asked, knowing the answer. Or at least guessing. He wanted to hear her say it.
“I…” Her eyes were on his mouth again, all heavy-lidded and hungry. She ever so slightly arched into him, her body language clear enough even if she wasn’t vocalizing.
Ah, hell. “If we do this, you know I’m not letting you go.” Alena was his. Might as well make that clear. He didn’t want secrets or second-guessing between them.
She swallowed hard again. “I think we’re probably crazy to even do this, but I don’t care. Andre, I want to see where this thing between us can go. For real. And if it doesn’t work out, at least we’ll know.”
“It’ll work.”
She let out a nervous laugh as he stepped closer. “You sound so sure.”
“I make hard decisions every damn day. And the only decision I’ve ever regretted was when I decided not to go after you four months ago.” She hitched in a breath as he leaned down. The scent of her wrapped around him, making him lightheaded. He brushed his lips gently over hers, his entire body jolting at the contact. “We’re not doing this on my office floor. Not this time,” he murmured against her, his hand cupping her baby bump. When he scooped her up, she let out a little yelp of surprise but curled into him. Warmth spread through him that her instinct was to turn into him, not away from him.
It wouldn’t take him long to make it upstairs to his bedroom. To the bed he’d shared with her before.
This time it would be different. There were no lies between them. And never would be again.
Chapter 10
Andre carried Alena up the stairs, moving as fast as he dared with her. With her being pregnant, he was being more careful. Maybe this whole situation was ill advised—even stupid. But he didn’t care. He was going with his instinct. His instinct had never let him down before. He’d made millions on his own before he was thirty and now he was pushing forty. Alena was more important than any money, any business deal, and he had to trust that this was the right thing.
Even thinking of walking away from Alena…he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life. He hadn’t been lying to her earlier either. Letting her go before—kicking her out of his life—he’d regretted it from the moment he’d done it.
Even in his anger, he’d wanted to go after her. Because while he might not have known all the details, he’d seen the pictures of her parents’ bodies. He’d seen what his father had done. He should have gone after her right then and demanded a full explanation. It could have saved them months of being apart.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his security guys at the top of the stairs, but he ignored the man. He ignored everything but the delicate, complex woman in his arms.
She’d come to his office for sex. Maybe more, but it was impossible to know.
Then she’d gotten nervous. Probably because she thought he would reject her. The very notion was laughable. Which told him she didn’t fully understand the power she held over him. That was just as well.
Inside his room, her eyes widened. “It’s different.”
“Yeah.” He’d had his bedroom completely redone in an attempt to remove memories of her. It hadn’t worked. The woman was ingrained in his psyche. He remembered exactly how she felt under his fingertips, how she’d arched and moaned into his caresses. How she tasted… And he didn’t give a shit about the decor. His erection pushed against his pants but that would have to wait. For now.
Setting her on the edge of the bed, he leaned down, placing his hands on either side of her hips. “Lift your arms,” he ordered, not backing up to give her any space.
It was clear his order surprised her, but she did as he said.
Grasping the hem of the sheer cover-up—that did nothing to hide her lean, toned body underneath—he pulled it over her head. The sight of her little bump, completely bared, made his heart skip a beat. He might have had a shitty father, might have done some shady things in his life. But this was one thing he would never regret.
For a moment, it looked as if she wanted to cover herself up, then she clutched onto the edge of the bed, her knuckles going pale.
He frowned. They weren’t doing this unless she was completely into it. He pushed up. “We don’t have to do anything. There’s no rush.” It pained him to say it, but he wanted her all in or not at all.
“I know. I definitely plan to take my time.” Her voice had dropped a few octaves, the sultry quality sending a jolt to his cock. She still looked unsure. “I want you… I’m just nervous.” The last part came out as a whisper.
“I am too.” Admitting it was a strain.
He slightly pulled back when she reached for the buckle of his pants—even though it nearly killed him. Because if he was naked or if her mouth was on him… No, he wanted to taste her first. It had been too damn long between them and he wanted to hear those sexy sounds she made while she came.
“Lie back.”
She paused for a moment but then
scooted back on the bed, her caramel-hued skin glowing against the ivory comforter.
“I’ve had a lot of dirty fantasies about you,” he said, crawling on after her.
Her lips curved up slightly. “Fantasies or memories?”
“Both.” They hadn’t been together long enough to do remotely everything he’d imagined. And it was a lot. Sliding his hands up her smooth legs, he only stopped when he reached her hips, and pulled her bright blue bathing suit bottom right back down her legs. Her skin looked even darker against the material.
When she unexpectedly cupped herself, slowly teasing her clit, he forgot to breathe for a moment. Fuck me.
His erection strained against his pants as he watched her—watching him with an almost defiant expression. Daring him to take over. He’d told her he wanted the real her. And it looked as if he was getting her. Hell yeah.
He liked the haughty princess from months ago—and was glad that hadn’t changed. He also liked the woman taking control right now.
Grasping one of her legs, he slowly lifted it, keeping his gaze pinned to hers as he pressed his mouth to her inner ankle. She shuddered slightly at the contact, her eyes going even more heavy-lidded.
Before, when they’d been together, the chemistry had been electric. It was no different now as energy sparked between them. And he had a feeling that chemistry was never going to fade.
* * *
For the first time in ages, Alena felt free to be herself. Andre knew the worst things about her and he still wanted her. She’d lied to him. She’d tried to kill his father. There wasn’t much worse she could do to push him away. She might hate the path that had thrown the two of them together, but she wasn’t sorry she’d met him or was having their child. Not even a little bit.
And she wasn’t sorry they were in his bed again. This was something she’d dreamed would happen, but she hadn’t even allowed herself to think they’d actually ever end up together again. She’d locked up that hope with the rest of all the bullshit in her life that she compartmentalized in her mind.
As he kissed a path up her inner leg, raking his teeth over her skin, nipping and biting gently—and making the sexiest sounds as he moved higher and higher—all the muscles in her body pulled taut.
She arched her back as he reached her inner thighs, desperate for him to tease his tongue between her slick folds. Instead, it was clear he was enjoying torturing her. She was definitely enjoying it too.
Her inner muscles tightened as he oh so gently pressed his teeth against the most sensitive part of her inner thigh. Not biting exactly, just…teasing. Something she’d learned he was a master at.
But she wanted him to lose control. That was something she’d discovered she was a master at—making Andre lose that tight regulator he had on himself when she wanted to feel him thrusting inside her. So often he seemed to be walking a tightrope around her. And she knew he loved being in charge, no matter the situation.
She shifted her hand lower until she started to slide her middle finger inside herself, but lightning fast he grabbed her wrist and completely removed her hand. Taking over again.
Crouched between her spread legs, he pushed up slightly and met her gaze. “No more touching yourself. And take your bikini top off.”
Oh God. She loved the note of command in his voice. Because even with it, there was still a slight thread of a tremor. Which meant he would most definitely be inside her soon. He was right on that edge himself. Even thinking that had her inner muscles tightening, had more heat blooming between her legs. She was desperate now, desperate to feel him inside her.
She did as he said—ordered—and tossed the scrap of material at him. He let out a light laugh as he batted it away.
Then, without missing a beat, he dipped his head between her legs, and there was no more teasing. No more working her up to it. Good. Her nipples beaded into tight buds at the pleasure spiraling through her.
Moaning, she cupped her breasts as his tongue delved between her slick folds. She was so wet for him, so damn needy. No one had ever evoked this reaction in her, had made her want to be vulnerable. But she wanted to give him everything. And not out of guilt. Because she wanted to. Because she…loved him. She wasn’t even sure when it had happened. At one point she hadn’t been sure she was capable of it. Now she knew differently. There would be no one else for her.
When he focused on her clit, teasing his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves with a pressure designed to make her crazy, she rolled her hips. On instinct she tried to tighten her legs around his head, but he placed his firm hands against her inner thighs, holding her open for him.
The strength in his grip was evident, but she knew he would never hurt her. Not physically anyway. There was still a small part of her that was scared he was just using her, that he would toss her away after this. But she knew that was her own bullshit. That wasn’t in Andre. That wasn’t the man she knew.
When he removed one of his hands from her inner thigh, she draped her leg over his back, digging her heel into it even as she clutched the comforter beneath her. Her breasts were so sensitive now she couldn’t touch them anymore, just wanted to find release—wanted to feel him inside her. A light sheen of perspiration dotted her skin as her body ached for him.
With each stroke against her folds, pleasure punched out to all her nerve endings. She could easily become addicted to him. All those months ago she’d tried to deny what she felt for him, but it was no use.
When he slid a finger inside her, she automatically tightened around him. She wasn’t sure if it was her pregnancy or if it was just being with him, but it wasn’t going to take her long to push over the edge.
“Gonna come,” she rasped out. “Oh, God.”
“My name,” he growled against her. “You say only my name.”
She’d forgotten what a caveman he was. “Andre.”
He focused solely on her clit, teasing and licking and oh God, the pressure. When he added another finger inside her and began stroking, she lost it. Pleasure assaulted her whole body as her climax pushed higher, higher until she plummeted right over that edge into a free fall of pure ecstasy.
He’d learned her body so damn quickly and he clearly hadn’t forgotten how easy it was to make her climax.
When he started kissing a path up her body, focusing on her baby bump before moving higher, she spread her legs wider as she reached for him. She wanted to wrap around him, to pull him close.
His fingers, still buried inside her, curled against her inner walls, making her roll her hips as he reached her breasts.
“Clothes off,” she murmured, a little drowsy and a lot sated as she struggled with his shirt.
He quickly took over, stripping it and the rest of his clothes off. She hated that his hands weren’t on her but took pleasure in watching him move, watching as each piece of clothing was removed to reveal an expanse of hard, muscular perfection. Tall and lean, he was broader than she’d originally expected. He swam, like her, and his arms and pecs showed it. She wanted to touch him everywhere.
His movements were lithe, economical as he shifted back up the bed, covering her. She arched into him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. She was so sensitive it was a pleasure/pain combination. The stimulation made her moan. With his cock right against her entrance she wanted to roll her hips against him, to impale herself on his thick length—but managed to show some restraint as he leaned down to kiss her.
As she tasted herself on him, she moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms and legs around him. She wanted to crawl right out of her skin, to get as close to him as possible.
Need hummed through her, her nerves still buzzing with awareness as he started gently rocking against her folds—but not moving any farther. Teasing.
“Inside me now,” she mumbled against his mouth.
He pulled back a fraction, his breath warm on her face. The dim light from the nightstand lamp cast shadows over his face, making him look like a sexy, hardened wa
rrior.
“I want to drag this out…but I want inside you more.” His voice was savage, more a growl than anything.
Just the sound of his voice turned her on. Another rush of heat pooled between her legs—right as he thrust deep. She tried to move, to shift back against him, but he held her hips firmly in place, the display of his strength only igniting the pilot light of her own desire.
The sensation of being filled by him, of her muscles stretching, set off something inside her. “Move,” she demanded. She needed this and knew he did too. She needed him more than her next breath and couldn’t believe she’d lived so many months without him.
How had she?
He did that growling thing again before pulling back and out of her. No— When he flipped her onto her knees with a carefulness that surprised her, she arched her back as he grabbed her hips, filled her again.
From this position he hit her G-spot perfectly. She clawed at the comforter as he thrust inside her, over and over, his own moans mixed with hers. Then he slowed his pace, in and out, a perfectly steady rhythm—driving her completely crazy.
“I need more.” Her voice was as harsh and unsteady as the beat of her heart. He knew exactly what he was doing.
He paused, then began thrusting faster. As he did, he pulled her up, wrapping an arm around her middle, his hand at her throat as he pounded into her. She’d been worried he’d treat her like spun glass but this…this was the Andre she remembered. Demanding, intense, and so very sexual.
Reaching between her legs, she started strumming her clit as he continued thrusting. That was all it took, that little extra stimulation.
When she let go, he let go with her. And she had a feeling he’d been holding back, waiting for her to get her second orgasm. He’d always been like that, so damn determined that she was taken care of first. She should have known then that she had no chance against falling for him. Everything about him was thoughtful when it came to her.
He came inside her in long, hard thrusts. “Alena.” Her name came out as a sexy growl.