Marrying My Billionaire Boss

by Lee, Nadia

  “Well, I simply don’t trust him.” Her mouth tightens. “Did you see what he thinks is tasteful ‘art’ in the living room? It’s not my place to say anything, but my goodness.”

  That damned statue. I wonder if I can send it back to Barron.

  “Mom, come on. You’ve never trusted anybody with me. You didn’t think much of the boys I dated in high school, to say nothing of Chad.”

  “And I was right not to. There ought to be a law against having sex with a mannequin,” she mutters.

  “What? I have never had sex with a mannequin!”

  “That Chadwick?”

  “What on earth are you talking about? Chad’s not a mannequin.”

  “Oh, Evie,” she says sadly. “You were fucking that dummy for months.”

  I have to laugh. “Okay, so you turned out to be right about him and a few other times.” But I refuse to be pessimistic about all my relationships. “I know you’re tired from the trip. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m exhausted, too.” I yawn to emphasize my point.

  “Of course.” Concern clouds her cornflower-blue eyes, the same exact shade as mine. “You go ahead and turn in. Pregnancy does take it out of you.”

  I hug her. “Good night. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Night, hon.”

  Leaving her alone in her room, I go to the master bedroom. My feet feel like two big huge chunks of lead as I drag myself along the hall. I honestly have no clue what I’m going to say to Nate or how he’s going to react. There’s no way he remembers having sex with me in Vegas. Otherwise he would’ve hinted at something. Is he going to wonder who the real father is? Insist on a discreet paternity test? That would be sensible for a man in his situation, even though a small part me would be slightly hurt that he couldn’t just take my word for it.

  It’d be monumentally stupid for him to take anybody’s word for something like this, I tell myself. Maybe Mom knows this too, which is why she’s so worried, even though she isn’t saying anything out loud. How does a relationship work if one party has to prove to the other that they aren’t lying all the time?

  I open the door and quietly step inside. Nate has already changed into his boxers and T-shirt. The expression on his face is serious. Like, corporate bankruptcy serious.

  “You know,” I say, “I had no idea I was pregnant until today, because I was talking with Kim, and she said something that made me realize that I was, uh”—God, this is embarrassing—“three days late. So I had to check, even though I have no recollection of having had sex with anybody, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t want to say anything right before the party when I wasn’t even sure, you know? I mean, I could’ve been late because of stress or because I’m in a new home or because…something. Sometimes, you know, a woman can be late for no reason at all…” I’m babbling. I need to stop, except my mouth keeps going. Nate stands up and walks slowly toward me. “I’m seriously regular, though, like, you could program a calendar app off my cycle, but—”

  He puts a finger over my lips. “Evie. Breathe.”

  My mouth is parted, and I can almost taste him. It’s all I can do to not flick my tongue against the pad of his index finger.

  You’re one messed-up woman. You’re pregnant unknowingly, and you’re worried about sampling his finger?

  Then I realize something else. “You called me Evie,” I say, almost stupidly, against his finger. It feels so good to move my lips against it. My mouth tingles.

  He doesn’t move the finger away. “Well, yes. It’s weird to keep calling you Mrs. Sterling, especially when we’re about to have a baby and all.”

  “Don’t you have any, you know, questions?” Why is he not asking about the baby?

  He finally drops his hand, which I follow like a puppy watching a strip of bacon moving farther away. “Like what? About Vegas? Do you remember anything?”

  I shake my head, wondering if he’s disappointed I can’t answer that last question with a yes.

  “Well, then, don’t worry about anything. I already told my family it’s mine. They won’t question the paternity. Ever.”

  Shock sweeps over me. “Why did you do that?”

  “Did you have sex with anybody since your last period?”

  “No!”

  “Hey now, calm down. That’s what I figured too.”

  He gently puts his hands on my shoulders and has me sit down on the edge of the bed. His no-visa-entry side of the bed. I’m so stunned that I let him lead me, then perch my butt on the edge of the mattress. He crouches down in front of me, holding my hands in his, and says, “I trust you, Evie.”

  Emotions I can’t name quiver inside me. “Just like that?” My voice is shaky.

  “Just like that. You would never lie to me about something like this, or pretend the baby was mine if it wasn’t. You’re too honest.”

  “You don’t even want to do a paternity test?” I ask, just to be certain.

  His eyebrows snap together. “That’d be insulting. To both of us.”

  His trust in me humbles me, overwhelms me. I know that with this man, I’m always going to be safe. I’ll never have to tiptoe around, trying to prove myself, wondering if I’m enough.

  After the whole clusterfuck with Chad, I felt like I had to build sky-high, broken-glass-topped walls around me to keep me safe. But they’re falling around me…around my heart.

  And I know without a doubt I love this man. Not for his billions, not for his looks, but for the amazing heart that beats in his chest, for the sweet tenderness shining in his eyes.

  Hot emotion swelling in my chest, I lay my hand on his cheek and lean down, pressing my lips against his. They’re softer than I thought, and the contact ignites my nerve endings.

  A low groan tears from his throat as he rises, then moves until I’m lying half on the bed with him over me. I lick his mouth, taste him—all that amazing, brilliant, hot male who’s been driving me crazy with lust these past months.

  “You’re so sweet,” he whispers.

  “So are you.”

  He gives me a mock frown. “Men are supposed to be manly.”

  “You can still be sweet. Sweetly manly.”

  His forehead touches mine. “Evie, make sure you’re sure. Don’t let your hormones cloud things here.”

  I can feel his hot, heavy erection against my belly. There are tight lines around his eyes and mouth. The offer is costing him a great deal.

  And for that, I want him even more.

  “Nate,” I say, loving the sound of his name in my mouth, the gentle intimacy of it. “If I weren’t pregnant and hormonal, I’d still want you. You’ve been the star of my dirty fantasies for a long, long time.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he says with a shudder.

  And then his mouth claims mine. It’s hot, wild and unrestrained. I vaguely feel the Great Wall pillows get shoved away as Nate makes one strong sweep with his hand.

  I entwine my arms around his neck and kiss him back, like I’ve always wanted. Our tongues glide past each other, then tangle, as we greedily savor each other, stoking the heat between us. I move my legs restlessly against his muscled thighs, reveling in the strength of his frame.

  Everything about him makes me hot. I could kiss him forever. Stroke him forever. Feel his cock grinding between my legs through the underwear forever.

  His mouth seeks the sensitive skin behind my ear, then the pulse point on my neck. I tilt my head, giving him room, wanting him to have all of me. His hot breath fans against me, and God I’m so turned on, electric pleasure making my spine arch.

  “I have a very long list of things I want to do to you,” he murmurs against the swell of my upper breast.

  I wriggle, helping him get rid of my dress, then my bra. His eyes darken to near-black when he sees my bare breasts.

  “So pretty.” He buries his face between them and licks the skin there. Each flick of his tongue goes straight to my clit, making it ache, my thigh muscles tight.

&nb
sp; “So which one do you want to do first?” I ask breathlessly.

  There’s a pause. “I can’t remember any of them now that you’re here. Where to start…” He looks at me, his expression full of searing hunger.

  My lust burns hotter. “How about we start with what that damn statue was doing?” The position I saw had the woman sucking off a man on his back. It’ll be amazing to do that…pull him deep into my mouth and see the pleasure break on his handsome face…

  His breathing roughens. “I think that’s a brilliant idea.” Then he takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking and rolling the sensitive tip with his tongue.

  I clench the sheet underneath, my back bowing. He seems to know exactly how much pressure I crave, what kind of stimulation to maximize my pleasure.

  “Nate,” I whisper, my voice soft, raw, pleading.

  He releases the breast. “Say it again.”

  “Nate.”

  “God. I’ve waited forever to hear that. I want you to say it all the time.”

  My eyes prickle with tears. I thought I was just putting a professional distance between us, nothing personal. But his tone says it was totally personal.

  He pulls the other nipple in his mouth, his hand traveling south and pulling at my thong until it slides down my legs and lands somewhere, in some other country. Anticipation quivers through me as I’m completely exposed to him.

  “You have too many clothes on,” I say, in a husky voice I don’t recognize as my own.

  “Damn right.” He grins. “I’ve been working hard for this body.” He yanks the shirt over his head, then slips off his boxers. They, too, vanish into the background.

  Oh my. His cock is stunning. Hard. Long. Thick. Ending in a plum-shaped head. The thick veins throb on the shaft, and I push myself up and lick the tip, needing to taste him—slick salt and Nate at his most basic.

  He lets out a low groan. “Damn, Evie, you have to stop. My control is pretty good, but not right now.”

  What? “Why not now?” I demand.

  “Because I haven’t come in the last two weeks. Rosie just wasn’t going to cut it.”

  The admission is sexy. Hot. Desire pulses through me, but more potent is the love I feel for him.

  I cradle his face between my hands and kiss him with all the adoration in my heart. All the warm, soft, gooey emotions welling inside me. Our mouths fuse, the contact lushly erotic. I part my thighs, so there’s no doubt whatsoever in his mind that I want him—that I crave this intimacy between us.

  One hand crushes my hair, keeping me close as though he’s afraid I might vanish. The other traces the curves of my body, exploring and learning the sensitivity and texture of my bare skin—every square inch.

  I moan, letting him know without breaking the kiss that I love his touch. And that he’s making me so, so wet.

  His fingers brush along my hips, then move closer and closer to the flesh between my legs. My breathing quickens, anticipation coiling. The pad of his thumb glides down my slick folds, starting from the clitoris…all the way down to the opening of my pussy and back up again. I shudder as pure bliss spreads through me. The taste of him, the feel of him is the only thing saturating my mind, my senses. I cling to him, my nails digging into his hard muscles. My God. He is magnificently male.

  And all mine.

  Thumb over my throbbing clit, he pushes a finger into me. The friction is sweet, but light. I clench around it, wishing it were his cock instead.

  “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says.

  “It’s been a while,” I say breathlessly. Whatever happened in Vegas doesn’t count, since we don’t remember it. “And I’m dying to feel you inside me. Can we do that now?”

  The muscles in his jaw bunch. “I need to get a condom.”

  “Why? You can’t get me pregnant.”

  “Rubbers are for other things, too, and it’s different from Vegas, where we were too drunk to remember. I’d love to go bareback, but if you aren’t comfortable…”

  I’ve never been with a man who’d think of my comfort and protection so much so that he’d forgo raw sex. If I’d ever had any doubts, this would decimate them.

  I lay a tender hand on his cheek and brush my thumb over the intense frown on his face, the one he wears when he’s trying to focus and control himself. “I trust you, Nate.”

  His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’m clean.”

  “I know. So am I.” I smile, so incredibly touched.

  When he enters me, our fingers linked tightly, it’s like every light in the universe has come on. It feels so good to have him stretch and fill me. Better than anything I’ve ever had. Nothing else in my life ever made me feel this intimately connected to somebody. Or cared for. Or adored.

  He watches my face as he drives into me, each thrust slightly different, and incredibly pleasurable. He changes the angle of his hips, and as he pushes forward, he does a grinding motion against my clit that makes me see fireworks, whimper and gasp and pray for more.

  And he gives me more. His dark eyes glitter above me, and I open myself wider for a deeper penetration. I want to feel him all the way.

  Blissful pleasure builds, runs through me, begins to ravage me. My eyes squeeze shut as I lose myself on a tide of ecstasy, and the orgasm breaks.

  “Nate!”

  His fingers tighten on me. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to know he’s never letting me go. His movements are no longer controlled. The drive of his hips is harder, faster and wilder. I love it. This passionate, crazed side of him is a turn-on.

  A second orgasm rips through me with shocking intensity. I arch my back and clench my teeth so I don’t scream loudly enough to alert Mom down the hall. Nate stiffens, pushing into me one last time. I feel the hot warmth spilling inside, and I hold him to me, my heart glowing with happiness.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Nate

  I flop onto my back so I don’t crush Evie, then pull her close, needing to feel her warmth. It took so damn long—I worked harder to win her over than I ever had to for anybody else—that it almost seems like this is just another of my fever dreams.

  But the solid feel of her head on my shoulder and the silken hair on my arm say it’s real.

  It takes a while before I can breathe normally again. Damn. I’m in good shape, but loving Evie took everything out of me.

  But it was worth it. She’s worth it.

  I run my gaze over her beautiful face. It’s soft—her blue eyes hazy with afterglow, her lips curved into a slight, satisfied smile.

  I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it. “You’re amazing,” I say.

  “So are you,” she says, still a little breathless. Then she flings her free arm out. “The Great Wall is no more.”

  “Yeah. I’m burning it down. We can do s’mores over the bonfire.”

  She laughs. “Whatever you like. I just want your hot body all to myself.” She waggles her eyebrows, giving me an exaggerated lascivious look.

  “You only want me for my body,” I joke.

  “I want you for other things, too.” She grows a little more serious. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” I say, feeling extra indulgent and generous. She could ask anything—even to drive my precious Bugatti—and I’d say yes.

  “Your family’s right about your alcohol limit, aren’t they?”

  Naturally. She doesn’t ask about a car that would get any other woman excited. I sigh. My damn family. They talk too much. Hopefully she’s not too peeved about my little white lie. “Yeah. I can drink quite a bit.”

  She shifts until she can look at my face straight on. “So why’d you pretend to be totally soused after only three drinks?”

  I run my fingers through her hair idly, wondering how I’m supposed to explain my rather ridiculous plan.

  With honesty, obviously. And maybe you should come clean about your “inability to coordinate outfits” and obsession with green smoothies. You know you just made those things up to get h
er to come to your place in the morning, hoping you could seduce her with your body.

  Yeah. But one thing at a time. I don’t want to overwhelm her in her delicate condition. It’d be terrible if she fainted again…even if she is lying on a bed at the moment.

  “Well,” I begin slowly, picking my words with care. “I originally hired you because Kim said good things about you. I mean, partially.”

  “Partially?”

  “Yeah. You being hot was the other part.”

  She snorts.

  “Hey, it’s true. You’re hot. I’ve been lusting after you since the interview. Anyway, you were impossible to get close to, so I decided to pretend to be drunk. I figured, you know…maybe you’d tell me things you might not otherwise.” If I were standing, I’d be squirming. It sounds even worse spoken out loud.

  “Really?” She props herself on my chest. “Were you disappointed when I just brought you here, then said you were a great boss?”

  That memory is the worst. Mildly humiliating, too. “Of course. You didn’t take anything I said seriously.”

  “Who takes that kind of praise seriously? I thought it was sweet, but you were drunk.” She tilts her head. “Why didn’t you try to tell me the truth later?”

  “Because the whole thing was stupid, and I didn’t think it would come back to bite me like this. It’s a bit annoying when you tell me to stop after three drinks, but it isn’t like I have to drink. It was more important you didn’t think I was an idiot.” The moment the admission leaves my mouth, I press my lips together. I didn’t mean to say quite this much. But Evie has the power to strip me down, make me feel vulnerable and exposed, the way nobody else ever has before. It’s as though my subconscious knows she won’t trample on me or break my trust.

  “I think it’s kind of adorable. I won’t think badly of you. You’re brilliant.” She smiles, then kisses me. “We should do something else now.”

  “Like what?” I ask, wondering if she wants to talk about the baby. Pregnant women care about that kind of things, don’t they? Maybe she wants to make a list of names she likes. We should decide on it before Barron decides for us. He’ll probably want us to name the child after him.