Pregnant by the Rival CEO

by Karen Booth

  Five

  Composure was no longer possible. Jacob gripped the motorcycle handlebars, but only to steady himself. Anna and her slender, feminine hands had just stirred primal urges from the depths of his gut. It had been building in the car. The motorcycle ride brought it closer to the boil—her arms coiled around him, her clasped hands pressing into his stomach when he went faster, her thighs pressing into his hips, squeezing him when he took the turns. And then there had been the noises she made—muffled shrieks and cries of excitement. How was a man supposed to live through that without his body responding?

  And then she’d touched him there.

  He closed his eyes to take the edge off, but the reality was that he wanted her, and he was fairly certain that she wanted him. Was that brush across his crotch her way of sending a message? It didn’t seem at all like Anna’s style—she was subtle and demure, rarely so bold, but she’d been testing limits of late, with her brother and her career. Was she testing Jacob? He had to find out. Every drop of blood circling below his waist was making it impossible to let the question go unanswered.

  He dared to open his eyes. She’d removed her helmet. He’d missed the moment when she took it off, but the result was worth it. Her hair was mussed—tousled, nearly disheveled, not at all its usual glossy neatness. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He could picture the rich, dark color against the white sheets of his bed. Her cheeks were flushed and rosy; he hoped not from the brisk autumn air, but from the thrill of the ride, the rush of being close to each other.

  He cleared his throat as he climbed off the motorcycle. Now to figure out a way to get the ten or so paces to the gear cabinet where she was standing—his jeans were too snug to make walking a casual affair. He used his helmet to shield himself.

  “That was so much fun. Thank you,” Anna said, breaking the silence.

  He wasn’t in the mood for skirting things anymore. No purely polite response to her gratitude would come from him. “Isn’t that what a guy does?” He eased out of his jacket and hung it up in the cabinet.

  “Does what?” Anna furrowed her brow, climbing out from under the pounds of leather she was wearing.

  “Try to impress a woman by showing off.” He placed his helmet on the shelf, then turned to face her square-on. It took considerable effort to obscure his edginess. His attraction to her hadn’t manifested itself this strongly before. His mind was racing to keep up.

  She cocked an eyebrow. Her warm brown eyes flashed. “Is that what that was?” Her lips remained parted after the question, the flirtation only provocation to the devil on his shoulder.

  “Yes.” He scanned her face, waiting for one more sign—something that said it was a good idea to do what he wanted to do.

  A warmth washed across her face. “If that’s you showing off, you can do that all you want.”

  And there it was. He sucked in a deep breath of resolve and erased the gap between them. He clasped both hands around her neck, pushing his fingers into the silky hair at her nape and lifting her mouth to his, collecting what he wanted with a tender, but insistent kiss. Her lips were even sweeter than he remembered, the kind of dessert that makes you lick the spoon over and over again, craving one more taste.

  “Tell me to stop,” he said, not relinquishing the grip he had on the back of her neck. His thumb caressed the smooth skin below her ear.

  “What?” Her eyes were half open, breaths heavy enough to hear.

  “Tell me you want me to stop.” His heart raced, part of him begging her to say that she wanted him, part of him knowing that it would be easier on them both if she stopped this right now. Being with Anna, as badly as he wanted her, would be pouring fuel on the flame that had dogged him for too long. “Tell me that you don’t want me to kiss you.”

  Her mouth went slack, eyes wide as the day was long. “I can’t,” she muttered.

  His heart was fighting to pound its way out of his chest. Whatever it was that she couldn’t do, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. “You can’t what?”

  “I can’t tell you to stop because I don’t want you to.”

  A wave of relief crashed over him. One hand went to her elbow, his fingers tracing the underside of her arm until he reached her palm. “Good. Because I don’t think there’s any way I can.”

  He snaked his hands around her waist and she popped up on to tiptoes, planting her arms on his shoulders. He didn’t even have to kiss her—she was all over him. As if he’d told her she’d earn a million dollars for every second they didn’t come up for air. Their tongues wound together in an endless circle. Their noses bumped as she tilted her head and came in for a different approach. She flattened her stomach against him, and he responded by lowering a hand to her bottom and tugging her hips closer to his.

  The metal door of the cabinet clanged against the frame when she pushed him into it. He was still trying to keep up with what was happening, trying like hell not to fixate on where it was going. Would their first time be in the garage? That could be insanely hot. But where? Concrete floor? Tool bench? He tensed for a second. He wanted it to be better than that. If they were only going to have one night, one weekend, he wanted them both to remember it. He quieted his mind. This was not the time for overthinking. His body relaxed. That only made him more susceptible to Anna’s fire.

  She hitched her leg over his hip as if she knew exactly what she was doing. Either she had far more experience than he’d ever bargained on, or she was going on pure enthusiasm. He hoped for the second, that this was her response to him, not just another time with another man.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed about this happening?” Anna asked. Her voice was all sweet desperation.

  His body came to a complete halt. Dreamed? Did this mean more to her than he’d banked on? If they were going to have their fling, they couldn’t make love in a car or on a tool bench. He needed to make this right, not merely salacious and reckless.

  “Believe me, I thought about our kiss a few times over the years.”

  “Just a few?” she asked, seeking eye contact. Her eyes were clear and intent, searching his face.

  He couldn’t tell her it had been more than that. It would only make things more complicated. There were enough dangerous feelings between himself and one Langford. “Let’s not talk about the past anymore. I’m tired of it.”

  “I don’t want to talk anyway.”

  Jacob caught sight of the clock on the wall. Oh, no. “Anna. Our meeting is in ten minutes.”

  She blew out a deep breath. “It is?” She lowered her head and shook it. An adorable groan leaked from her mouth. “Okay. I guess it’s time to get to work.”

  * * *

  So much for Anna’s resolve that this trip was going to be about business and absolutely nothing else. She’d had about as much self-restraint as a toddler in a toy store the minute Jacob kissed her. She still couldn’t believe she’d pushed him up against the cabinet door. Then again, she’d waited a long time for Jacob.

  But there was work to be done. She sat and smiled politely as Jacob and Mark got situated in the living room at Jacob’s. A fire crackled in the fireplace, the late afternoon sun cast a warm golden glow through the windows. Jacob had his arm spread out along the back of the chocolate brown leather sofa, his leg crossed, his other hand playing with the stitching at the end of the sofa arm. He laughed quietly at something Mark said, and glanced over at Anna with a look that made any sound in the room turn to a low hum. It was a look born of recognition. He wanted her and he sure as hell knew that she wanted him. There were no more questions of that basic intent. The real question was who would be the first to break down. Was she sitting inside the fireplace? It sure felt that way.

  Her entire body warmed, in exactly the way a fire builds—a spark, dead center in her chest, became dancing licks of flame in her shoulde
rs and belly, and the heat rolled right through her, making her face hot and her toes just as naturally off temperature. That kiss—that single, brain-chemistry-altering kiss, was more gratifying than any physical encounter she’d had with a man in years. What if more happened? What if clothes started to come off? Would she pass out? She might.

  “So, Mark,” Jacob started, again sliding a shy smile to Anna. “I’d love it if you could give Anna an overview of what you envision for the future of Sunny Side. I think that’ll be a good start and then we can see if partnering with a corporation like LangTel could be a good option.”

  Mark shifted in his seat, stroking his hipster beard, not looking entirely sold on the premise of corporate anything. He struck her as a man who’d be a stickler on the finer points of an arrangement between the two companies. This deal, if it happened, would require more than the right amount of money. A day ago, Mark’s reticence would have unhinged Anna to no end. Today, it was more of an annoyance. If he didn’t want to be here, why didn’t he just say so? Then she and Jacob could get back to business of an entirely different nature.

  Mark nodded and started on his song and dance about Sunny Side. Anna listened, taking notes on projections and plans for future products, ideas he had for the launch of the technology, product integrations and applications. Adam was a damn fool for letting his rift with Jacob stand in the way of this deal. Of course, the fact that he’d ignored the financial upside was testament to how much he hated the man she’d just kissed with reckless abandon in the garage.

  “Anna? Do you have any questions for Mark?”

  She was on deck. It was time to make her case. Jacob might be distracting the hell out of her, but she needed to focus. “I don’t. I’ve had a chance to look over these numbers and if your projections hold true, I’d say that Sunny Side can pretty much write their own ticket. So the real question is, how do we make that work within the structure of LangTel?”

  Mark leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “Look, Ms. Langford...”

  “Please. Call me Anna.”

  “Anna. You have to understand that I run a company of two dozen employees. Our product has come to fruition so seamlessly because we’re a tight-knit group. Our company culture is immensely important. My worry is that a giant like LangTel will swallow us whole or dismantle us until there’s nothing left.”

  “Let me assure you. We have no interest in dismantling your company. The dynamic of your team is crucial to your success. We will absolutely keep it intact.”

  “How can you make promises like that? Isn’t your brother CEO? I’ve heard he can be ruthless.”

  Jacob shot her a sideways glance, as if to remind her that Adam’s reputation was of his own making, not Jacob’s, and he wasn’t wrong. Adam liked knowing that some people feared him.

  “Actually, Adam’s business thinking is very much in-line with yours. He’s started two immensely successful and innovative companies from the ground up...” She stopped herself. One of those two ventures was the one Jacob and Adam had started together, the very source of the rift that made everything such a mess. Her stomach sank. What must Jacob think of what she’d just said? That she was hopelessly callous? She had to recover from her gaffe. “At the end of the day, whether your company is big or small, everyone wants to retain the dynamic that brought you success. Nobody wants to see someone else come in and dismantle what you’ve worked so hard for.”

  Jacob cleared his throat and Anna felt horrible. Bringing up his history with Adam had been a mistake. He’d said it himself in the garage. The last thing he wanted to talk about was the past.

  Six

  Jacob and Anna bid their goodbyes to Mark as he walked out to his car. The brisk night air filtered into the foyer. With a quiet click, Jacob closed the door. They were alone.

  “Well? What did you think of Mark?” he asked, bending over to pick up a stray leaf that had been tracked into the house.

  Anna stifled a sigh of appreciation for his backside. The man knew how to work a pair of jeans. “I like him a lot. He seemed open to some of the things I suggested, so that’s good.” Considering where Anna’s mind had been that whole time, it was a wonder she’d been able to glean that much from the meeting.

  “Good. Definitely good.” He nodded, holding the orange leaf by the stem as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

  “Yep.” The air was charged with anticipation. They both knew where this was going. But no one was doing anything about it. Should she throw herself at him? That was as close to formulating a plan as she could come. “Pretty color.” She pointed to the foliar evidence of the fall weather, resorting to painful small talk.

  Jacob opened the door again and tossed the leaf outside. A new rush of cool air caused her to shudder. Perhaps it was nature’s way of punctuating the fact that this time, he didn’t merely close the door. He locked the deadbolt.

  “Are you cold?” He dropped his chin, stepping closer, working his way into her psyche with an intense flash of his eyes. His hand gripped her elbow. Energy zipped along her spine.

  Finally—touching. Nothing skin-to-skin yet, but at least someone had given in. Anna was hyperaware of her breaths, her galloping heartbeat, the rotating sway of her body in his presence. This wasn’t that different from the moment after the motorcycle ride, except then, they’d had to break the ice. She was glad to be done with breaking. Now on to melting. “I caught a chill. I’m okay.”

  He smiled. “You’re so cute when you’re deflecting.”

  “What do you mean?” Even perplexed, her heart flitted at the mention of cute.

  “You’ll do anything you can to take any and all focus off of you.”

  She twisted her lips, trying not to fixate on his—the swell, the color, the memory of the way it felt when they were on hers. Why wasn’t he kissing her again? Was he going to wait until she started things? “If I do, I never noticed it. It must just be my personality.” She wished she could’ve come up with a sexy answer to the question, but there were too many urges to manage, like the one that told her she’d be a lot happier if he wasn’t wearing that sweater. Or those jeans.

  “I just find it interesting. Your brother is the complete opposite.”

  If Anna knew anything, it was this—if he didn’t kiss her in the next two seconds, she would go off like a grenade with the pin pulled. “Let’s leave Adam out of this. In fact, let’s pretend he doesn’t even exist.”

  “Are you flirting with me by describing my Utopia?” His eyes toyed with her. He was reveling in every second of their game.

  Her mouth went dry. That kiss in the garage hadn’t quenched a six-year-old thirst. It left her wanting more. “And what if I am?” She popped up on to her toes, gripping his shoulders to steady herself. “What if I did this?”

  She closed her eyes and went for it—her lips met his, in a kiss that made it feel as if she was no longer standing. There was a millisecond of hesitation from him before his tongue sought hers. Every atom of her body celebrated in a chorus of delight and relief. She shifted her forearms up on to his shoulders, dug her fingers into the back of his thick hair. His lips—soft and warm and wet, became more eager, seeking her jaw and neck. His arms wound tightly around her, pulling her against him, nearly lifting her off her toes.

  His hand snaked under the back of her sweater, conveying what she’d been so eager to know—he wanted clothes to come off as badly as she did. His fingers fumbled with the bra clasp, which was so adorable. He was so smooth. It was nice to know he couldn’t make the entire universe conform to his will.

  “Here. Let me,” she muttered. Now flat-footed, she lifted her sweater over her head then clutched it to her chest. “Everybody’s gone for the day, right?” It would be so like her to undress while the gardener was watching.

  He laughed, a flicker of appreciation crossing his face as he pl
ucked the sweater from her hands and tossed it onto the foyer bench. “Yes.” Leaning closer, he poked his finger under one of her black satin bra straps, popping it off her shoulder. “It’s just you and me and this big house.”

  His words didn’t merely prompt a rapid wave of goose bumps—they were about to become a permanent feature of her complexion. She bit down on her lip. If this was going to happen, it would be good. She reached behind and unhooked her bra, but left it for him to take off. “Tell me you want me to stop.”

  “Tell me you want me to stop.” He kissed the curve of her neck—the most sensitive spot, the one that made her want to squeal with delight.

  “No stopping. Please, no stopping.”

  He didn’t tear his gaze from her as he slid the other strap from her shoulder. He dragged the garment down her arms slowly. His vision sank lower. “You are too beautiful to have anything less than exactly what you want. Tell me what you want.” Gripping her rib cage with both hands, his thumbs caressed the tender underside of her breasts, as he lowered his head and gave one nipple a gentle lick.

  The gasp that rose from the depths of her throat sounded like a lifetime of frustration being cut loose. She dropped her chin to her chest when he did it again. She loved watching him admire her this way, knowing that she turned him on. “I want you. Right now.”

  “Upstairs,” he muttered.

  Before she knew what he was doing, she was off her feet and in his arms, feeling tiny, like she weighed nothing at all. He marched up the stairs and she clung to his neck, desperate to kiss him again.

  The hall to his bedroom seemed to stretch for miles. Neither of them said a thing. Their heavy breaths carried the conversation instead. They reached their destination, a grand room with vaulted ceilings and windows overlooking the grounds. He set her down gently on the enormous four-poster bed, smiling.