Boardroom Bride: A Fake Fiance Secret Pregnancy Romance
Page 139
Who am I kidding? I’m pretty sure that sex with Wes would be mind-blowing. That thing I said earlier? About the first time being bad and just needing to get it over with? Scratch that. Because I don’t think it would be anything like that with him.
He shocks the hell out of me when he says, “Celine, you don’t have to have sex with me. That’s not why I bid on you.”
I’m not sure if I should be insulted or relieved. “What you do mean?”
“Just that you are obviously doing this for a reason. But I can also see that it’s the last thing you want to do. So I’m giving you an out.”
I press my lips together, my eyes burning. “I need the money, Wes.” That’s a bitch to admit, but it’s true.
“You’ll get your money.”
“You bid half a million dollars,” I say, stunned. “And you’re willing to pay that even if you don’t get what you paid for.”
He smiles. “I’ll make you a deal. Come home with me tonight. We can just hang out. Watch a movie or something. Then we’ll go get that coffee tomorrow, and you can tell me all about that screenwriting program.” He shrugs. “After that, we’ll see. We’ll take it day by day.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He wants to pay half a million dollars to basically date me? Without the guarantee of sex?
And what’s even crazier is that I feel disappointed.
Wes
Celine’s laughter is contagious. I’ve learned this in the last few days. She’s also crazy funny.
“You really should consider comedy,” I tell her, as she tells a story with such perfect timing that I can just see her writing scripts for sitcoms.
“Now who’s being funny,” she teases, bumping her shoulder against mine as we eat takeaway Chinese on my couch in my penthouse.
Things are just that easy between us. True to my word, I didn’t make her hold up her end of the contract. We haven’t had sex. But it’s been right at the front of my mind every single day I’ve spent with her this week. Which is every day.
I want her. Badly. But I’m also enjoying getting to know her. Something I don’t take the time to do. And I’m finding that it’s fun, this whole dating thing. At least it is with her. She’s just as amazing as I suspected.
We finish up dinner, and I carry everything into the kitchen to throw it out and grab a bottle of wine.
Celine follows me into the kitchen, but when I top off her glass, she just sets it down on the marble countertop and turns to me.
“Wes,” she begins, nerves evident in the shake of her voice.
“What is it?” I ask, setting my own glass down and pulling her toward me, resting my hands on the curve of her hips.
She relaxes into me as if we’ve been doing this forever, as if she’s totally comfortable with me. “I think we need to talk about this.”
“This?” I pretend I don’t know what she means.
“Us.”
And fuck, I love the sound of that. Never thought that was something I’d want to hear. But from Celine, it sounds like something I’ve been missing out on.
“What about us?” I ask, pulling her closer.
She bites her lip, and I want to kiss the worried expression right off her face. Even though I’ve yet to even kiss her. Another first. I want her to know that I don’t expect anything from her other than what I said.
She blows out a breath. “I want to give you my virginity.”
My eyebrows fly up. “We talked about this. You don’t owe me anything.”
She fixes her gaze on me, the shy girl nowhere to be seen tonight. “I said I want to.”
“We can do that. When you’re ready.”
“Tonight,” she says.
And fuck, I’m instantly hard. It’s taken everything in me not to strip this girl down and toss her on my bed and fuck her brains out yet. And here she is offering it up to me.
I can’t argue with that.
Lifting a hand to her face, I push her hair back, trailing my hand down the long column of her neck, past her collarbone to the dip between her tits. I watch her face the whole time, loving how her mouth drops open, how her chest heaves as her breath catches.
I dip my head down, needing to taste those lips that have tempted me for days. I brush my mouth across hers, lightly at first, feeling her fingers tighten and dig into my shoulder.
She sighs, and I nearly come undone at the sweetness of it. This girl has me acting like I’ve never acted before. Wanting to make this special for her. But I also have a real need to just drive right into her and take what I want.
That need takes hold, and I deepen the kiss, dipping into her warm mouth with my tongue, thrusting against hers in a preview of what I intend to do to her pussy.
She moans, kissing me back, and I scoop her up and carry her into my bedroom.
“I’m going to make you cum, Celine. I’m going to fuck you with my fingers and make you cum all over my hand. And when I’m done, I’m going to fuck you with my mouth and make you cum all over my face. And when you think you can’t take it anymore, I’m going to fuck your pussy and make you cum all over my cock.”
Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock, but I know she likes the way I’m talking to her because those eyes are full of desire, and I can see her nipples straining against the thin fabric of her shirt.
I grin. “You like that, don’t you? When I talk dirty. You want me to make you cum, baby?”
“Yes,” rips from her throat on a strangled gasp.
Hell yeah.
Setting her on my bed, I wrap her legs around my waist and just kiss her. Enjoying the way our tongues play against each other.
But soon it’s not enough. For her either. She fumbles with the buttons of my shirt until she has them all undone, spreading my shirt and running her hands all over my chest, exploring.
She drives me so wild I almost forget that she’s never done this before. But then she’s tugging at my pants as well, an urgency taking over her.
I chuckle against her lips. “Aren’t you the eager one?”
She nods, mumbling, “Want you. Need you.”
I groan as her hand finds its way down and wraps around my cock. “Fuck, Celeste. You make me so crazy. I want you so bad.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Well, okay then. I pull back and stare at her for a minute. Gorgeous.
Slowly, I pull her shirt up and over her head, then unzip her pants and tug them down over her hips, leaving her in just her bra and panties. Pink lace. Sweet. Just like her.
Then because I promised I’d make her cum again and again, I get to it, dipping my thumb into her panties and dragging it through her folds. She’s soaked. For me.
I groan as I continue to stroke her, circling her clit gently until she’s writhing on the bed in front of me. I push her down onto her back and peel the panties from her, returning immediately to her perfect pussy.
“You ready for this, baby?” I ask, wanting her to be prepared. When I look up at her face, I expect there to be some apprehension, but all I see is straight up lust and need.
“Please,” she begs.
All I need to hear. I press a finger into her slick heat, and it slips right in because she’s So. Fucking. Wet.
A gasp flies from her mouth as she wiggles on the bed. Gently, I push in further, massaging and caressing her velvet walls, loving how her eyes flutter closed and her needy whimper floats through the air.
I continue circling her clit, then add a finger, slowly thrusting in and out as I finger fuck her, just like I told her. She’s so tight. So tight. I can’t wait to bury my cock in that tight heat. But first I have to get her ready for me.
Reaching up to her tits, I flick her nipple, then lower my head and suck on it through the lacy bra. She arches against me, panting, and I bite down gently. That does it. She explodes, her pussy gripping my fingers, convulsing around them as I continue to pump into her while she cums.
Celine looks at me with wide eye
s when I finally withdraw my fingers. With a smirk, I lift them to my mouth and suck them until I’ve licked every bit of her sweetness off them.
Her eyes go even darker. She likes it. My sweet little virgin has a naughty side that she’s just discovering. And I’m ready to show her just how naughty we can get.
Celine
This is exactly where I want to be. For days I’ve wondered if I was going to get anything more from Wes than fun dates and conversation. It’s been making me crazy. The longing I have for him is totally unexpected. But I want him. And he’s finally giving me what I’ve been craving.
I watch as he sucks me off his fingers, ridiculously turned on by what he’s doing. Holy hell, that’s hot. But I miss the feeling of him inside me, and I squirm, wanting more. “Please, Wes.” I don’t even care that I’m begging. “More.”
That sexy smirk crosses his face, and he leans in, kissing me hungrily as he removes my bra, leaving me completely exposed to him. I swallow the nerves, letting the anticipation take over as he removes the last of his clothing, baring himself to me too.
I suck in a breath, both excited and nervous about how big he is. Is that thing even going to fit? I don’t know how, but I’m willing to find out.
My hips buck toward him, my body instinctively knowing what I need.
But he shakes his head. “Not yet.”
I sit up in frustration, and he laughs again. “Lie down, baby. Didn’t I tell you I was going to fuck you with my mouth.”
My pussy clenches again at his words, and I can feel myself get wetter. Who knew that such a filthy mouth was so hot? I could listen to him talk to me like that all day.
I lay back like he said, gripping the sheets in my fists as he spreads me wide. Then he dives in, seeming to enjoy what he’s doing as much as I enjoy him doing it. So, so good. The sensations rolling through my body feel like a buzzing energy, building to a burn that threatens to set my whole body on fire. He drags his tongue all over my pussy, sucking my clit, thrusting his tongue into my folds. And when he clamps down over me, licking me with abandon, all that energy explodes like a hundred bolts of lightning, bright light and colors flashing behind my eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure ravages my body.
I can’t breathe. I’m liquid. Boneless. Suspended in a state of ecstasy. This is what I’ve been missing out on?
“Yeah?” Wes says. Apparently, it’s written all over my face.
“Oh yeah. Can we just do this forever? I need to make up for lost time.”
That rumbling laugh tickles my clit, and another aftershock quakes my body. “Sounds good to me. I could eat your pussy forever, baby. Tastes so good.”
Damn.
I’m starting to think that auction was the best thing that ever happened to me.
“But right now,” he continues, “I’m going to make good on my promise and make you cum on my cock.”
I swallow, nerves reappearing, even though this is exactly what I want.
“I’ll go as slow as you need me to,” he assures me.
I nod, watching as he rolls on a condom and settles himself between my legs, bracing himself on his palms on either side of my head. Wes locks his eyes on mine, positioning his huge cock at my entrance.
I swallow, my breath coming in desperate pants as he pushes the wide head of his thick cock into my virgin pussy.
“You okay?” he asks, watching me.
I nod again. Inch by tortuously slow inch, he presses into me, stopping when he feels any resistance, letting me adjust to his size before he pushes any further. Finally, he’s all the way in, filling me to the max, stretching me in a way that is a combination of searing pain and unbelievably exquisite pleasure. Taking up every bit of space inside of me. Filling me with him.
And he stays there, waiting. A rush of need takes over my body, and my pussy clamps down on his hard cock, needing the friction.
Wes groans. It must feel good to him. I clench over him again, loving how it feels to have him inside me. Then he begins to move. Thrusting inside me over and over and over. My body responds, instinct taking over, and I meet his every thrust, desperate to get more, to get closer, to feel him stroke me in the best possible way.
Placing his hands under my hips, he tilts me up until he’s hitting me at just the right angle. And it’s fucking perfect. In the next second, I’m doing exactly what he said I would. I’m coming all over his cock. Drenching him. Squeezing him. Milking him.
He lets out a fierce growl as he gives into his own pleasure, his cock swelling and pulsing inside me so hard that it sends me right into another spiral of ecstasy.
When I finally float back down to Earth, he takes me and wraps me in his arms, so gently, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Perfect,” he whispers.
It was. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Nothing at all like jumping into a pool of freezing water. It was more like sliding into a hot spring.
If that was just the first time? I can’t even imagine what’s ahead.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he rolls me toward him, cupping my face. “And it only gets better from here.” He kisses me softly, and know I can’t wait to find out.
Jules & Linc
Jules
“Okay, Jules, what do we have on the agenda?”
I expertly balance my tablet in the crook of my arm while holding my Venti Caramel Macchiato with the same hand so I can swipe through Linc’s morning schedule.
“Eight-thirty with Mackenzie, ten o’clock with the Burroughs, and eleven with—” I pause and glance up at my boss as we walk at a steady clip toward the subway entrance. I almost hate to tell him. “—Wes.”
He groans. “Way to start a Monday morning, Jules.”
I try to smother the laughter, but it bubbles up anyway. “He’s not that bad, Linc.”
Linc levels me with at stare that tells me just how bad he thinks his brother is. Yeah, we both know how he makes his money. Linc was sure to warn me about his brother from the first time he came in for a visit at Linc’s investment firm—the first week I started working for him two years ago. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.
He sips his own coffee. Black and strong. “Well, at least he won’t be hitting on you this time. I have it on good word that he’s officially off the market.”
My eyebrows fly up, and I press a hand to my heart. “The women of Manhattan are going to be devastated. Oh, wait,” I say, as I pretend another thought hits. “This means they’re going to double down on their efforts to get their claws in you. How am I ever going to get any work done in between fighting them off with a baseball bat?”
Linc gives me a lopsided grin. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Jules. You’re only the most efficient assistant ever. You can fight them off one handed while drinking lattes and keeping me in line. And that’s no easy task,” he adds with a wink.
I try to ignore the flutter of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. I hate when he does that to me. Thrown off balance by the effect he has on me, I nearly lose my footing on a crack in the sidewalk, the heel of my Manolos catching.
He reaches out to steady me, leaving his hand around my waist for what might be considered a few seconds too long. When he removes it, I can still feel the heat radiating out from where he touched me.
“Yeah, keeping you in line is far from easy. Wish I’d known it was part of the job description,” I joke. It’s nearly difficult as keeping myself in line around him. How I’ve made it through two years working for him keeping my girlish crush to myself is a mystery.
“Ah, you know you love me.” That grin again. Full of mischief. He bumps his shoulder against mine, and I laugh, shaking my head.
We head underground, the crush of the morning commuters all around us. Linc places a hand on the small of my back, searing me yet again. I would think after months of this morning routine I would be immune. Nope. Furthest thing from it.
When I moved into his neighborhood a few months back, he decided to forgo his town car
that normally took him to work in favor of taking the 6 Train with me. Said that the walk and the fresh air did him good. And it gave us a head start on the day.
I don’t complain. Even though we’ve always had an easy vibe at work, I feel like these mornings have given me a chance to really get to know him outside of the office. Because even though we’re supposed to be using the time to get ahead of the workday, most of our mornings are spent discussing the Knicks or what happened on our favorite shows the night before. Working for him is a dream anyway, but these mornings? Best part of my day.
We squeeze onto the platform and talk about our favorite draft picks. When the train rushes by, screeching to a stop, we push forward, Linc guiding me on board with a hand on my elbow. Standing room only. Great. My favorite.
Suddenly, raised voices catch my attention as the train lurches forward, and I crane my neck to see what’s going on. Some arrogant businessman is arguing with a woman, and she’s shouting insults and waving a flyer in his face.
I arch my brow at Linc and shrug. Just another day in the city. When we reach the next stop, the same man pushes through angrily, obviously in a hurry to get off the train. He spins to hurl one last remark to the woman, and when he does, his elbow hits my coffee cup, sending milky brown coffee flying from my hand to land smack dab in the center of Linc’s chest.
The shock on his face would almost be comical if it weren’t for the huge stain spreading across what I’m sure is a ridiculously overpriced dress shirt.
“Fuck,” he grits out, glaring at the man. But he’s already off the train.
“Here,” I say, shoving my tablet into his hands. “I’ve got this.”
I dig in my bag for a minute and proudly produce stain-removing wipes, holding them up in front of him as if it’s a winning lottery ticket.
Linc chuckles and shakes his head. “What would I do without you? You’re like a Boy Scout or something.”
“You’d probably be avoiding the train and enjoying the luxury of your fancy chauffeured car. That’s what.” I smile and pull a wipe from the package, hurriedly dabbing at the stain. It’s really not that bad. With any luck, it won’t even be noticeable.