Pregnant by the Playboy (Fong Brothers, #1)

by Jackie Lau

“I’m sorry.”

  He waves this away. “I should leave.”

  “You, uh, still want me to go to that party with you?”

  “I think I’ll head home instead.”

  Just then, I get a text from Cedric, who says he’s stopping by since he’s in the area. A minute later, there’s a knock on the door.

  Good timing, I guess?

  Brian follows me to the door and puts on his shoes. The instant I open the door, I remember the last time I saw Brian, when he said he’d seen my brother at a café. He’s cute. Knowing what I do now, I’m not sure what to think.

  Brian mumbles a greeting to Cedric with none of his usual pizzazz and heads to the elevator.

  Cedric stares after Brian.

  “Who’s that?” he asks once my friend has gotten in the elevator.

  “That’s Brian Poon,” I say.

  “You talk about him all the time, but I’ve never met him before.”

  Cedric is still looking toward the elevator.

  I have pretty strong suspicions now, but I don’t comment on them.

  “Come inside,” I say instead.

  Chapter 24

  Marissa

  “How are you feeling today?” Vince asks me.

  We’re sitting at the counter in a hand-pulled noodle restaurant, watching the noodle maker slap the dough on his work surface.

  “Good. Less overwhelmingly horny.” I smile.

  “Sounds horrible.”

  “No, it’s a good thing. I can focus properly at work and don’t think about sex whenever I see a banana...or let’s face it, all the time.” I sip my tea. “In fact, I’m not horny right now. Nope, not at all.”

  “You’re full of shit,” he murmurs. “We’re sitting right next to each other, and your leg is pressed against mine.”

  The truth is that my hormones have felt more under control lately...when I’m not thinking about Vince. But I think about Vince a lot.

  And he’s right. Sitting next to each other like this, well, it does things to me.

  I wish I could get to know him without obsessing about where this is going, but I’m seventeen weeks pregnant, and it feels like there’s a countdown. By the time the baby comes, there needs to some level of commitment...or not.

  I’ve still got a few months, but I need more time. Though I want this baby, the pregnancy also makes things complicated.

  But I never would have given Vince Fong more than a couple nights if I didn’t get pregnant, because he doesn’t seem, outwardly, like my type.

  I thought life was supposed to get more straightforward as you got older. Instead, I feel more confused.

  The one thing that’s straightforward, however, is that my body always responds to his.

  He places his hand on my knee and slides the hem of my dress up the tiniest bit. I’m tempted to grab his hand and run out of here and head back to his place, but...noodles.

  Vince rests his hand on my stomach. “How’s Baby?”

  “Baby is fine. About the size of a turnip.”

  He moves his hand back to my knee and leans in closer to whisper, “Turnip. Turnip.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to see if I can turn you on just from saying ‘turnip.’”

  I stop myself from squirming.

  “You claimed you weren’t turned on from sitting next to me with your leg pressed against mine, but maybe this will work.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Turnip.”

  “It’s not the word. It’s the fact that your lips are against my ear and I can feel your breath.”

  “You’re still getting turned on by me saying ‘turnip.’ And turnips aren’t even phallic.”

  I snort with laughter as I squirm in my seat. I can’t help myself. This whole conversation is silly, but he’s so good at getting me turned on and making me laugh at the same time.

  I’m about to whisper something equally dirty when the server places bowls of soup with beef and noodles in front of us. I sigh in bliss as the steam from the broth wafts toward my nose.

  “You mentioned you’ve been here before?” I turn to Vince. “The sign out front says ‘grand opening.’”

  “I have, and it’s good. That sign has been up for two years.”

  The noodles are, indeed, delicious.

  Afterward, Vince sexily whispers “matcha double fromage cheesecake” in my ear, and I’m not sure whether he wants to go to Cheese & Me or to bed.

  “I have another idea,” I say. “There’s a Japanese dessert place on Baldwin Street that I’ve been meaning to try. You want to go?”

  “Sure,” he says.

  Carrie posted a bunch of pictures on Instagram, and OMG, they made me salivate.

  I’m also very aware that soon there will be a baby, and going downtown to a dessert shop will be An Operation. In fact, as we approach the shop, I notice there’s a set of stairs up to the front door, and it would be a pain to go here with a stroller. And maybe Baby would start screeching and I’d have to take my food to go.

  But for now, it’s just me and Vince and rows of delectable, cute desserts in a myriad of colors. I get a black sesame latte, and we order a slice of matcha yuzu cake to share.

  It’s just as tasty as it looks.

  “Matcha yuzu cake,” he whispers in my ear as we head outside.

  “I’ve already had that,” I say. “I’m not hungry for it.”

  Which is a lie. I’d eat it again in a heartbeat.

  “Turnip,” he whispers.

  My God, why do the stupidest things make me giggle?

  “Banana,” he says. “One very large banana.”

  “Yellow with spots? Or green and firm?”

  “Marissa, I want you.”

  “Can’t imagine why, after what I just said.”

  “I know, it’s a mystery to me, too.” A smile plays on his lips, but his eyes are dark, and when he stops to cup my jaw and plant a kiss on my cheek, I feel like melting into the ground.

  We go back to his penthouse, and just like the first time I was here, he immediately pushes me against the door—gently, though—and kisses me. He sticks his hand up my skirt and groans when he feels how wet I am from our inane whispering.

  “Vince,” I say, stepping back. “I have a question.”

  “Go ahead.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, presumably to stop himself from touching me.

  “It’s something that’s been bothering me for a while.” Maybe I should have said this earlier, before he got me all hot and bothered.

  “Okay.”

  “You’ve had a lot of sex partners. That number doesn’t bother me, but I can’t help worrying whether you’ll be happy with just me long-term.”

  “You know I’ll be faithful to you.”

  “I trust you, but will you be happy? Or will you miss, you know, other things? Orgies?” Never thought I’d be having this conversation with a guy, yet here we are.

  “Being with you will make me happier than anything.”

  And there I go, feeling guilty again that I don’t love him back.

  “The only thing I could imagine,” he says, “is doing those things with you, if you were into that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When we met, I went down on you in a room full of people.”

  “They weren’t watching.”

  “Some of them were. Regardless, we weren’t alone. And if you want to do that again, well, I’d do it in a heartbeat. And if you want to fuck another man while giving me a blowjob, I could be into that, too. Or swapping, but only if we were in the same room.”

  I asked about what he wanted, but he’s turned this into what I want.

  To be honest, I tried not to think about the fact that I let him lick me in public, that I orgasmed in public. I wanted him so badly that I couldn’t think about anything else. I wasn’t ashamed I went home with a guy I hardly knew and spent the weekend with him, but I was a little ashamed of that part.

  But maybe I’d like to do i
t again. Maybe I’d enjoy watching him with another woman, then taking his cock inside me after she comes. Maybe I’d enjoy two men touching me at the same time.

  I’ve never done anything remotely like that.

  My skin is burning up.

  Vince grins at me, and I hate the space between us. I go to him, and a moment later, he’s tossed my dress, bra, and panties on the floor.

  “You like the thought, don’t you?” he says. “I figured you might.”

  “Have you had threesomes?” I ask.

  “Sure.”

  “Have you fucked two women, one after the other?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you and another man taken turns with a woman?”

  “More than two of us, sometimes.”

  I shut my eyes and imagine Vince and another man, taking turns with me.

  Not long ago, we were talking about turnips, and now this.

  The day we met, I wanted him to myself. But I do have fantasies. I always just considered them fantasies, to keep locked away and brought out with my vibrator. Perhaps they’ll stay that way—or perhaps they’d be fun to explore within a relationship—but at least I can talk about them with him.

  He kneels on the floor in front of me, still in his jeans and polo shirt, even though I’m nude. He pushes his finger inside and wipes my moisture on my leg afterward, showing me how wet I am.

  “You have such a pretty pussy. Everyone would love to see it again.” He sets his mouth on me, tracing my entrance, lapping up my moisture. Spreading my folds with his fingers. “They would know I was the luckiest guy in the room. And maybe, if he asked really nicely, you’d allow another guy to touch you, too.”

  With that, Vince stops talking and starts licking me with abandon. I press his head against me. I can’t let him go. I need to come like this, and it won’t take long. He works two fingers inside me, and I shudder.

  When he licks my clit, my legs start to wobble. He eases me down until I’m lying on the floor, and then he’s licking me again, his hands on my upper thighs, holding me open. God, I love seeing his head between my legs, and if there were other people in the room to watch...

  I clench around him and cry out.

  “Can you take my cock now?” he asks.

  I nod. I’m unable to speak, overcome by that orgasm.

  He carries me into the living room and spreads me out on the sofa with one leg hooked over the back. He doesn’t undress, just opens his pants and slides into me. Oh my. His chest slaps against mine, over and over. Soon it’ll be hard to have sex like this, I’ll get too big, but for now...

  Again and again, he pounds into me, taking me like he did that first night...and yet it’s different now. We’re not simply strangers who find each other attractive. So much has happened since then.

  An ultrasound. Matcha double fromage cheesecake. Mocktails. Raspberry-balsamic sorbet. Crying to a lullaby. Turnips and conversations about threesomes.

  God, our relationship is weird and wonderful.

  “Marissa...I can’t...” He quickens his pace, and a few strokes later, he comes inside me.

  He doesn’t pull out right away but takes my mouth in his and circles my clit with his thumb until I cry out.

  “I love you,” he says.

  And that nearly ruins the moment because I still can’t say it back.

  But we’re here. Together. Like that very first weekend.

  * * *

  We shower, and when I’m dressed in a robe that goes down to my ankles, he opens the door to a room I’ve never been in before.

  There’s a bassinet, a crib, a bouncer, a change table, a stroller, and a little dresser.

  “Every item has been carefully researched and is extremely safe, don’t worry,” he says.

  But I’m not worried, because of course Vince would do his research.

  He took me to a great hand-pulled noodle restaurant, offered to fulfill my sexual fantasies, put together a crib...

  And bought books called Baby Loves Structural Engineering! and Baby Loves Coding! He hands them to me now, followed by a book called Rocket Science for Babies.

  I laugh. “Our child doesn’t need to be a rocket scientist.”

  “Of course not. We’ll love them no matter what. But these are cute, aren’t they?”

  How do I not love him? How can I not say it?

  He’s fallen for me quickly, even though he’s inexperienced in the realm of love, and today, he’s been perfect in so many ways, yet I can’t do it.

  Although he’s not pushing me, I still feel the pressure.

  He’s said it multiple times, and the baby is coming. The timing of that can’t be changed.

  * * *

  When I wake up at three in the morning, I can tell Vince isn’t asleep, either. He’s lying on his back—he usually sleeps on his side—with his hands behind his head.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask.

  “Oh.” He sounds surprised that I’m awake. “You can’t tell Carrie.”

  “Okay.”

  “Brian is in love with me, and he hasn’t taken it well that you and I are...you know.”

  “Brian is in love with you,” I repeat. “How long have you known?”

  “Thirty-four hours?”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Of course. I hate that my closest friend is in love with someone who can’t love him back. And I’m not sure if he wants to stay friends. Anyway...” Vince sighs. “Obviously this is harder for him than it is for me.”

  He holds me close, and we’re quiet for a while. I have no sense of time. It could be five minutes, it could be an hour.

  Soon, I’ll have a baby to feed in the night. When I return to bed, will it be with Vince?

  “What are you thinking about?” he murmurs.

  “My dad,” I answer automatically, even though it’s not true.

  But I have thought about my dad a lot recently.

  I used to talk to him in my mind when I was falling asleep, tell him everything that was happening in my life. Imagine what he’d say in response.

  And I’ve been talking to him as I fall asleep lately, though I hadn’t done so in years.

  But no, that’s not what’s keeping me awake.

  “If I sing the song,” Vince says, “will it help, or will it make you cry?”

  “The latter.”

  He falls asleep a few minutes later, but I stay awake for a long time.

  Chapter 25

  Vince

  It’s a warm day, and I don’t need anything more than a T-shirt and jeans. When we exit the subway station, I put on my sunglasses and strike a pose.

  “Don’t I look cool, Evie?”

  Julian is carrying Evie strapped to his chest, facing outward. I asked my brother about the carrier so I can order one for my collection of baby stuff.

  Evie giggles. She seems in good spirits.

  Courtney smiles, though she looks a little tired. Apparently, Evie is teething and keeps her parents up at night more than she has for months.

  “A few years ago, you never would have taken a Friday afternoon off,” I say to Julian. “You wouldn’t have even left the office before seven.”

  “This is true.”

  “And now, here you are.” I spread out my arms as we follow the crowds into High Park. “A romantic walk to see the cherry blossoms with your wife and baby.”

  Julian squeezes Courtney’s hand then turns to me. “And my little brother.”

  “Yep,” I say cheerfully. “Gotta make sure you stay out of trouble.”

  “Very funny. Usually you’re the one trying to get me into trouble.”

  I shrug. “What can I say?”

  That’s me, the troublemaking younger brother.

  And soon-to-be fiancé and father and family man.

  The change in Julian is perhaps not as surprising as the change in me. Even six months ago, I never could have imagined this.

  Though unlike him, I’m the sort of person
who swings wildly from one thing to another.

  “It’s so pretty,” Courtney sighs as we pass the first cherry tree with pale pink blossoms.

  “It’s not quite at peak bloom,” I say.

  “Pretty close.”

  Evie makes a squawk. Of agreement, I presume.

  They have a point. It’s close to perfect...just not quite perfect, and I want the best for Marissa.

  “A few more might open by tomorrow morning,” Julian points out.

  We stop by a cherry tree. I hold up my phone and point it at Julian and Evie.

  “Say ‘phallic cactus!’” I snap a picture. When I put my phone down, I ruffle my niece’s hair. “That would have been a great time for your first word, Evie.”

  The park is packed with people who have come to enjoy the Sakura trees for their brief bloom. As a group of Asian people taking pictures, we fit right in.

  After a few more photos, we continue south.

  “I’m glad you’re not such a workaholic stick-in-the-mud now,” I say to Julian. “It’s nice to take an afternoon off, isn’t it?”

  He grunts. “Yes.”

  I stop walking. I feel a strange urge to tell him something I’ve never told him before. “I was the one who put the idea in Mom’s head that you might burn out.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah, and it was my idea for us to storm into your office—”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “—and demand you take a two-week break. Underneath my fun, charming exterior, I really was worried. Because of my own experience, although you’re more capable in many ways than I am.”

  He puts a hand on my shoulder. “You never let on that you worked so hard.”

  “I was trying to measure up to you. Not because I wanted to be more successful and beat you at life. Just because, well...” You’re my big brother, and I look up to you.

  “So you started a company and sold it for two hundred million dollars.”

  I shrug. “It seemed sensible. I would have held out for more money, but you know. I burnt out. Couldn’t do it anymore.”

  He sighs heavily, as though he doesn’t know what the hell to do with me, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

  I smile.

  “You made more money than I ever did,” he says. “Then you ran in the other direction and started hanging out with Brian Poon.”