“All the more reason for you to quit.”
“You’re trying to get me all pissed off so we can have angry sex, aren’t you?”
His hand caressed her breast, idly teasing the ultra-sensitive nipple through the fabric of her top. “If I was trying to get you angry, firecracker, I’d show you that white bikini I got for you to be married in.”
“Reese,” she said in a warning tone. “I’m not wearing a bikini on a public beach.”
“It’s a good thing it’s a private beach, eh?”
She should have protested. Pitched a fit. She knew he’d bought it purely to get a rise out of her. It was probably ridiculous—something with a string for a strap and a thong in the back. He seemed to think she was some sort of nubile ubervixen . . . not that she minded, really. But laying against him made her sleepy, and his hands felt so good on her breasts that she didn’t even complain.
“See?” he murmured, kissing her hair. “You’re exhausted. That does it. I’m letting Logan have it when we get back to New York.”
“No, you’re not,” she said softly. The reason for her exhaustion had nothing to do with her job.
She was pregnant.
It was, in retrospect, a bit of a nightmare. After that initial torrid interlude in the closet, she’d gotten on the Pill. Unfortunately, she hadn’t gotten on the Pill quick enough, and by the time her next period had rolled around, it didn’t happen. She blamed it on stress and the Pill itself because her life had been turned upside down. Stress from moving in with Reese, Daphne’s enrollment into rehab, juggling her job—all of it would have driven a normal person insane. But when she missed her period for the second month in a row, she went back to the doctor. Sure enough, she was pregnant.
And she didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t told Reese yet. Part of her was utterly terrified that he’d look at it as her trying to entrap him into a long-lasting relationship. She wondered if he’d blame her because she was supposed to be on the Pill. And she was, but she’d still somehow managed to get knocked up.
She had to tell him. Before they got married, so he could still get out of things. But she’d put it off. She’d meant to tell him before they’d left for Hawaii, but it had never been just the right time. Reese had been busy with plans for the new Durham Industries cruise line, along with the investment into an exclusive line of high-end luxury cars he’d partnered with Jonathan Lyons on. Once his billionaire buddies had heard about his financial issues, they’d leapt in with both feet to assist him, and Reese was doing better than ever.
Busier than ever, too.
She hugged him a little closer, resting her cheek against him.
“Why so sad, baby?” Reese ran his thumb over her lower lip, caressing her. He constantly touched her when they were together, something she found she enjoyed quite a bit. It was as if he couldn’t help himself and had to be touching and caressing her at all times. “Is it Daphne? Are you regretting our bet?”
She gave his abdomen a light smack. “You know I never back down from a bet.”
Dares and bets had become their thing. It was a fun way to get the other riled up, which led to passionate sex and then even more sex. Audrey dared Reese to invest in something he didn’t want to. Reese dared Audrey to wear something low cut. The stakes changed frequently, from kisses to public makeouts to anything and everything they could think of.
One stake frequently ended up on the table, though: anal sex.
Audrey was pretty sure Reese brought it up constantly as a trump card. But he hadn’t won a bet in which anal had been brought into play. They hadn’t explored that part of their relationship yet, but she had a bottle of lube in her carryon that she hadn’t told him about. They’d joked that they’d save it for the honeymoon and it was here.
Today’s bet had included anal, too. Reese had bet her that she couldn’t go without calling Daphne while on their honeymoon. She bet that she could. If she lost, they would have anal sex. If she won, he owed her a full body massage every day for a month.
She was dangerously close to losing the bet already, and the plane was still somewhere over the Pacific. Because right now? She desperately needed to talk to her twin. Despite being in extended on-location rehab, Daphne had been allowed a private cell phone that only had one number programmed into it—hers. It was her only condition on going into rehab, and one that all parties had given into gracefully. The twins talked on the phone daily, sharing secrets and discussing how Daphne was doing, how Audrey’s relationship was going, and everything in between.
Audrey had her sister back, and it was the best thing in the world.
She stroked a hand down Reese’s flat stomach. Well, tied for best thing in the world.
“You hungry?” Reese asked her, still running his hands over her body.
“Mmm, I could eat.”
“You lay here and I’ll let the attendant know we want lunch.” He slid off the couch and headed to the front of the private jet, where the attendant and pilot were located.
She waited for him to disappear, and then as soon as he did, she jumped up and ran to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Since he still had her phone, she’d have to use the one in the bedroom. She had time for a quick call, too; Reese was good friends with the pilot and often stopped up to the cockpit to chat with him for a few minutes.
Audrey quickly dialed Daphne’s number.
Her twin picked up on the second ring. “I was wondering when you’d call. How’s it going?”
“Reese bet me that I wouldn’t call while we were on our honeymoon,” Audrey said with a sigh. “So I have to make this short.”
“That’s fine. I have group in about ten minutes anyhow.” Daphne’s voice was cheerful and strong. Gone was the thready uncertainty, the shaking, and the sullenness. The rehab seemed to be working, but Audrey wasn’t going to get her hopes up too much. She’d give it time. If Daphne could stay clean for a year, then maybe this had a chance. Three months made her optimistic, though. More than that, Daphne herself seemed to be changed. For the first time she truly, genuinely seemed to want to get better. She’d cut ties with her label, citing that she needed a career vacation. She still had two albums under contract with them, but since she’d been clear that she wasn’t interested in the money or fame any longer, they’d negotiated down to a remix album and a greatest hits album—for a much smaller price tag. Daphne hadn’t minded it at all.
She said she was done with music. Audrey didn’t know if that was the case, but she liked this new aspect of her twin.
“So did you tell him?” Daphne asked, excitement in her voice.
“Not yet,” Audrey said, a trembling note in hers. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be a baby. Just suck it up and tell him. I . . . are you crying?”
“No,” Audrey said, and then ruined it with a watery sniff. Damn it. The pregnancy hormones were making her insane. She’d cried three times in the last week over stupid stuff.
“Well, you need to stop,” Daphne said sensibly. “Especially if you want to keep this a secret. If he sees you crying, he’s really going to think something’s up.”
“I just don’t know what to do, Daph,” Audrey said, wiping away her tears. “What if he doesn’t want it?”
“Then the two of us raise that baby with Twinkie power,” Daphne said stubbornly. “It can have two moms. Or just one. We can pitch-hit and switch out. I’ll put on some boring clothes and re-dye my hair and the kid will never suspect a thing.”
Audrey gave a weepy giggle. “Great. Don’t forget that you need to put on some weight, too.”
“This is true. You have bras bigger than the dress I wore to last year’s Grammys.”
The comment made her think of the white bikini Reese had bought her, and she burst into new tears. A white bikini for their wedding. What if he didn’t want to get married when he found out she was pregnant?
“Oh, jeez,” Daphne said soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Twinkie. Calm down.”
“Audrey?” Reese stood in the doorway of the bedroom, frowning at her.
“I gotta go. I’ll call you later,” she whispered to Daph, and hung up.
“Why are you crying?” Reese shut the door behind him and strode across the bedroom to her, a black look on his face.
“It’s nothing.”
His fingers swept over her cheeks, brushing away her tears. She looked up at him and the edges of his mouth whitened with anger. “It’s not nothing. Is it your sister?”
“No, Reese—”
“I’m going to fucking kill her if she’s pulling another one of her stunts. It’s bad enough that she’s stressing you out. What did she do this time?”
“Reese, she didn’t do anything—” Her hands brushed his aside.
“I’m going to turn this fucking plane around and then I’m going to go choke her by her scrawny neck for making you cry again. Goddamn, I—”
“Reese! Shut up!” Audrey exploded. “I’m pregnant, okay? I’m pregnant and I’m freaking out.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she clapped a hand over her lips. Oh, hell. That wasn’t how she’d wanted to tell him. How did he always manage to rile her so much?
“Pregnant?” Reese stared down at her, stunned. “You’re sure?”
“That’s why I’m tired,” she told him in a dull voice. “And that’s why I’m crying. Hormones, for the most part. So yeah. Pregnant. I guess I didn’t get on the Pill fast enough.” Her stomach was tying in knots of anxiety, and she had to force the next part out of her throat. “I wanted to tell you before we got married. So, you know, you had time to change your mind. I know we were relieved when—”
“Audrey?”
“Hmm?”
“Do me a favor and shut up.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
Reese leaned in and kissed her on the nose, his hand clasping the back of her neck. “A baby, huh?” A wide grin crossed his face. “Damn. I must have some incredible sperm.”
She snorted and gave him a light thwap on the abdomen. “Now you’re just trying to make me laugh.”
“Is it working?” He leaned in and kissed her again, this time on the mouth, and this time with more excitement. “You know I can’t stand to see you cry.”
“Well, I’m going to cry for the next seven months or so,” she said in an irritable voice. “So if you are going to stick around, you might want to get used to it.”
“Stick around? What the fuck does that mean?” He sounded genuinely offended.
Audrey sighed. “It means I won’t force you to get married, Reese. I know this isn’t what we wanted.”
“Audrey,” he said softly, and dropped to his knees in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her stomach. “How can you think that I don’t want you or our child?”
She started to get weepy all over again. Reese was being so sweet, so wonderful. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really match the playboy lifestyle.”
“Neither does getting married,” Reese pointed out. “But I’ve been bugging you to marry me for the last three months. You’re the one dragging your feet.”
She was, it was true. Audrey sighed and brushed her fingertips through his hair. “You’re not upset?”
“Upset? At the thought of little ginger babies? Hell no.” He got back to his feet and grabbed her by the waist and swung her around. “Holy shit. We’re going to be parents.”
“Reese.” She tapped on his arm, torn between laughing and throwing up. “Can you put me down?”
“Absolutely.” He moved to the bed and dumped her on it, and then a moment later he was crawling over her before she had a chance to get up. He began to kiss her with fierce, sweeping movements of his tongue, and she responded immediately, growing slick with desire. He settled between her legs and she immediately wrapped them around his hips, tugging him against her.
“I love you, Audrey,” Reese told her between kisses. “That hasn’t changed a bit.” He raised his head for a moment and looked down at her, stunned. “Holy shit. We made a baby.”
“We did,” she said in a small voice, beginning to feel a little better about things. His excitement was genuine, and his excitement was making her excited. And then she smacked him on the arm. “Ginger baby?”
He grinned and cupped one of her breasts in his hand. “Are these beauties going to get bigger?”
“Yes.” They were already and her bras were fitting tight.
“Hot damn, I’m in heaven.” Reese kissed her again. “Big breasts and anal sex in an airplane on the way to Hawaii.”
She laughed at that. “I thought we were waiting for the honeymoon.”
“We were,” he said, then wiggled his eyebrows at her again in a cocky gesture. “But someone dared me that she couldn’t call her twin, and she lost. That makes me think she wants me pretty badly.”
Audrey gave a soft sigh, staring up at him. “I’ll always want you, Reese. I love you.”
“I love you, too, firecracker.” He kissed her again, this time soft and with wonder. “I love you and our baby.”
She smiled at him, her eyes brimming again.
And then he kissed her one more time. “But there’s no way you’re getting out of this bet now.”
And she laughed.
Keep reading for a preview of the first book in the Billionaire Boys Club series
STRANDED WITH A BILLIONAIRE
Available now from InterMix
Even though the bar was thumping with loud music and the crowd was shoulder to shoulder, no one approached Logan Hawkings. He stood alone, an island of calm in a roiling sea of bodies. It might have been the “fuck off” expression on his face, or the crisp cut of his expensive tailored clothing that told people he didn’t belong in this neighborhood. It could have been because he walked with an arrogant swagger that made men get out of the way and women nudge their girlfriends with interest.
None of that mattered. He wasn’t here to socialize.
He moved past the bar, down a narrow hall to a back room. A man—tall, head shaven—stood in front of the door there. The guard wore sunglasses despite being indoors, a suit, and an earpiece with a black cord that wound behind his ear and around the back of his neck. His posture becoming alert, the bodyguard watched Logan as he approached.
With a practiced ease, Logan swept the second and third fingers of his right hand over his shoulder and then rested them on his biceps in the exact spot where his tattoo lay under his clothing.
The man nodded and stepped aside.
Logan pushed the door open and strode down the stairs into the basement. Already there was a thick haze of cigar smoke above the large green octagon table set up in the center of the room. A buffet had been set up off to one side and was being ignored. Beer bottles and poker chips littered the table. Ah, Brotherhood night. His favorite night of the week. Logan gave the room a quick once-over. Everyone was here already; he was the last one to arrive. No surprise there.
The men seated at the table were roughly the same age. All were clean-cut, fit and wore clothes that spoke of money. They all carried themselves with the confidence that success brought, though in some, the confidence was more swagger than anything.
Beside the empty chair held for him sat Hunter Buchanan, the scarred, silent real-estate tycoon, and Logan’s most trusted friend. Next to him sat Reese Durham, a young, brash man on the cusp of hitting his billion-dollar fortune. Beside him sat Griffin Verdi, English aristocracy and the ‘professor’ of their small group. Then was Jonathan Lyons, owner of Lyon Automotives and notorious adventurer and thrill seeker. At his side was Cade Archer, the philanthropist of their group.
The five men barely glanced up from their cards as he entered.
“You’re late,” Reese Durham told him, a cigar hanging from his mouth. He examined his cards, face impassive.
Logan slipped his jacket off and tossed it into a corner, then moved to the only empty seat at the table. Cade r
aised a hand in greeting. Logan grasped it and then turned to clap Hunter Buchanan on the back. The man’s scars looked hideous in the dim light of the room.
“About time you got here,” Cade said in a pleasant voice. “Reese was just asking about Gloria.”
Logan frowned, shaking his head as he sat down between the two men. “Gloria who?”
Reese grinned at him across the table. “You know. Stacked Gloria with the big blond hair. I guess you’re not seeing her anymore? You brought her to the Stewart fund-raiser a few months ago.”
Had he? Logan couldn’t recall. He hadn’t had a second date with anyone since . . . well, since Danica. Hadn’t been interested enough and hadn’t made the time. “I don’t recall a Gloria.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I dated her? I met her at a party the other night and wouldn’t mind seeing her again.”
“Care?” Logan snorted. “I can’t even recall her face. She’s all yours.”
“Did you know she’s a friend of Danica’s?” Reese asked.
“Then you’re more than welcome to her,” Logan said, his voice cool. “If she’s a friend of Danica’s, she can burn in hell for all I care.”
“Thought you’d say that,” Reese said cheerfully.
“Just do me a favor and don’t bring up Danica again,” Logan said, his tone friendly but with a touch of warning.
The last thing he wanted to do was discuss a money-grubbing gold digger. She was in his past, and he had no intention of dwelling on her. His father had mocked him for falling for Danica. He’d said that Logan was being a stupid fool. Turned out the old buzzard had been right all along.
And that grated more than anything.
“So what took you so long?” Hunter pulled out a stack of chips, glancing over at Logan.
A smooth, effortless change of subject. Logan turned to Hunter and gave the scarred man a check for his share that evening. Hunter added it to the bank and shoved the pile of chips in his direction.
“I have a new driver,” Logan said. “He got lost.” His tone implied that it wouldn’t happen again.
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