Emily McKay – Baby for the Tycoon: The Tycoon's Temporary Baby / The Texas Billionaire's Baby / Navy Officer to Family Man (страница 21)
Jonathon stood behind his desk along the west wall. She was unused to seeing him in casual clothes, and couldn’t help admiring how good he looked in a simple cotton T-shirt and jeans. Though his laptop was out on his desk, it wasn’t open. There was a manila file in his hand.
“Oh,” she murmured as he looked up. “It’s you.”
His lips twitched. “Who’d you expect?”
“I…” She paused, momentarily stumped. Finally, she admitted, “I thought you were downstairs in the R&D lab. With my father and Big Hank.”
“Nope.” He frowned, obviously puzzling through why she would have thought that. “We ran into Matt. He offered to show them around.”
“Oh.” Relief flooded her. He wasn’t off schmoozing her family. He hadn’t fallen under their spell.
“Why’d you come in?” he asked.
“Oh, well I…” Not wanting to admit she suspected him of underhanded business tactics, she made a vague gesture toward her office. “Same as you. Wanted to catch up on some work.”
Suddenly, now that her fears about Jonathon had been dispelled, another emotion came rushing into the void left by them: desire. Or maybe it had been there all along, right under the surface, waiting for an excuse to rise to the top, as it always did.
“Right.” He nodded. “Since I figure we won’t be in tomorrow we might as well—”
“Why won’t you be in tomorrow?” she asked, without really listening for the answer, because her mind was back in the bedroom, the night before, hearing him confess how much he wanted her. And she was remembering how he’d looked in the light of that ridiculous pink hippo, the bedsheet pulled only to his waist, the muscles of his chest so clearly defined despite the dim lighting.
“Your family. They’ll still be here then.”
“So? What does that have to do with your work?”
“While they’re here, our first priority is convincing them we’re a happy couple. We can’t do that if we’re not together.” “But work—” she protested. “Can wait for a few days.”
Whoever he was, she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She was going to have a hard enough time sleeping in the same bed with him for the next week. She’d been counting on their time at the office to return to normalcy. Now more than ever, she needed him to be the hard, analytical boss she was used to.
Her mind was still reeling from that little bomb when Jonathon said, “Since we’re both here, why don’t you go grab your computer and we’ll try to get some work done?”
“The thing is, Jonathon, I—”
Then she broke off abruptly. Because what could she really say? He was waiting, expectantly. Looking so handsome it made her heart ache. “The thing is, I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?”
“Slip so easily between the work me and the me that has to pretend to be your wife. I don’t know why it seems so easy for you, but—”
“You think this is easy for me?”
“Well. Yes. You barely seem aware that at this time yesterday you were kissing me. Or that last night we slept in the same bed.” She paused, waiting for him to say something. Though his gaze darkened, he didn’t comment and suddenly she felt ridiculous for saying these things aloud. “Which is fine, I mean, this is my problem. I’ll figure it out. But I think I just need to get out of here for a couple of hours. Get my head on straight.”
Maybe that trip to Cabo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
She turned and had made it most of the way to the door when he grabbed her arm and turned her around. She barely caught her balance when he pulled her roughly against him and kissed her.
His mouth was hot and firm on hers. It only took a second for her to lose herself in the sensation of being kissed by him. No, not just kissed, devoured. She felt completely swept away by it. By him. By the sensation of his hand gently cupping her jaw. By his arm at her back, pressing her body to his. The feel of his lips as they moved over hers in a hundred delicate kisses.
“This is not easy,” he pulled back just long enough to say. And then he kissed her again. “It’s never been easy.” Another kiss. “Not once in five years.” And another kiss. “Not once has it been easy.” And another. “To stay away from you.”
And then his tongue was in her mouth, seducing her with long, slow strokes, stirring heat in her body. Making her all but tremble with need. She felt as though her skin was overheated. Tingly and antsy. As if she was on fire. Her nipples prickled, demanding to be touched and she arched against him, pressing her breasts to his chest, desperate for some kind of contact. And still it wasn’t enough.
Wrapping her arms around him, she twined her fingers into his hair and pulled him back just enough to ask, “Then why did you stay away?”
He gazed down at her, his eyes foggy with lust. “I don’t know.”
And for the life of her, she didn’t know either. Honest to God, she couldn’t think of one damn reason why they shouldn’t be together. It had nothing to do with Peyton or the marriage. Nothing to do with her family or the rebellious tendencies she’d thought were long dead. This was about them. It had always been about them. And now that she was kissing him—now that his hands were all over her, making her tremble—she couldn’t think of any reason why they should stay apart. When it was so obvious that they were meant to be together.
His lips moved from her mouth down to her neck, leaving a delicate trail of red-hot nibbles. She arched into his lips, all but praying he’d move lower and take her breast into his mouth.
“Oh, Jonathon,” she murmured. “Please…”
She wasn’t sure what exactly she was pleading for. Not when there were so many things she wanted him to do to her. So many places on her body she wanted him to touch and explore. All she knew was she wanted more. All of him.
Then abruptly, he let go of her and stepped away. Her body sagged with mounting desire, her legs limp and barely able to hold her up.
Thank goodness, she didn’t need to support her own weight for long. His hand grasped her bottom, lifted her firmly against him and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. The position was perfect. Exquisite. As if her body had been precisely designed to wrap around his.
Her leggings were thin enough that she could feel the denim of his jeans through the delicate fabric. She felt every seam, every ridge. The hard line of his erection beneath his zipper pressed against the very center of her. She rocked her hips, increasing the pressure against her core, sending fissures of pleasure rocketing through her body.
He groaned low in his throat, still kissing her. Then he pulled his mouth away from hers. “You’re killing me here.”
She grinned, brimming with pure feminine pride. “Am I?” she asked, shifting her hips again, delighting in tormenting him. But the sensation was too divine and she shuddered as well.
He muttered a curse that was half exasperation, half pride. “I shouldn’t do this,” he muttered. “I should be stronger than this, but I can’t…” He nipped at her neck in a primal, animalistic sort of way that sent a shower of pleasure radiating across her skin. “I can’t stay away any longer.”
A second later, she felt him bump against the edge of his desk. He lowered her slowly down the length of his body. She didn’t have even a moment to miss his warmth or the pressure against her sensitive skin, because he reached under the hem of her shirt and hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her tights and pulled them down her legs in one smooth movement, stripping away her panties as he did so.
She kicked off her shoes as she stepped out of her leggings, naked from the waist down. Her shirt hit her mid-thigh, but the fabric was gossamer thin and left her feeling scandalously exposed. Standing in her boss’s office, half-naked, trembling with desire.
He stepped back to look at her. The heat in his gaze made her skin prickle. Suddenly she was very aware of her hardened nipples pressing against the thin cotton of her bra. Of the moisture between her legs and the cool air on her thighs.
A feeling of vulnerability started to creep in under the heat of desire. Then she looked up and saw the expression on Jonathon’s face. It was part dumbstruck awe and part reverent glee. Like a little boy standing in front of a Christmas tree, staring at the presents, wondering which one was his.
She brought her hands to the buttons running down the front of her shirt. Then flicked them free, one by one. His gaze stayed glued to the progression of her hands. He didn’t move an inch. Except for his hands, which slowly curled into fists. As if it was all he could do not to reach for her and rip the shirt off her body himself. As if she was his deepest fantasy come to life.
For all she knew, maybe she was.
She wanted to think so. Needed to believe it. Because he was certainly hers.
It wasn’t a fantasy she’d consciously entertained. Never something she dwelled on. Nevertheless, the idea of being with Jonathon, of seeing exactly this expression in his gaze… it had always been there. Right beneath the surface of her thoughts. Niggling at the edge of her awareness. She’d pushed it aside countless times. But now she pulled it from the depths of her mind and let it out into the light of day.