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“Hear, hear.” Walter lifted his glass in a toast. “Now if you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Reagert?”
“Of course. Nice speaking with you both.” Lauren relaxed as the older couple walked away. Jason had read the situation right. All was well. She thumbed her wedding band, watching the Prentices. Forty years married. What would that be like? Staying with one person for more than half your life? While the Prentices seemed to have everything, Angela’s sad eyes made Lauren think about all she had in New York.
Shaking her head, she pivoted and came face-to-face with… the very woman she’d been avoiding most of the evening.
Celia Taylor winced visibly.
Lauren considered making a quick excuse and speedy exit, then changed her mind. Running or evading would only fuel possible rumors. And weren’t there already enough rumors about this woman floating around? While she should hate Celia, instead, she felt kind of sorry for her. The business world could be catty and vicious to beautiful women.
So Lauren plastered a big—hopefully genuine-looking—smile on her face. “Hello, Celia. I was just looking for you. I’m still new in town and was wondering if you could recommend a good hairstylist.”
Sheesh, that sounded lame. So much for ignoring the issue of looks. Why hadn’t she thought to ask about work? Or consult on some other business matter? Or even ask for a freaking art gallery? Hell, she was committed to the conversation, so might as well forge ahead. She really wanted to smooth over any awkwardness with Jason’s coworker.
Celia blinked fast, scrunching her too-darn-perfect nose. “Sure, sure, I’ll e-mail you the name of my salon and spa.”
“I appreciate it.” She also needed to find a new ob/gyn out here, as well, if she was going to visit Jason again. Or maybe stay longer.
“I’m sorry about the other day,” Celia said softly, leaning closer, her cologne expensive and probably delightful, but pregnancy heightened Lauren’s sense of smell in a fickle way. It had to be the pregnancy, right? Not the fact that right now she resented the woman for merely existing.
Now wasn’t that utterly ridiculous? Celia Taylor hadn’t done anything wrong. The jealousy was totally Lauren’s issue, not this woman’s. “Really, there’s no need for things to be awkward.”
“Of course not. I just wanted to make sure you know there’s nothing between Jason and me. I mean, I was asking about after-work plans… if he was going to Rosa Lounge with others from the office.”
Celia wouldn’t have asked in the first place if there’d been an inkling Jason was already in a relationship. Except he hadn’t been. Not really. If their mutual friend hadn’t sent Jason that photo showing Lauren pregnant, would he have accepted Celia’s drink offer?
Jealousy nipped all the harder, after all. Reminding herself it wasn’t Celia’s fault didn’t seem to be helping. “Seriously, it’s okay. I was the one who insisted on keeping our relationship quiet. If there’s anyone to blame for it not being obvious Jason was already taken, the fault is mine.”
Celia exhaled long and hard. “I’m so relieved to hear that. I hate office gossip. God, you’re a really nice person.”
Then why was she obsessing over how Celia didn’t have to wear a tent of a dress to hide her stomach? No water retention on that woman, for sure.
And why was she thinking about impressing the Prentices? And finding an ob/gyn in San Francisco?
Because like it or not, she was drawn to Jason. For four months she’d been trying to work him out of her system—unsuccessfully. Ignoring him hadn’t worked.
Lauren looked across the room again, finding him, wanting him. Jason’s chin tipped as if he sensed her watching him, sensed her. He turned his head almost imperceptibly and his intense eyes locked with hers. A delicious tingle of awareness prickled over her, tightening her nerves with a deep need to wriggle against him skin to skin.
She couldn’t run from the truth any longer. Her passion for Jason hadn’t even begun to be tapped out. Denying it—denying herself—only made the ache grow stronger as pressure built.
She understood all about hormonal rushes from pregnancy, and maybe that added an edge, but still she knew it was something beyond just the raging hormones. She certainly hadn’t tried to jump any of the other men who crossed her path, and heaven knew there were plenty of hot, high-powered men in this room.
But she only wanted Jason.
Starting tonight, she would try a new approach. Indulging every fantasy she’d ever entertained about her brand-new husband.
Nine
The MC dinner had been a success. Jason had everything he’d wanted.
So why was he so damn irritable?
Stuffing his hands in his tuxedo pockets after locking up the house for the night, he stared at his sexy wife on the other side of their living room, fairly certain she was the cause of his frustration. The ride home had been off somehow. He’d pointed out scenic spots of interest along the way, trying to show her the upside of living here, but she stayed silent for the most part, staring at him with an intensity he found unsettling, since he didn’t have a clue what she was thinking.
Lauren stood in the bay window, moonlight streaming through and glinting off the metallic beads on the bodice of her evening gown. She was both stunning and elegant at once. She was perfect in every regard. So much so, she made him see just how well their lives could fit together.
This hands-off idea of his was growing old fast. He wanted it all—wanted her—now. Her dress showcased her generous breasts until his hands shook from restrained desire. Gathered high on her waist, the loose folds hid any evidence of the baby, satin fabric pooling around her feet in low heels. Her hair was smoothed into a sleek twist with one long strand grazing her cheek like the stroke of the backs of his fingers along her jaw.
Male eyes had followed her all night long, damn near making him crazy with the need to remind them she was with him. She carried his baby. But he wouldn’t behave like some kind of possessive ass.
Besides, he was too proud of her. He’d almost forgotten what a savvy businesswoman she was. She’d won over not only Prentice, but had worked the room, charming people and making contacts that would help her, as well as him. What a surprise to find her serene confidence turned him on just as much as her lush curves.
He stopped behind her, cupping her bare shoulders, determined to help her see how well their worlds were in synch. “You were amazing tonight. You absolutely had Prentice eating out of the palm of your hand.”
She looked back, the lone strand of hair caressing her face the way he longed to do. “He seems a nice enough man, nicer than I expected, actually, after how rigid he seems in his criteria for how other people should live their lives.”
“He certainly took to you.” Jason slid his arms around her, encouraged that she didn’t protest or stiffen. He linked his fingers over her stomach. The baby rolled lightly, then settled. “His wife did, too, for that matter.”
“She seems like such a sad lady.” Lauren leaned back against him, the sweet scent of her shampoo seeping deeper inside him. “I can’t help wondering if the high-powered lifestyle suits her as much as it does him.”
“How about you? Do you enjoy that kind of gig?” An important part of his life that could cause a real problem. The MC work-grind-and-party circuit had certainly tanked Flynn Maddox’s marriage.
“Are you kidding? You’ve known me for a year. I thrive on that sort of wheeling and dealing.” She shifted to fit more firmly against him, her bottom nestling intimately until there was no damn way she could miss his throbbing response.
“You certainly keep your cool under pressure.” His blood pressure, however, was skyrocketing over just the feel of her brushing back against him. Right now he just wanted to sink into the moment. With her.
She glanced at him. “What are you thinking?”
Might as well be honest. “Just can’t look away from you. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
“Stop. You don’t have to flatter me.” Her hands slid over his on her stomach. “I know my waist disappeared a couple of weeks ago.”
“I wasn’t the only one who noticed you.” Primitive possessiveness pumped through him all over again. “You’re sexy as hell. That pregnancy-glow stuff is for real.” His wayward thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts. “All week long I’ve been aching to touch you.”
She laughed lightly, turning in his arms to face him, giving him a clear view of creamy cleavage. “Ah, so it’s all about the extra cup size.”
“An extra cup?” Hell, call him Cro-Magnon, but he absolutely couldn’t tear his eyes off her chest, couldn’t stop the thoughts of how much he wanted to peel her clothes from her and see every inch he’d missed during their hurried, half-clothed, one-time coupling. “Do you know what I’d give to see you out of that dress? God, Lauren, I heard what you said about no sex, but I’m about to die from wanting you. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off you.”
She toyed with his tie, her fingers soft and enticing against his neck. “Maybe I’ve revised my thinking on the no-sex notion.”
Her words slammed through him. He’d been hoping to make progress with Lauren, but could the dinner have shown her the same practical synchronicity of their lives that he’d observed?
Regardless, he certainly wasn’t going to question the awesome opportunity of having her warm and willing in his arms.
Jason brushed a kiss along her ear, nuzzling aside the loose strand of hair. “Maybe revising your no-sex policy?”
She turned to meet his mouth, her body fluid against him, her arms sliding up around his neck. Her pupils widened with desire, urging him on. “Definitely revising.”
Growling his relief, he kissed her, finally and fully, finding her open and ready and boldly seeking. It had been too long, too many nights waking up hard and unfulfilled from dreaming about her.
Lauren clutched at his shoulders, her hands strong and insistent, like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Her fingers crawled up his collar and furrowed into his hair, urging him closer. Not close enough, since they still wore too damn many clothes.
He cupped her bottom, bringing her flush against him—which reminded him of his need for restraint. “What’s the best way to make this happen that’s safe for you and the baby?”
With nimble fingers, she swept aside his tuxedo jacket. “At four and half months, it’s really not an issue yet. The books and my doctor all say to get inventive with positions down the road. Perhaps we should start practicing ahead of time?”
“You’re putting some mighty powerful images in my mind.” Of her now… of her later. Would they still be together then? He had a chance to sway her and he intended to make the most of it, because he was quickly learning that just a taste of Lauren was nowhere near enough. “How is it that you can turn me inside out with just that sexy voice of yours?”
“Words can be an aphrodisiac, too. I have some fantasies I’d like to share.”
With one hand, he reached past her and whipped the curtains closed. “Listening to you talk about anything beats the hell out of oysters any day of the week.”
Sighing her agreement, she nipped his bottom lip. He tugged the zipper down her spine, the expensive gown parting, sliding free to reveal…
His mouth went dry.
Lauren stood in a strapless lace bra and tiny matching bikini panties that sketched just below the gentle curve of her stomach. Metallic gold threads glinted in the off-white lace, drawing his eyes to alluring curves and creamy skin. He touched, stroked, couldn’t think of anything more gorgeous than Lauren swelling with his child. The woman was a walking fertility goddess. He went so hard he thought she could very well bring him to his knees.
Her eyes heavy lidded with undisguised excitement, she plucked pins from her hair and shook the sleek updo free in a tumble over her shoulders. “One of us is vastly overdressed. Ditch the clothes, wonderboy. I have definitely been fantasizing about having you pose for me naked.”
“Pose?” His hand hesitated on his buttons.
“I took art classes in drawing the male body while in college, you know.”
He frowned. “I’m not so sure I like the idea of nude guys hanging out with you.”
She trailed a nail down his chest. “Then get naked.”
“Happy to accommodate.” His eyes locked on hers, he shrugged out of his shirt, toed off his shoes and socks. Urgency pulsed through him, but taking his time meant he got to stare at her all the longer. They’d gone at each other so fast in her office, there hadn’t been a chance for him to memorize the look of her.
Although the feel of being buried deep inside her silken walls was seared in his mind.
He kicked aside his pants and boxers, and extended a hand for her. She clasped his hand in one of hers and with her other, scratched a manicured nail down his chest. His heartbeat surged in response.
He tugged her toward him and she leaned against his chest, giving him easy access to unhook her bra and sweep it away. Satin and lace glided over his hands before sailing to the floor.
She arched against him, flattening her generous breasts to his chest with a moan of pleasure. “I don’t think I can wait any longer. Can we go slow the second time?”
“My pleasure.” Because a second encounter meant she wasn’t going to boot his ass out right away afterward.
He backed her against the wall, grateful for the blank space, not that he would have given a damn if they’d knocked a Monet to the floor. She kissed him, bit him, scored her finger down his back as she shared ideas for the two of them together—white-hot fantasies—that let him know loud and clear she burned for this as much as he did. He swept away her panties, allowing himself a leisurely second to feel her warmth still lingering on the scrap of fabric. Amazing, but no substitute for the real thing, which happened to be right here in his arms.
Lauren hooked a leg on his hip and he didn’t need any further invitation to explore. He found her slick and ready. He dipped his head to her breasts, drawing a taut nipple between his teeth carefully. The sound of her sigh, the way she tightened in his mouth, sent a charge through him until he throbbed against her stomach.
She cupped him, stroked him, her intent clear.
“Now? Here? You’re sure?” Even clearly seeing the passion in her eyes, the same wild want he’d found four months ago, he needed to hear her say it, to confirm she wanted frantic sex against a wall as much as he did.
Her grip tightened ever so slightly. “If you don’t take the edge off, I’m going to explode without you in about ninety seconds.”
He throbbed in her hand. “Ninety seconds?”
“Eighty-nine.” She circled her thumb over him.
He hitched her other leg up until she locked her ankles around his waist. He cupped her behind and lifted, positioning… She braced her hands on his shoulders and lowered, taking him inside her again… the way he remembered, except better, because nothing could have felt this amazing.
Her head fell to rest on his shoulder.
“Everything all right?” he said against her hair, holding himself in check, barely. The room around them faded as his world narrowed to the silky warm clamp of her body.
“Seventy-one seconds,” she gasped, “and counting.” Her chest rising and falling rapidly, she rocked her hips. He didn’t need any more encouragement than that.
He thrust while she wriggled to get closer. She whispered urgent pleas, her voice growing breathier, her skin flushing, and yes, he was watching every nuance of her face. They might be rushing, but he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to see her, a gift he’d lost out on their first time.
Now, he savored the graceful arch of her neck as she threw her head back. The perspiration dotting her brow, her eyes shutting tighter with each increasingly loud moan. The way she bit down on her lip until the cry of completion burst free in an awesome expression of just how high he’d taken her. Lauren’s heels pressed deeper into his back, vise-gripping them together. Her voice ricocheted into the high ceilings, their coming together noisy and uninhibited in a way they hadn’t been able to indulge in at her office.
Who’d have thought his reserved wife would be a screamer? And the knowledge that he’d been the one to bring those sweet cries from her mouth sent him slamming over the edge in explosive release.
His forehead resting against the wall, he slumped against her, her legs still wrapped around him. Sweat sealed them skin to skin, linking them together. But for how long?
Because in just ninety seconds, he’d realized he couldn’t ever let her go.
God, she needed to run.
Lauren straddled Jason’s lap as they sat on the wooden seat in the spa shower. Spray pelting her back, she kissed water from his shoulder while he throbbed inside her.
Aftershocks from her own completion still shuddered through her, her mind full of images of how he’d loved her through the night with his hands, his mouth, his body. Even his words as he told her over and over how much he wanted her, how hot she made him feel, how he couldn’t wait to have her again. She’d been totally out of control.
And that scared her to her dripping-wet toes.
Her skin cooling in the aftermath, she still couldn’t bring herself to move off his lap.
She’d remembered sex between them being good, but this tangled, combustible passion they’d explored again and again was beyond good. It was reckless and messy and mind-numbing, so much so that she could lose reason altogether and forget the independent life she’d painstakingly built for herself. She’d worked so hard to break free of the smothering, constricting family life she’d grown up in. Would she have the strength to assert herself with Jason when he could so quickly reduce her to a puddle of pleasure?
When they’d stepped into the spa shower together, she’d been sure she couldn’t make love again so soon, but he’d vowed they could make their way through one more of her fantasies before morning. All too quickly the stroke of his hands over her lathered body had sent her spiraling again until their oh-so-vocal coming together had echoed around the tiled walls.
Slowly, intensely. This was different from their frantic coupling on her work sofa, where he’d left her too quickly. She’d ached for more.
Now? He wrung every last orgasm from her, taking her to new heights after an already sensual night of lovemaking. She was so damn scared. She shivered against him.
Jason kissed her ear. “You’re cold. Let me take care of that for you.”
He lifted her off his lap gently, settling her on the other seat across from him before turning off the shower, brass fixtures steamed over. He stepped out onto the plush bath mat, opened the warmer drawer and passed her an oversize towel.
“Thank you.” She didn’t bother explaining that her shiver had come from another source altogether.
Lauren wrapped the heated folds around her and moved closer to the small fireplace in the bathroom. While this one had gas logs, instead of real wood, still it crackled with warm decadence. She’d been blessed to grow up in an affluent home, but even so, this remodeled bathroom impressed her.
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