Home > Executive's Pregnancy Ultimatum (Kings of the Boardroom #2)(15)

Executive's Pregnancy Ultimatum (Kings of the Boardroom #2)(15)
Author: Emilie Rose

She arched into his fingers, but he didn’t want to rush this, so he moved on, caressing the crease behind her knee, the curve of her waist, the sensitive spot beneath her arm and the dip of her navel. She shuddered, encouraging him to follow the same path with his lips.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, alternately gripping and releasing. Her toes curled against the sheets. He relished her scent, her taste, the softness of her skin against his lips and tongue.

She slid the arch of her foot up his calf and down again. Her free hand kneaded his back, then his butt before sliding toward his swollen flesh. Determined to keep her from rushing him, he kept his groin out of reach. She detached from his hair to trace the shape of his ear and to tease the hammering pulse point below with the light scrape of her short nails. Desire rippled over him. Renee had never been a passive lover. She gave as much as she received.

He grazed his teeth along her instep and her legs tensed. He circled her ankle with his tongue, then worked his way up the back of her leg to nibble on the bottom curves of her buttocks. Her muscles tightened. She twisted beneath him, winding her legs around him and rubbing her hot center against his thigh.

Palming her knees, he pressed her legs apart, leaving her open and exposed to his gaze, to his mouth. He licked her slick seam, making her jerk and gasp, and then he nuzzled her neatly groomed curls.

Her scent filled him with the anticipation of driving her over the edge, of hearing her cries and feeling her contract around him. Slowly. He found her center again with his tongue, flicking the hot pink nub, teasing her to the brink and then backing off. Paying close attention to the tension of her muscles, he repeated the process, smiling against her thigh at her frustrated groan when he left her hanging a second time. He urged her toward orgasm again, but before he could withdraw a third time, her fingers fisted in his hair.

“Please, Flynn.”

Her breathless plea sent his blood south. His penis pulsed against his thigh, reminding him who was boss and urging him to get on with it. He slid his fingers inside her and she groaned. She was so wet, so hot and tight and ready for him that it took all his restraint to delay his own gratification.

He sucked her into his mouth, making her moan and arch, and then he stroked her with his tongue and his hand until her muscles squeezed his fingers and her cries filled his ears. Her cli**x shuddered through her. He barely gave her a moment to catch her breath between spasms before making her come again and again.

She sank into the bed limp as he tongued her navel, giving her a break before his next planned assault. Her hand gently caressed his cheek. She lifted his chin until their eyes met. “I want you inside me for the next one. Please, Flynn. It feels so good when you’re inside.”

Hunger charged through him. He couldn’t resist any longer. He climbed over her, hooked her legs over his forearms and drove deep. Slick heat welcomed him, and then she clutched him with her internal muscles, and it was his turn to groan as his head nearly exploded with pleasure.

He drew back and sank in again and again. Her br**sts, jiggling with each slam of his h*ps against hers, riveted him, and then he had to feel that movement with his hands. He cupped and kneaded her, tweaking her n**ples while he rocked his hips.

Renee locked her ankles behind his back and clamped her hands on his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss that nearly boiled his brain. She devoured his mouth in a clash of tongues and teeth. To stave off his own release, he tried to focus on her, on the stiffening of her muscles, on her dampening skin and on her panting breaths, but a fuse lit in his gut, and he ignited like a roman candle. He tore his mouth away from hers as a groan roared from him. Blast after blast of ecstasy rocketed through his extremities until he was nothing but spent ash.

His elbows buckled. He collapsed on top of her, cushioned by her soft br**sts, then eased to her side and braced himself on an elbow so he wouldn’t crush her. A fog of satisfaction invaded his skull and weighted his eyelids. Hitching her leg over his hip so he wouldn’t have to disengage from the slick sleeve of her body, he wrapped her in his arms. Nothing had ever felt more right.

This is what they should have been doing for the past seven years. Solo sex and impersonal relationships didn’t come close to delivering this level of satisfaction. He and Renee belonged together.

And as his body cooled and clarity slowly returned, he made an interesting realization. His deal with Renee wasn’t just about correcting a mistake. It was about winning—winning his wife back.

There was no way in hell he was going to let her walk out of his life again. The passion was too intense. He would use whatever means necessary to keep her here. It was time to turn up the heat.

Excitement bubbled through Renee’s veins Thursday evening as she stood on the patio outside the basement watching the workers pack up their tools for the day.

Everything was coming together much faster than the months of chaos she’d endured during the renovation of her grandmother’s house. When Flynn flexed his influential muscles, work got done at an amazing rate. Yesterday he’d set up her gym, and today the permits had been issued and the work on her new kitchen had begun.

“How did the first day of construction go?” Flynn asked from behind her, startling her. Her heart ba-boomed wildly as his arms encircled her waist and his lips brushed her jaw. She hadn’t expected him until later…if at all. Shadows of the past crept over her.

She turned quickly, simultaneously stepping out of his embrace. He looked powerful, charismatic and successful in his immaculate charcoal-gray suit, but she preferred him in the khakis and dress shirts with the rolled-up sleeves that he wore when he worked for the architectural firm, or the faded jeans and Tshirts he donned for renovation.

Memories of last night’s passionate encounter rushed forward, but she muscled them back. Sexual satisfaction did not guarantee happiness, which was why she’d sneaked out of Flynn’s bed as soon as he’d fallen asleep, and then she’d awoken early this morning, raced to her new gym, climbed on the treadmill and donned a pair of earphones so she could be working out when he came downstairs before work.

Yes, she admitted, she was taking the coward’s way out, rather than discussing a situation that scared her.

Focus on the project, a much safer topic. “The basement tile has been laid. Tomorrow they’ll grout, and then Monday the cabinets will be delivered and installed.”

He strolled to the door to look around. “Looks good.”

She caught herself checking out his broad shoulders, straight spine and tight butt, and forced her attention elsewhere. But diverting her gaze didn’t derail her quickening pulse or the warmth pooling behind her navel. “I’m going to paint this weekend.”

He faced her again, but she avoided his eyes, fearing he’d see her hunger she couldn’t control. “You didn’t contract the crew to do that for you?”

“No. Doing it myself saves money and gives me time to think.” Time to plan and try to figure out exactly how their peculiar agreement would work out. She should have plotted the whole deal on paper—preferably in her lawyer’s office with legal backup, but Flynn’s need for secrecy had prevented that. “Besides, I like painting.”

A smile tilted one corner of his mouth. “I know. I’ll help you paint.”

Butterflies took flight in her belly. Coming on the heels of the phenomenal sex, working side by side with Flynn would be a trip down memory lane she didn’t need. “I can do it.”

“I know you can, Renee. I doubt there’s anything you can’t handle when you set your mind to it, but I have a stake in how this project turns out.”

The reminder that this was his house sobered her—exactly what she needed—and reminded her to ask her attorney to make sure everything she and Flynn had agreed upon was spelled out in their divorce agreement when the time came. “Yes, of course you do.”

“I meant I want CGC to be up and running before your pregnancy makes it difficult for you to deal with the setup.”

His thoughtfulness melted a tiny chip of her heart. “I may not be pregnant yet.”

“But you will be. Soon.”

The sensual promise in his words made her heart and womb contract. “I don’t know what kind of strings you pulled, but the contractor thinks I’ll be ready to fire up the stove by the end of next week.”

“Then I’m glad I brought home a client list for you.”

She blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I mentioned CGC to a few people and they’re interested in talking to you about catering jobs. One wants an appointment ASAP for an emergency fill-in job.”

He worked fast. “I wish I’d had you around when I started CGC. It wasn’t nearly as easy to pick up clients. I pounded on a lot of doors and had a lot of rejections.

“Once the construction is completed I’ll still have inspections to get through, but I need to work up an advertising plan and hire a few part-time employees.”

“I can recommend a reputable employment agency to screen your applicants, and you have connections at Madd Comm for your promotional plan.”

His generosity made it more difficult to keep her emotional distance. “Thank you. But Maddox isn’t in my budget.”

“We’ll see about that.” He lifted a hand and tangled his fingers in her hair. Renee’s muscles locked, trapping the air in her lungs and making retreat impossible. “You have something in your hair.”

He plucked at the strands, but he didn’t release her after he’d tossed whatever it was aside. Instead, he cupped her head and held her as he bent to capture her mouth. Alarms shrilled inside her as his lips sipped from hers, stirring a response she wanted to deny but couldn’t.

Flynn plied her mouth with gentle tugs, then when she gasped, his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers. His palms skated down her arms to rest in the small of her back, then he pulled her forward until her body rested against his. His heat suffused her.

She couldn’t let herself love him again, but she couldn’t stop the wanting. Kissing him felt so good, so familiar, so right. But it wasn’t. Giving in to the passion he evoked was a dangerous act, like walking a tight wire without a net.

Push him away, a voice warned, but her neurons ignored the command. Her hands splayed on his chest. She felt the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm. Why hadn’t she ever found anyone who could arouse her the way Flynn did? With nothing more than a kiss he made her pulse race and her knees weak.

A truck door slammed nearby—probably one of the workers. Flynn eased back, reluctance clear on his face, and checked his watch. “I’m supposed to take you to the Rosa Lounge for cocktails with the Madd Comm staff.”

To continue the farce. The more people he introduced her to, the more he’d have to explain her absence to when they went their separate ways. “What is the Rosa Lounge?”

“A bar on Stockton. The team meets there for celebrations.”

“Flynn, I’m not sure including me in your celebrations with your coworkers is a good idea. When I leave—”

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