Bossman's Baby Scandal

She nodded, her smile a little steadier this time. “I do hear you, and I have to admit I like what you’re saying.”

“And lastly—” this one was for his own satisfaction, as much as hers “—quit giving a crap what your mother thinks. I don’t want her upsetting the mother of my kid.”

Her hands cupped either side of his neck as she cocked her head. “That point’s not quite as reasonable as the first two, you know.”

Yeah, and he felt a bit like a hypocrite since he’d let his father’s opinion matter for most of his life. “Maybe when it comes to you I’m not as reasonable as I would like to be.” Wasn’t that the understatement of the year? “Now come to bed.”

Her smile was slow, sensuous and full out this time. “Are you seducing me?”

“God, woman—” he slid an arm around her shoulders, his knuckles skimming the side of her breast “—you have a one-track mind.”

She nibbled along his jaw. “Are you inviting me to make out again?”

Was he? Truth be told, he wanted something more from her right now. “I’m asking you to sleep with me.”

“Sure, sounds great.” She yawned her agreement, her voice offhand, totally missing the significance of what he was trying to say.

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was already walking toward the cabin, her head tucked under his chin.

He tried to tell himself it was his impatience kicking into overdrive. This was no big deal. Yet even as they slid under the covers and she tucked close against his chest, Jason could sense she was holding a part of herself back. Playing out fantasies was fine for her.

But after the way she’d been burned in the past, he was beginning to see that Lauren ran like hell from the messiness of real life.

Long after Jason drifted off to sleep, Lauren stared at the moon and stars playing around in the sky just beyond the portal. The gentle rocking of the boat would have lulled her to sleep on any other night, but now? Too much turmoil churned inside her.Tugging the comforter more securely over them, she tucked her leg between his, tangled up in the sheets, and savored the warm, bristly weight against her. If only they could stay on this boat, maybe move a little farther out to sea where her cell phone wouldn’t pick up a signal.

She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t let herself. These middle-of-the-night calls from her mother weren’t anything new, and she should have expected it. After all, there had to be fall-out for not telling Jacqueline about the baby. She’d just hoped this time…

Squeezing her eyes shut, she mentally kicked herself for expecting too much from her mother. She should know better after all these years of ups and downs. How damn stupid to get emotionally wrecked because she wanted to pick out nursery decorations with her mom. To talk about baby names, even. Instead, she’d been given the name of a divorce lawyer.

She was fairly damn certain she wasn’t going to name her kid Horace—after her mom’s current favorite attorney.

Lauren tucked herself closer to Jason and his arm slid around her waist in his sleep. Sighing, she snuggled even nearer, taking some of the comfort she hadn’t been able to let her guard down enough to accept earlier.

Keeping things light was much better in the long run—it meant her heart wouldn’t be as broken when they had to say goodbye.

“Damn it, Jason, a subject is supposed to be still. You’re making this so much more difficult than it has to be.”A valid point. But he didn’t think he was cut out to be a nude model. Of course, given he was the subject and the canvas, staying motionless was a little tougher than normal.

His muscles twitched from the effort, almost impossible with Lauren watching and touching him. “Aren’t you out of syrup yet?”

Lauren stood naked just outside the small shower belowdecks while he “posed” inside the aqua-tiled stall. Halfway through their Belgian waffle breakfast, she’d eyed the remains of their food with glee. The next thing he knew, she’d scavenged a basting brush from the galley kitchen and returned with a bowl of warmed syrup. When she pointed to the shower, he hadn’t argued.

She waved the brush, a droplet of maple syrup landing on top of his foot. “Don’t move or I’ll stop.”

“You’re wicked.”

“Just indulging in another fantasy.”

“Have your way with me, then.” He winked, imagining a lifetime spent exploring more fantasies together. “I’m all yours.”

The bowl rested in the sink and she dipped the marinating brush in the rich brown liquid. She swirled the heated glaze over his heart, slowly along his pecs, circling tighter and tighter until she flicked his nipple. His heart kicked up, harder, faster. He pulsed hot and ready to flip her onto her back and plunge inside her. Her eyes, however, warned him again she would stop if he so much as flinched.

With a sweeping stroke, she trailed lower, the sugary scent coating the air. She traced his ribs, dipping lower again until his abs contracted. He bit his lip.

“Are you ticklish?”

Not that he would ever admit. “No. What are you painting, anyway?

“A big, powerful tree.” Her teasing touch brushed closer to his sides with branchlike sweeps. That sure was one leafy tree. “I think you are ticklish. I think the big strong guy has a weakness, after all.”

He held still through sheer force of will. “It’s only a weakness if I let it affect me.”

“Is that a dare?”

He simply arched an eyebrow. Then he saw the impish intent in her eyes and prepped himself to hold still. She moved. Stroked.

Lower.

Not tickling at all, but boldly painting a bristly path over the hardened head of him straining up his stomach. He slumped back against the tile wall and this time she didn’t rag him about moving. Lauren smiled with womanly power, continuing down, coating him all the way to his base.

Her grin broadened before she knelt and took him in her mouth. At the slick glide of her tongue, he forgot how to think or form rational thoughts. Sensation swept over him as she suckled and laved away every last bit she’d so torturously applied. Her moan of appreciation echoed a deeper one rumbling up his chest. Need pounded through him until his blood turned as thick as the syrup in the bowl beside them.

The brush fell from her hand and clanked against the tile floor a second before her cool fingers cupped him, massaging. His jaw clamped closed, and he planted his palms flat against the stall wall to keep from falling to his knees. And he couldn’t even blame the rocking of the boat under his feet. Much more of the dual torment and he would lose control—before he made sure she was every bit as turned on as he was.

Jason gripped her waist and drew her away from him with more than a little regret. Regret quickly dispersed as he saw her dilated pupils, the flush of arousal tinting her skin, all signs that being with him affected her on a deep and visceral level, a level he intended to take even deeper. He cranked on the shower and plunged them under the spray. Icy pellets needled along his oversensitized skin, then quickly warmed.

Fitting his mouth over hers, he tasted syrup and desire and heat, and he couldn’t get enough of her. They were messy and sticky, but nothing with Lauren had ever been simple. And he did so enjoy showering with her afterward.

Maybe after they finished in here, he could wring a promise from her to stay longer…then longer…until they settled into a life together.

Water rolled down them in a syrupy whirlpool spiraling into the drain. He hooked her leg over his hip until he nudged the moist core of her. Lauren dug her heel into his butt, leaning against him for balance. She writhed against him harder, her need for release evident in her insistent wriggles and breathy moans echoing with the call of early-morning birds outside the portal.

“Stay, stay here in San Francisco.” The command fell out ahead of his brain. Damn. He’d meant to wait until after.

Jason sealed his mouth to hers, determined to distract her. It was just one lame-ass little sentence, after all.

Lauren went still against him, water streaming from her sopping-wet hair.

“What did you say?” she whispered, water spiking her eyelashes.

“We can talk later.” He splayed his hands over her shoulders, down to cup her slick breasts, hoping to distract her and cursing himself. He knew timing was everything in an ad presentation, and winning her over was the most important campaign of his life.

She angled back, water sealing them together for a moment before giving way. “I heard what you said.” Her face was wary and closed and offered little clue to her thoughts, but she’d sure as hell put a stop to getting busy. “I just don’t understand why you’re changing the rules.”

“You’re the one who rescinded the no-sex ban.” He palmed her back, keeping his touch low-key while reconnecting. “And I don’t know about you, but for me, what we’ve done together changes everything. I want more.”

She nibbled her lower lip, uncertainty clouding her eyes as she stared back in the narrow space. Hope steamed through him and he guided her between his legs.

She slid her hand up to cradle his face, her expression sad. “Why? Why do you want more?”

Not the answer he’d been angling for, but she hadn’t slammed the door in his face. He scavenged for arguments to change her mind and came up blank. He’d used his best ammo from the minute he’d stepped into her apartment a week ago. Still, there had to be something—