The Tycoon's Paternity Agenda (12 page)

“I didn't have a clean pair for tomorrow, so I washed them out in the sink.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured as he dipped his head to take her nipple in his mouth. Her entire being shuddered with ecstasy.

Adam lifted her off his lap and laid her down on the cushions, settling beside her, then he was kissing her again. Her lips and her throat, her breasts. He tortured her with
nips and love bites, until she was burning up with need. He worked his way downward, across her stomach, then lower still.

She was no stranger to oral sex, although she wasn't usually the one on the receiving end. And on the rare occasion she'd been in the hot seat, the truth is it hadn't really been that fantastic. More clumsy and awkward than arousing. But as Adam slipped down onto the floor beside her, spreading her thighs to make room for himself, as his tongue lashed out to taste her, she was so close to unraveling she couldn't see straight.

Then a light switched on in the kitchen, dimly illuminating the room. She and Adam froze as they heard Celia shuffle out of her room. The couch was facing away from the light, so the only way she would know they were there was if she walked into the living room, which wasn't entirely impossible.

She heard Celia get a glass out of the cupboard, and fill it with water. She was frantically trying to recall where Adam had thrown the pajama top when she felt his tongue on her again. She was so surprised she gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth to smother the sound. What the heck was he doing? Did he
want
to get caught?

Getting caught kissing was one thing, but this? This would be absolutely mortifying.

She tried to push his head away, to close her legs, but that only seemed to fuel his determination. He pressed her thighs open even wider, devouring her. Could this possibly be the man her sister claimed wasn't
adventurous
enough? And maybe it was the element of danger, or the sheer stupidity of what they were doing, but the more she tried to fight it, the more turned on she was getting. Then Adam entered her with his fingers, thrusting them deep inside of her, and her control
shattered. She buried her face in the cushion to muffle the moan of pleasure she couldn't suppress.

She'd barely had a chance to catch her breath when the light suddenly went out, and Celia shuffled back to her room behind the kitchen.

The second Katy heard the door close she gave Adam a good hard whack on the top of his head.

“Ow! What was that for?” he said, ducking away from a possible repeat attack.

“Are you crazy?” she hissed, sitting up. “She could have walked in here and seen us.”

He was grinning. “But she didn't. And you can't deny that the idea of being caught was arousing as hell.”

No, she couldn't deny it. But it wasn't a chance she was willing to take again. “Maybe we should move this party upstairs.”

“That's probably not a bad idea.”

No, it was. This whole thing was a horrible, horrible mistake. But it was too late now. He'd pleased her, and it was only fair to reciprocate. Right?

And if they were going to do this, they might as well have fun. And worry about the consequences in the morning.

She located the pajama top on the floor and pulled it on, just in case, then turned to Adam, grinning wickedly, and said, “Last one there is a rotten egg.”

K
aty darted up the stairs, and Adam took off after her, catching up just outside the bedroom where she'd been sleeping. He hooked his arms around her waist, trapping her against him, and tugged in the direction of his bedroom. She pulled away from him, looking hesitant.

Confused, he asked, “What's the matter?”

“Where are we going?”

“My bedroom.”

“Not there.”

Because it wasn't just his bedroom, he realized. It was Becca's.

He didn't try to explain that while it was Becca's room, too, the bed itself had to be replaced due to her illness. And that even before that, he and Becca hadn't exactly shared a lot of passionate nights there.

But he didn't want to make Katy uncomfortable, so
when she took his hand and led him into the spare room, he let her.

She pulled the pajama top off and walked backward toward the bed, summoning him with a crooked finger. And when he got there she shoved him backward onto the mattress. The sheets were cool against his skin and smelled like her. He tried to pull her down beside him, but she straddled his legs instead. Her skin was flush with arousal, her nipples puckered tight. Her hair hung down in mussed curls that grazed the tops of her breasts. He'd never seen anything so sexy in his life.

She ran her hands down his chest, raking his skin with her nails. “I want to see you naked.”

“All you had to do was ask,” he said with a grin, and she tugged his pajama bottoms down and off his legs. Then she just stared at his erection in awe, as though she'd never seen one before.

She must have noticed his curious expression, because she said, “I didn't get a good look the other night.” She reached out and wrapped her hand around him, slowly stroking from base to tip, then back down again. “I've never seen one this big. Not that I've seen a lot of them. Only three, besides yours.”

That surprised him. Not that he thought Katy was the kind to sleep around, but she had a way about her that was blatantly sexual. Like the way she was casually running her thumb over the head of his erection, making it really tough to concentrate on the conversation. “That's not many,” he said.

“You know, I didn't lose my virginity until I was nineteen.”

Another surprise. “Really?”

“I had done a lot of fooling around before then, but I
planned to wait until I was married to actually seal the deal.”

She gave him a gentle squeeze and his breath caught. “So why didn't you?”

“Because it occurred to me around then that it could take a long time to find Mr. Right, and I figured if fooling around felt good, actual sex would feel even better.”

“Did it?”

She shrugged. “Not at first. But then sometimes it did, depending on who I was with. But that never really mattered because I'm completely capable of taking care of my own needs if necessary.”

He didn't know who these men were she was sleeping with, but it would be a cold day in hell when he let a woman he was with “take care of her own needs.”

“Is it weird that I'm telling you this?” she asked.

“Oddly enough, no.” Even though he was having an increasingly difficult time concentrating on what she was saying. His gaze was fixed on her hand, sliding slowly up and down his shaft.

“When did you lose your virginity?” she asked.

“I was sixteen.”

“Seriously?”

“She was eighteen.”

“Ah, an older woman. Did it last?”

“About fifteen seconds.”

She laughed. “I meant the relationship.”

“That
was
the relationship.” And he wouldn't last much longer than that now if she kept stroking him that way. “We hooked up at a party. I never saw her again.”

“I've never had a one-night stand. Unless you count ten days ago.” Letting go of his erection, she ran her hands up his stomach, over his chest. “But I guess after tonight we'll have to relabel it. Is there such a thing as a two-night stand?”

He didn't see any reason to slap a label on it. It was what it was.

She gazed down at him, lids heavy, cheeks rosy. “I like talking to you. And I like that you're willing to open up to me. I know that's not easy for you.”

Not only did she like it, he realized that talking like this was turning her on. Like verbal foreplay.

A woman who got off on conversation. Who would have imagined? But he needed more. Less talk and more action. He needed to get his hands on her body, to be inside of her. It was all he'd been able to think about since that first time ten days ago. Looking back on it now, he should have realized that this was inevitable. That once was never going to be enough. “Why don't you make love to me,” he said.

Her honey-dipped smile said she thought that was a pretty good idea. “Like this? With me on top?”

“However you'd like.” On top, on the bottom. Upside down or sideways, he didn't really care.

She rose up onto her knees, flush with anticipation and centered herself over him, then she sank down, taking him inside of her, inch by excruciating inch, until he was as far as he could go. She was hot and wet and tight.

She looked down at him, and smiled. “Hmm, that's nice.”

She took the words right out of his mouth. She started to move, riding him slowly, as though she had all the time in the world. Her eyes drifted closed, head rolled back. She looked completely lost in the sensation, and he was so fascinated watching her, his own pleasure seemed almost insignificant. He was content to let her use him as long as she wanted, stroking everything he could reach. Her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. Every part of her soft and feminine.

She took one of his hands and guided it between her legs, where their bodies were joined. He rubbed her there, and she
started whimpering, making soft breathy sounds. She began to tremble all over and he knew she was almost there. Then her body clamped down hard around him, clenching and releasing. Watching her come was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen, and just like that he lost it. It was sexual release like he'd never felt before, hot pulsations that robbed him of the ability to do anything but feel.

Katy crumpled into a heap on his chest, curling herself around him. He could feel her heart hammering just as hard as his own. As much as he hated to admit it, sex with Becca had never been like this. She had always been too uptight, too worried that she would disappoint him to just let loose and have fun. And when they were trying to get pregnant, sex became a job. Then she was diagnosed and that put an end to their sex life altogether.

Maybe he should have felt bad comparing the two, and guilty knowing that, as much as he loved Becca, Katy was everything he'd always hoped his wife would be in the bedroom. But he didn't. Everything else was so screwed up, this seemed to be the only thing that made any sense. Even though it made no sense at all.

Maybe this was wrong, and he would regret it someday. All he knew was that for the past three years since Becca died he'd barely been able to look at another woman. Not a day passed that he didn't ache from missing his wife. But when he was with Katy he could forget for a while. He finally felt…at peace.

It was too bad that it had to end.

 

Katy woke the next morning and reached for Adam, but he wasn't there. She sat up and looked at the clock, surprised that it was almost nine-thirty. She was usually up at the crack of dawn. Of course, it had almost been the crack of dawn when Adam finally let her go to sleep.

The man had an insatiable sexual appetite, not to mention the stamina of someone half his age. After the third time she even started to wonder if he'd swallowed a couple of Viagra. Until he mentioned that, before their first night together, it had been
four
years, and suddenly it made sense. She didn't even know men could go that long without sex. She had just assumed he'd been with women since Becca died. But he was sure making up for lost time.

Now it was that dreaded morning after, and as exciting and, for lack of a better word,
magical,
as it had been, they had to face reality. Not to mention the situation with the baby.

She rolled out of bed and took stock of the room. Blankets askew, sheet pulled off the mattress in one corner. Celia was going to walk in and know instantly that they'd had wild sex all night. Of course, they hadn't exactly been quiet, so it was possible she'd figured it out for herself already.

Just in case, Katy spent a few minutes straightening things up, then took a long, hot shower. She half hoped that Adam had gone to work, even though she knew delaying the conversation they needed to have wouldn't make it any easier. But he was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the
Wall Street Journal.
She'd expected him to be dressed for work, but he was wearing chinos and a polo shirt with the Western Oil logo on it. His hair was damp, so he must have gotten up not long before she did. It was the first time she had seen him wear anything but a suit or slacks and a dress shirt. In fact, she had begun to question whether he even owned any casual clothes. Apparently he did, and damned if he didn't look delicious in them.

When he heard her enter the room he looked up and said, “Good morning.”

“Mornin'.”

“There's coffee,” he said.

“I can't. You know, the baby.”

“I made decaf.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Sit down. I'll pour you a cup.”

She took a seat across from his, while he got up and poured her coffee. She couldn't tell if she should be uncomfortable or not. She was having a tough time reading him.

He set a steaming cup of black coffee in front of her and asked, “Are you hungry? I could make eggs or something.”

“I didn't know billionaire oil men cooked.”

“They do if they're hungry and their housekeeper is running errands. Or if you don't trust my cooking, I could take you out.”

“I think maybe we should just talk instead.”

He sat across from her. “Okay, let's talk.”

She sat there for a minute and realized, they had so many things to cover, she wasn't even sure where to begin. “Where should we start?”

“Why don't we start with us.”

She grimaced. She had really hoped that was the one part they wouldn't have to talk about. And she knew that as much as she wanted there to be, there was no “us.”

“I think we both know that this has the potential to get very complicated,” he said.

It already was. “Look,” she said. “Last night was great, but it never should have happened. Things are just so…jumbled up. We let our emotions get the best of us.”

He looked relieved. “I'm glad you feel that way.”

She knew he would be. She was letting him off easy. Giving him an out. Of course he would take it.

“But I want us to be friends,” he said.

The “let's still be friends” speech. How many times had she heard that one? She gazed into the inky depths of her cup, so he wouldn't see how much this was hurting her.

And let's face it, even if he suddenly decided that he wanted a wife, that he wanted
her,
she would never cut it as the future Mrs. Adam Blair. He was way out of her league. Not to mention that he was here, and she was in Peckins. It was an impossible situation.

“Katy?”

“We could be having a baby together. That means we're more or less stuck with each other.”

He arched one brow. “You make it sound pretty awful.”

Because for her it would be. For a while anyway. But it was imperative he didn't know that. Because then he would feel guilty, and things would get uncomfortable. That was the last thing she wanted.

She forced a smile. “That's not what I meant. And of course we'll be friends.”

“After talking to Dr. Meyer, I think we have to face the fact that it probably is ours.”

“I know I said that I wasn't ready for a child of my own, but now that it's a possibility…I could never just hand it over to you.”

He reached across the table and curled his hands over hers. She wished he would stop doing that. Stop touching her. He was only making it harder. “Katy, I would
never
expect you to do that. If it's our baby, we'll figure out a way to make it work.”

Our baby. Hearing him say that gave her shivers.

She pulled her hands from his, before she did something stupid, like throw herself in his arms and
beg
him to love her. To at least try.

“What about the surrogacy agreement?” she asked.

“Null and void, I guess. We'll have to work out some kind of custody agreement and child support. But I don't want you to worry. Financially, everything will be taken care of.”

Custody and child support? What a nightmare.

“I don't want to wait for the birth for the DNA test,” she told him. “I want to do the amnio. As soon as possible.”

“The doctor said there are risks. Is it really that critical to know so soon?”

Not for him, maybe. But it was for her. “I need to know what to feel.”

He frowned. “I don't understand.”

“Either way, this is your baby. You're the father. But what am I? The baby's mother or just the aunt? I can't bear spending nine months thinking I'm going to have my own child, only to find that I have no maternal rights.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that. Of course we'll do the amnio.”

And until then she would just have to try to stay partial, try not to get too attached. Just in case. Because having her heart broken again so soon would be more than even she could bear.

“I also think we shouldn't talk about this with anyone but the doctor,” she told him. “Not until we get the results. I can't put my parents through that.”

Although, ironically, they were in the same situation as Adam. Whether it was Becca's baby or Katy's, it was still their grandchild. Only Katy's dilemma was unique.