The Yeah, Baby Series (11 page)

They were older than me, set in their ways, which frustrated me to no end considering we were supposed to be developing cutting edge solar technology. But, it wasn’t the product, it was our
image
they were more concerned about. They were conservative, and the clients they brought to the table were the same. They expected your home life to reflect your business.

I’d brought up to Dad the fact that Diamond would in no way be acceptable to the board and clients we catered to at that moment. He shrugged and told me they’d get over it. That we could overrule their decisions anyway. While true, he seemed to be ignoring the fact that if any of those guys left, they would take their golf buddies, our clients, with them and I hadn’t had enough time to bring in sufficient new business to withstand the loss.

I vowed to never make his same mistakes. And yet, there I was, my moment of weakness staring me in the face, with pale skin and a sickened look on her face. I wondered for half a second if she had faked our whole weekend. It was a ridiculous notion, nobody was that good an actress, and I was very well aware of my skills in the bedroom.

The chemistry between us was crackling even now, my traitorous body coming alive at being so near her. I focused on my anger, willing my cock to back the hell off. But no, it was still every bit as strong as when we first met.

My life was centered around the company and everything else came second. I needed an outlet for my creative side, though, something that was entirely separate and only mine. I had only ever shared it with my father. I’d bought a small art gallery and took great pride in helping small, local artists share their passion. In some cases, it even became the boost their career needed.

I was at the gallery one night, around six weeks ago, and after finishing up some paperwork, I decided to wander about and check out our newest artist’s talents. That’s when I saw her. She was average height, the top of her head reaching my shoulders. That was the only thing ordinary about her, though.  Her wavy, platinum hair was pulled back from her face, in a ponytail that screamed to be pulled while she was being fucked. The profile of her face was classically beautiful, lashes so thick and long, I was curious to see up close if they were fake.

She turned and caught me giving her the once over, but it didn’t stop my eyes from continuing downward, landing on the most spectacular pair of tits I’d ever seen. They were large, almost too big for her frame, but she pulled it off and my mouth practically watered at the sight of those perfectly round globes.

She was slim, with a tiny waist, a slight flare of hips, and endless legs encased in sexy stilettos. I was suddenly imagining those legs wrapped around me, squeezing me on the outside and her pussy doing the same on the inside. I swear, I almost came in my pants like a horny teenager.

She had the body of a stripper, and a bolt of jealousy shot through me at the thought of any other man seeing her naked body. It was unexpected, but it didn’t stop the growing confidence that I was going to end this night with her under me. She seemed to sense where my thoughts had gone because she blushed, making my already hard cock turn to stone. She was so fucking beautiful.

We met in the middle of the room, as though we were drawn together by our chemistry. It was a fucking movie moment, a scene from one of those ridiculous chick flicks. I was beyond aroused to see that there was nothing fake about her body.

“Lucas St. James,” I introduced myself.

She smiled, almost shyly. “Jade Jones.”

I took back my recent thought about nothing being fake. Her name was obviously made up, and I hoped it didn’t mean she actually was a stripper. I worried about the  way it would look if it got out that I’d spent time with a woman like her. However, right then and there, I decided I didn’t give a fuck. I was going to have her.

“I’m going to be blunt, to save wasted time,” I stated, “I desperately want you under me. Can I convince you to leave and spend the night with me?”

She hesitated, and for a moment I was terrified she was going to refuse, but then she smiled again and nodded, the sweet blush returning to her cheeks.

One night in a hotel turned into a weekend and I was starting to realize that I would almost surely never have enough of her. Then a cold bucket of reality was thrown at me.

She’d mentioned in passing that she was an artist and I assumed it was a hobby. I casually asked what had brought her to the gallery, too busy focusing on how I wanted to have her next to care about the question.

“I’ve turned in a portfolio and I’m hoping they’ll choose me for their next show,” she chattered excitedly.

I froze as the fog of lust receded, replaced by disappointment and rage. “So, this was an attempt to up your chances? Fuck the owner so he’ll be too enamored with your”—I ran my eyes down her body—“charms to pick anyone else? I’ve got to say, Jade,” I spit her name, “even if you do take your clothes off for a living, I didn’t think you were the kind of girl to sell your body.”

She gasped in fake indignation, but she wasn’t fooling me anymore.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t done that—sold my—how could you think—?” she sputtered. “Wait, you’re the owner?”

I rolled my eyes and got out of bed, starting to dress. “Drop the act, Jade. It’s the St. James Gallery, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way you didn’t know it was my gallery.”

Dressed, I grabbed my keys and wallet and stormed to the door. I couldn’t help glancing back and saw her sitting on the bed, her eyes wide in supposed shock, her mouth forming a little
O
. For half a heartbeat, I wondered if I was wrong and she was being genuine. But, experience had taught me better, so I walked out and slammed the door shut.

A
t first glance, it appeared as though Lucas’s full attention was on Mr. Wilkinson while he slit open a sealed envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. But I felt the weight of his scrutiny on me as I sipped on the glass of water I’d been given and popped a piece of gum into my mouth. The hair rose on my arms the same way it had when I felt him looking at me the night we’d met. My gaze darted up quickly, only to find him sending me a sidelong glance before I tilted my head to stare down at my hands. The brief moment of eye contact was enough to send shivers down my spine while I remembered how his eyes darkened with lust until it was virtually impossible to discern the difference between his pupils and the dark brown of his irises. How it felt to dig my nails into the taut skin of his back as he hammered into me.

Crap!
I shook my head when the clearing of Mr. Wilkinson’s throat penetrated through the sensual fog that seemed to wrap around me anytime Lucas was near. It was the same effect which had me agreeing to sleep with him within minutes of our first meeting. And it was distracting me from the important matters at hand—finding out what my mom’s husband of one day had left me in his will and finding a stick to pee on at the first opportunity. Finding out if I was pregnant had moved from a niggling doubt in my mind to a screaming alert of urgency. Right after I got the lawyer to repeat what he’d just said while I was shaking off my Lucas induced daze. Because clearly it had been important based on Lucas’s reaction.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he roared. “There’s no way in hell my father was stupid enough to do this.”

“Do what?” I repeated, shifting my attention away from Lucas and back to Mr. Wilkinson. “I’m sorry, could you repeat what you said?”

“Jonathan made arrangements for you to inherit half of his personal estate in the event of his and your mother’s deaths. Had she survived, she would have inherited it in your place. A smaller settlement would have been made upon you, since she would have been alive to provide assistance should you need it. All of his shares in the company will go to Lucas, of course, and the other half of the personal estate as well.”

“He did?” I gasped, feeling stunned by this turn of events. I hadn’t even ever met him. Why had he thought to include me in his will? And why in the world did he think my mom would have helped me if I needed it? I’d been supporting myself while trying to make it as an artist without any help from her, using the money from the life insurance policy my father had left me when he passed away four years ago.

“Don’t sit there, pretending to look innocent,” Lucas growled. “You had to have known what your mom was up to; convincing my dad to change his will like this.”

“It was actually my doing,” Mr. Wilkinson interjected. “Jonathan stopped into my office a couple days before his marriage. He said he wanted to talk to me about the prenuptial agreement he’d asked me to draw up while Di was out dress shopping. He let me know it was no longer necessary, a decision I advised him against, considering the vastness of his estate. He was adamant and I had no choice but to abide by his decision.”

“That doesn’t explain the change in my dad’s will.”

“I asked him if he wanted to make any changes to it with the upcoming nuptials. I didn’t want to run the risk of having assets frozen if Di ever had reason to contest it in probate court, not with the company as part of his estate.”

“And at no point during this visit did it cross your mind to ask him if he’d lost his mind?” Lucas’s question was thick with sarcasm.

Mr. Wilkinson leveled him with a glare. “You and I both know your father was of sound mind and body. If making decisions based on love was grounds to overturn a will, then our legal system would be in serious trouble.”

“He wasn’t thinking with his heart,” Lucas argued. “It was his little head making the decisions for him.”

“You don’t know that,” I snapped, knowing darn well it was entirely possible he was right but not caring in the least. Someone had to defend my mom, as she was no longer able to do it herself.

“Enough,” Mr. Wilkinson grunted. “Let me get through the rest of this and then the two of you can squabble like children without my having to listen to it.”

I crossed my arms over my chest defensively, only to drop them when I noticed Lucas doing the same as we both listened intently.

“Jonathan also made arrangements for any children Lucas might have, with specified amounts for trust funds to be set aside and such.”

“Not like that’s going to happen any time soon.”

My hand drifted to my stomach, the very place where his baby might already rest. I hoped like hell he was right and I was suffering from some strange, lingering illness instead of pregnancy. I’d take just about any kind of sickness as an explanation right about now.

“The final stipulation is that in order to inherit, you’re both expected to reside in the family home for the next year.”

The room was suddenly filled with absolute silence. You literally could have heard a pin drop. I must have heard him wrong.

“My father set his will up so
she
,” his nose wrinkled in distaste, “and I have no choice but to live together for a year?”

“Yes,” the lawyer confirmed. “He said if anything happened to him and Di, he wanted to be sure you both had family near.”

“She’s not my family,” Lucas growled.

“But she is,” Mr. Wilkinson insisted. “She’s your step-sister.”

“Get out,” Lucas rasped.

I levered up and out of my chair, wanting nothing more than to get away and think.

“Not you,” he hissed, wrapping a hand around my upper arm and holding me in place.

“Are you kicking me out of my own office?” Mr. Wilkinson asked.

“My step-sister,” he barely gritted the word out, “and I need a moment alone to discuss our living arrangements.”

I waited for the door to shut behind the lawyer before turning to glare up at Lucas. “There’s an easy enough solution to all of this.”

“Oh, yeah?” he drawled. “What’s your bright idea, sweetheart?”

I felt a stab of pain in my heart at his scornful use of that particular term of endearment. The last time he’d called me sweetheart, he’d groaned it in my ear while telling me how good it felt to be inside me. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to earn his disdain, but it only reinforced my decision. “I’m going to walk away from the inheritance.”

“Sure you are,” he scoffed. “Because after luring me into your bed in order to get me to give you an art show, you’re the kind of woman who will walk away from several hundred million dollars.”

Several hundred million dollars? Whoa!

“I can practically see the dollar signs in your eyes.”

“First of all,
I
didn’t lure
you
into my bed,” I retorted, jabbing my finger into his sculpted chest. “You’re the one who propositioned me.”

“Like you weren’t in my gallery with the express purpose of sleeping your way into a show,” he muttered.

“The only reason I slept with you is because I wanted you,” I seethed. “Forgive me for being stupid enough to be attracted to you. Don’t worry, though. It won’t happen again. I’ve learned my lesson where you’re concerned.”

It felt as though time stood still as we stared at each other. It wasn’t my intention, but I’d thrown down a verbal gauntlet, one Lucas was quick to pick up. My heart raced in my chest when his eyes flared and he jerked me against his chest. I gasped in surprise, and he took advantage of the parting of my lips to drive his tongue into my mouth as he claimed it in a punishing kiss. He shifted forward, and I bumped into the desk behind me. Lifting me up, he roughly parted my thighs and settled my knees at his hips as my ass landed on top of the edge of the desk. My skirt rode up, bunching at my hips and exposing my panties.

His fingers headed straight for my core, shoving my panties out of the way before sinking deep. I was embarrassingly wet, but Lucas grunted in satisfaction as I moaned in pleasure. The hand at my hip disappeared, and I heard the sound of his zipper going down. It was quickly followed by the crinkle of foil, and then he drove inside me in one smooth thrust.

I buried my head in his shirt to muffle my screams as he thrust in and out, so hard I heard the desk creaking underneath me. This was an anger fuck, pure and simple. My head knew it, but my body didn’t seem to care as I felt an orgasm quickly building. When one of his hands slid between us to pinch my clit, I flew apart, biting his chest in an effort to keep quiet.