Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Ask them for a rain check,” I insist. “I want to get to know the people in your life.”
She nods and then turns the page, where I see two pictures of us with the caption Made in London.
“That’s cute.”
“Thanks. I was so thankful I at least took a couple of selfies of us so the baby would be able to see what you looked like.”
“And now, they’ll know me.”
“Because of you,” she says, leaning into my side. “Thank you for not listening to me.”
She goes through page after page, each one documenting a week of her pregnancy. There are images of her belly, her favorite foods, and the sonogram pictures she’s taken from her appointments so far. It’s clear from the pages she’s made how much she already loves our baby, and I have no doubt she’s going to be an amazing mother.
“Make sure you send me the date and time of your next appointment,” I remind her when she closes the book.
I have no intention of leaving, but I still want to make sure that it’s in my calendar so Nolan doesn’t schedule any meetings or phone calls for me during that time.
“Will do.”
chapter nineteen
PAIGE
“Oh my God, stop it!” I playfully slap Nate’s hand off my thigh. “We’re supposed to be discussing the marketing strategy for the Kingston Hotel Collection.”
“And we are,” he says, running his hand up my bare thigh. “But how do you expect me to sit here and focus when my baby mama is dressed in this sexy-as-hell pencil skirt, showing off all this skin.”
He licks his lips, his gaze homing in on my legs as I cross them, trying not to let his touch or words affect me.
Ever since he gave me that orgasm, I can’t stop thinking about him giving me another. It took everything in me to leave for work this morning instead of begging Nate to play hooky with me and spend the day in bed. We should probably be taking things slow since so much is at stake, but I can’t help it. I’m pregnant and horny, and I have a man who loves to please me.
“Focus,” I groan as his fingers glide along the seam of my panties. “We need to get your feedback so I can submit the changes to my marketing team before we leave in”—I glance at the clock—“two hours.”
Shit! Where the hell did the time go? “I still need to get home and pack, and we need to get to the airport two hours before the flight.”
“Calm down.” Nate chuckles. “We have plenty of time. The great thing about having a company jet is that it waits for you.” He shifts my hair to the side and leans in, giving the column of my neck soft kisses. “Ever since you walked me into this office, dressed professionally, in those heels, I’ve been fantasizing about bending you over that desk, lifting your skirt to your hips, and fucking you until we both come. What do you say?” Nate runs his tongue along the sensitive part under my ear. “Want to make my fantasy come true?”
Jesus, I told myself I would have more restraint than this. I already caved regarding the mutual orgasms last night and justified it by telling myself that I wouldn’t actually have sex with him until we figured out the important things, like where we’re going to live and raise our baby, if we’re going to even be together…
But the thought of Nate fucking me on my desk has me throwing all my common sense out the window. I mean, we’ve already had sex—hence the baby in my belly—so will it really make a difference if we do it again? I don’t see why either of us has to be deprived of any possible orgasms while we’re figuring things out.
“Fine,” I breathe, not caring that I sound as turned on as I am. “Lock the door. But we need to make this quick.”
The corners of Nate’s mouth spread into a beautiful, boyish grin, and then he’s up, locking my office door while I head over to my desk to make sure my papers don’t go everywhere when we do this. I’ve only just leaned over to move my files to the side when Nate rounds the desk and grips the curves of my hips.
“Organizing your desk defeats the purpose of desk sex,” he murmurs into my ear.
“Oh, have you had it much?” I glance behind me and raise a brow.
“Never,” he admits. “But in my fantasy, the papers go flying from me fucking you so hard.”
He spins me around and crashes his mouth against mine. He tastes like the perfect mixture of coffee and passion and something that is just him. His tongue massages mine, and I sigh into the kiss, my body craving more.