Single Mom, Billionaire Boss Page 10

She cuddled up to him, close and warm. “I wanted to be the turkey.”

  “And get eaten?”

  “It didn’t get eaten in our play. It got to dance around on stage with the pumpkin pie.”

  He nuzzled her hair. “I love pumpkin pie.”

  “I’ll bake one for you sometime.”

  “With lots of whipped cream on top?” He ran his tongue along the side of her neck.

  This was the most dizzying foreplay she’d ever imagined. “Whatever you want, you can have.”

  “I want you.”

  “Then take me.” For their secret affair, she thought. For the heat and passion they’d both been craving.

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m going to show you my room now.” He waited a second, as if he was giving her a chance to change her mind.

  But she had no intention of doing that. This was exactly what she needed, what she was desperate for.

  Garrett took her down the hall, past two guest rooms and into the master suite. The door was already open, and they both stepped inside. He was still holding her hand.

  His room boasted cherrywood furniture and maroon-colored accents. The curtains on the glass doors that overlooked the pool were closed, just as they’d been the other day. The paintings on the walls consisted of misty seascapes, and a carefully woven dream catcher, decorated with shiny gold beads and a red-tailed hawk feather, dangled from the headboard. The bed itself was neatly made. Meagan had left hers in a pile of blankets this morning as she’d rushed out the door.

  She turned her attention back to him. “Can I unbutton your shirt?” she asked, itching to bare his flesh.

  “Only if I can unbutton yours,” he replied, moving forward to make the moment happen.

  Eight

  Garrett was living out a fantasy, right here and now. He was being seduced, but he was part of the seduction, too, taking what he wanted, what he needed.

  He’d never expected Meagan to end up in his bedroom this morning, yet here she was—so soft and pretty and willing.

  He undid the first button on her blouse. Then the second. Then the third. He stopped there, simply to admire her. By now, he could see the tops of her breasts. Her skin was golden brown, and her bra was white.

  She went after his shirt, opening it all the way. And when she placed her hand against his chest, his heart pounded like a shaman’s drum.

  “Wow,” she said, running the tip of an index finger down the center of his body. “Look at you and your hot-guy abs.”

  Garrett was too busy looking at her. “You’re the hot one.” He finished unbuttoning her blouse. He reached around and unhooked her bra, too.

  He finished disrobing her to the best of his ability. She had to help, removing her boots and shimmying out of her jeans.

  Finally, when she stood before him in her loosened bra and wispy blue panties, he pulled her closer and kissed her. She made a sound that reminded him of something wild. An exotic creature, he thought, in the midst of a forbidden mating. He suspected that she was going to be the most untamed lover he ever had. The most fulfilling, too. Already, it was an intoxicating combination.

  Her bra was discarded and so was his shirt. Her breasts were full and round, her caramel-colored nipples hard and pressed against him. He kept her in the tight circle of his arms.

  Once again, Meagan made that sound, the feral little throat rumbling, and he thought he might lose what was left of his sex-hungry mind. He backed her toward the bed, one step at a time.

  “Garrett.” She spoke softly. “Shouldn’t we pull aside the covers first?”

  Details, he thought. But she was right. He wanted to lie upon his cool, crisp sheets with her.

  He released her and turned down the quilt. He removed a condom from the nightstand drawer, too. Another detail. A necessity that couldn’t be overlooked.

  He stripped down to his underwear, and they got into bed. He slipped his hand past the waistband of her panties, and she smiled and slid her hand straight into his briefs.

  He was already aroused. So was she. But the foreplay felt good. So damned good. They messed around, rubbing and touching until their undergarments came off.

  The early-morning light enhanced her appearance. Meagan’s nakedness was breathtaking. Her hair was beautiful, too, fanning across the pillow and tumbling down her body. They hadn’t even consummated their union yet, and already he longed to keep her there for the rest of the day. But that was impossible.

  To compensate for it, he said, “Will you lie still for me?”

  She furrowed her brows. “Why do you want me to do that?”

  “So I can taste you.” He wanted her to come before he was inside her, to watch her while she mewled and moaned, to drive her decidedly mad.

  She didn’t refuse his request. She even reached back to grip the rails on the headboard, as if that might help keep her still.

  Kissing his way down her body, he treated her with the ultimate care. He took his time, purposely toying with her senses. Her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t close her eyes. She watched him as he watched her.

  Garrett used his mouth in clever ways, and as he focused on that one little spot, she let go of the headboard and delved all ten fingers into his hair. Lifting her knees, she arched her hips.

  So eager. So carnal.

  “Do you want more, Meagan?”

  “Yes—” she kept her gaze trained on him, her voice going choppy, her limbs quavering “—more.”

  He kept doing what he was doing, bathing her with lust and intimacy. She was on the verge of orgasm, just seconds away from the first shudder. He felt her resolve, as sure as he felt his own rocking desire. He swirled his tongue, and her hands tightened in his hair.

  She came in a feminine fever, shaking against the current and making the erotic sounds he wanted to hear.

  He waited until the last shiver receded before he rose up to kiss her forehead. She reacted just as gently, drawing her arms around him.

  And holding him romantically close.

  * * *

  Meagan clung to Garrett, giving herself time to recover from the heat shimmering through her veins. It was like glitter, she thought, lighting up her blood.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m wonderful.” She nuzzled closer. “How are you?”

  He pressed his erection against her stomach. “How do I feel?”

  Like a man in need, she thought. Ditching her sweet afterglow, she closed her hand around him. She shouldn’t be getting so dreamy about him, anyway. This was just an affair, after all. A wild, glorious affair.

  “Maybe I better take care of that for you,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He kissed her, his mouth warm and stirring against hers. “Maybe you should.”

  Meagan stroked him, enjoying the feeling, the hardness of his body, the strength and power he emitted. She didn’t ease up, not until she made him bead at the tip. She even collected the saltiness on her thumb, tasting it for her own pleasure.

  In the next anxious instant, they rolled over the bed, sunlight streaming in through the windows.

  Garrett took the condom off the nightstand and tore into the packet. He put on the protection and entered her.

  He pushed deeper, and Meagan wrapped her legs around him.

  “Damn,” he said, as she squeezed tighter.

  She smiled. Obviously, he liked it.

  She trailed her fingers along his stomach, tracing his sinfully sculpted abs, unable to keep her hands off of him.

  He looked down at the place where their bodies were joined. She did, too. It was a thrilling sight.

  They moved in unison, their rhythm slick and ravenous. He shifted his position and rolled over, taking her with him and putting her on top.

&n
bsp; She straddled him, and when she tipped back her head so he could pepper her neck with hot little kisses, her hair fell behind her, flowing to her tailbone.

  He reached around and grabbed a handful, tugging on the long dark strands and tangling them however he saw fit. His roughness excited her. She almost wished that he would mar her skin, leaving evidence of his kisses. But he seemed to know better than to brand her.

  “Have you done this before?” she asked.

  “Done what?”

  “Been with a woman you shouldn’t be with?”

  “No. I’m private about who I date, but I don’t...”

  “Have secret rendezvous?”

  He nodded and sought her lips. This particular kiss was terrifying. The kind that left you wanting more than you were capable of handling.

  Was he right about what he’d said earlier? Was their affair destined to go bad? She’d stolen from him, this billionaire who lived a quiet and cautious life, and now she was buck naked in his bed. Where was the logic in that?

  Nonetheless, she didn’t want to stop being his lover. Meagan longed to be with him, to continue what she’d started.

  Once the kiss ended, she tried to catch her breath, to slow down and make the moment last. But he was still holding a fistful of her hair, urging her on.

  She gave in to the frenzy, riding him hard and fast and becoming part of his thirst for completion.

  When he came, she absorbed the slamming shock and pulsing friction. He even growled in her ear.

  Afterward, he went into the adjoining bathroom to dispose of the condom and she remained in bed, clutching the sheet. She was still reeling from the force of his climax.

  He returned and sat next to her, and she wanted to fling her arms around him and never let go. Of course there was no logic in that, either. However long this lasted, it wasn’t going to be forever. But that shouldn’t matter. She’d chosen to be with him. She’d acted on her desires. But she wasn’t going to allow herself to get attached, at least not in a way that would involve the tattered strings of her heart. Falling for Garrett, any more than she already had, wasn’t in her best interest.

  Or so she kept telling herself.

  “What time is it?” she asked, trying to be brave and free, like an uncommitted lover should be.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have a clock in here.”

  When he leaned toward her, she waited a beat, thinking that he was going to reach out and hold her. But he didn’t. Disappointment washed over her, mingled with a wave of relief. “How do you wake up without a clock?”

  “I set the alarm on my phone.”

  “Where’s your phone?” Hers was still in her car.

  “In the kitchen. I took it in there before you arrived, when I thought I’d be making breakfast for you. Speaking of which, we still need to eat.”

  “I can’t be late for work.” A shot of panic set in. “What if I’m late already?”

  “You don’t have to be there until nine, and you got here at six-thirty. We haven’t been in bed that long.”

  “Are you sure?” Sleeping with the owner of the resort was no excuse for being late. It would make her feel cheap and dirty, even if she wasn’t taking advantage of the situation purposely.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” He climbed into his underwear and then his pants. “You can get dressed and meet me in kitchen. And feel free to freshen up, if you need to.”

  “Thank you.” She worked on calming herself down, on taking a deep breath. “But I still need to be mindful of getting to work on time.”

  “I know.” He resumed his spot next to her. “But I can’t help wanting to keep you here.”

  She smiled, warmed by his admission. Worrying about her feelings for him was foolish. She just needed to go with the flow.

  Finally, he headed for the kitchen, and she trailed into the bathroom, carrying her clothes.

  Meagan got herself ready. She rebuttoned her chambray blouse, tucked it into her cowgirl-cut jeans and braided her hair, taming the tangled mess Garrett had made out of it.

  She entered the kitchen, and he greeted her with a cup of coffee, which smelled heavenly.

  He said, “There’s cream and sugar on the counter. Sugar substitutes, too, if you prefer those. Oh, and you’ve got an hour before you need to go to work.”

  “A whole hour?” She glanced at the microwave clock, confirming the timeline. “Who knew?”

  “I did. If you want a repeat performance, we could go back to my room.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or we could do it here. I could lift you onto the sink. Or we could make use of the floor. Or bump and grind against the fridge.”

  She laughed. “You wish.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Suddenly he didn’t look like he was joking around anymore.

  Meagan felt the steam rising from her cup. Steam could have been rising from her body, too. She changed the subject to keep herself from mauling him. If they went at it again, she would be late for work for sure. “What are you making for breakfast?”

  “I thought I’d throw together something sweet. I’ve got pancakes in the freezer. I can warm them in the microwave, and we can smother them in syrup.”

  He made pancakes sound like the sexiest thing ever. And for now, they were. He quickly prepared the meal, and with every bite Meagan took, maple syrup melted in her mouth.

  “So exactly when are we going to do this again?” he asked.

  She added even more syrup. She couldn’t seem to get enough. “As soon as we’re both able.”

  “I’m free on Sunday.”

  “I might be, if Candy and Tanner can watch Ivy on that day for me. But first you and I need to get through the charity event on Saturday.”

  “You’re right. We’ve got that coming up.” He watched her eat. “We’ll be putting our acting skills to the test.”

  “I don’t think I should stay the whole time.” Meagan chewed and swallowed, a little more slowly than before. She liked that he was watching her, but he was making her self-conscious, too. “I think it’s better if we keep our public appearances to a minimum.”

  “That’s fine. You can arrive late or leave a little early, whichever works for you. But my brothers are expecting you so don’t bail out completely, okay?”

  “I would never do that.” She wanted to make a good impression. “I’ll probably be nervous, though, especially now that we’re sleeping together.”

  “I know. It’s going to be weird.” He moved closer, his face just inches from hers. “But we’ll just do the best we can, keeping this secret of ours.”

  Before she could respond, he kissed her while the syrup was still warm and sticky on both of their lips.

  When he let her go, she teetered in her chair and finished her pancakes, devouring every sweet and spongy bite.

  * * *

  Meagan had no idea where Garrett was. She was supposed to text him when she arrived, but she hadn’t done that yet. Instead, she strolled through the park, carrying Ivy on her hip.

  Along with the barbecue itself, lots of other activities were underway. While a variety of games were being played by some of the younger kids, a group of rebellious-looking teenagers opted for an aggressive match of volleyball. In another direction, Frisbees soared, with humans and dogs alike chasing them. There was a standard playground with slides and swings and such, but a bouncy castle was available, too. On the outskirts of it all was a trackless train, carrying a load of all-aged passengers.

  Clearly, there was plenty to do, but Meagan had also brought along a satchel of toys to keep Ivy occupied. She figured they would come in handy when they were sitting still. At the moment, though, Ivy was craning her neck to see everything, pointing to this and that.

  Finally, Meagan sent Garrett a text letting him know her whereabouts. She was ne
ar a professional face-painting booth.

  Garrett quickly replied to the text: Stay there. I’ll come get u.

  Meagan typed: OK.

  It wasn’t the most scintillating exchange, but they were both behaving like friends instead of lovers. Adding a sexy emoticon to her message wouldn’t do.

  “We’re waiting for Garrett,” Meagan told her child. “We’re going to meet his brothers.”

  Ivy angled her head. “Him brothees?”

  “He has two.” She wasn’t going to say that they’d lived in foster care together or try to explain what that meant. She kept it simple where her toddler was concerned.

  “Me no brothees.”

  No, her baby girl didn’t have any siblings. Meagan couldn’t even think about more children right now. She was still trying to be the perfect mother to this one. And it wasn’t easy, not with her lack of experience.

  Feeling far too reflective, she looked at her child’s sweet, round face. She’d labored over Ivy’s hair today because the two-year-old wanted it in a style that Candy typically fixed for her, and Candy hadn’t been home to do it. But Meagan finally created a hairdo that made Ivy happy, using a host of sparkly barrettes. The fussy toddler also wanted to wear her new toy tiara, so that was fastened onto her head, too.

  Ivy said, “There Garry!”

  Meagan spun around. Dang, but her kid had a knack for finding Garrett. She was like a bat in that regard, honing in with her “Garry” radar.

  As he walked toward them, Meagan’s pulse skyrocketed. He moved with masculine grace, his shoulders strong and erect. When he smiled, she thought about how delicious he was in bed.

  Ivy reached out to him. Clearly, she wanted him to hold her. Meagan understood just how she felt.

  He scooped the child right up. He met Meagan’s gaze, but he didn’t linger. He played his part like he was supposed to, but their secret was still there, deep in his eyes.

  He spoke to Ivy. “Well, look at you, princess. You have a crown.”

  “Me prinny.”

  He chuckled and asked Meagan, “Is she saying that she’s pretty?”

  “No. She’s confirming that she’s a princess.”