by Leslie North
Melissa’s surprise radiated through him, but she didn’t pull away. She wanted this, however much she acted like she didn’t. The chemistry between them was fire, and she just pretended like she couldn’t feel the heat.
One kiss turned into another. And another. Donovan cupped her face between his hands, fingers hooked behind her ears. She moaned through the next kiss. And then he pulled away.
“Okay. Take your clothes off.”
She laughed. “Just like that? From kissing to nude?”
Donovan sent her a stern look before tugging off his T-shirt. He pushed his workout shorts down, then said, “No more pussy footing, Hampton. This has been a long time coming, and you know it.”
She blinked innocently. “Well, I sort of thought this would happen with the contestants. Not with me.”
Donovan huffed, tossing his shorts. In just his boxer briefs, he tugged at his hair. “That’s what you’re not understanding. I don’t want to hook up with any of them.” He grabbed her chin between thumb and forefinger. “I just want you.”
Tenderness creased her face, but she jerked her gaze away. “Yeah. We did have pretty great sex.”
Frustration stormed him. It was more than just great sex. A whole lot more. But he wasn’t here to argue. Besides, he couldn’t badger her into being honest with herself.
But maybe he could seduce her into being honest with herself.
“You are sexy as hell,” he said in a low voice, running his thumb over her lower lip. Exactly the way he always imagined in his fantasies. “And even sexier now that you’re carrying my baby. Now let’s get freaky.”
“Wow, Donovan,” Melissa said, working on the buttons of her blouse. “That was inspired. You might as well have asked me to marry you.”
He laughed, rolling her shirt down over her shoulders, gobbling up the view of her breasts bursting out of the silken gray bra. “I’m good like that. Your boobs have grown.”
“Yeah. Apparently I’m pregnant. And they’re only going to get bigger.”
Donovan grunted, running his palm over the hard ridge jutting out from his boxer briefs. “All this pregnancy stuff turns me on, not gonna lie.”
She sent him a private grin. The type he could imagine receiving on their wedding day. Donovan, what in the actual hell are you thinking about?
“And that turns me on too, for some reason,” she said breathily, sidling out of her skirt and panties before unhooking her bra. “Here I am. Nude and ready. Have your way with me.”
Donovan laughed, guiding her back onto the sectional. “I’d get you pregnant a second time if I could.”
“If any man can, it’s you,” she said, smoothing her palms over his chest. “God, I sorta missed this.”
“Don’t be afraid to admit it.” He nuzzled the hollow of her neck, eyes fluttering shut as he relished the unmistakable scent of her, something lemony and earthy. “I did too.”
Donovan skipped kisses down between her breasts, lavishing attention over each nipple before continuing downward to the swell of her belly. He paused there, looking up to catch her gaze. He pressed a lingering kiss there and then continued his journey downward. He ran his thumb along the crease of her pussy, knocking against the tight nub of her clit. She shivered.
“It’s so crazy our baby is in here somewhere,” he said, grazing his lips over the crease. She laughed throatily.
“Somewhere in there. You make it sound like a cavern.”
“Well,” he said, “it sorta is. A growing cavern. Filled with my baby.”
Melissa laughed, but the sound died quickly when he slipped his middle finger inside her, then a second one. He worked them in and out slowly, deep into the velvet heat and back out again, priming her for the grand finale. She writhed against him, moaning low, her eyes drifting shut.
“God, I love it when you’re inside me.”
“Mmm.” He pushed a third finger inside, his cock pulsing at the thought of filling her in other ways. “Me too.”
Donovan massaged her clit while he slowly, methodically, fingerfucked her. Melissa arched her back, face pinched in pleasure, and when he rolled his thumb against her clit again she cried out. Her pussy tightened around his fingers. A long sigh escaped her, and she melted back onto the couch.
“Damn,” he remarked, pressing a kiss to the top of her thigh. “That was faster than I expected.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been awhile.”
“Since the last time?” he asked.
“Since the last time.”
Donovan sat back, realization crashing through him. “Shit. I didn’t bring any condoms with me.” He met her gaze, question marks floating between them. “The closest ones are in my downstairs bathroom. I can go get one.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa whispered, her eyes hooded. “I’m clean. Are you?” He nodded in response.
“And the other big issue, knocking me up, is already a nonissue.” She sent him a mischievous grin. “Now get inside me.”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Donovan locked her lips in a kiss before he surged forward, his fat cockhead nudging for entrance. She inhaled sharply once it popped inside, and all the best sensations greeted him: heat, silk, tightness, and Melissa. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, getting lost there, filling himself with the scent and feel of her.
His eyes drifted shut as he fell into an intimate rhythm with her. Somewhere between tender and starving. They bucked and rolled and rocked until Donovan’s lower abs tightened. The warning sign. Melissa had her ankles hooked behind him, looking wild and sated at the same time. He’d been so lost in the paradise of her, he didn’t even know if she had come again.
“I’m close,” he grunted.
“I never want this to end,” she moaned.
He laughed weakly and drilled into her, his cock spasming over and over again as the pleasure coursed through him. His vision went spotty as he came, only one thing filling his head: Melissa.
They lay on the couch together for a while, his dick going soft inside her, while Melissa hummed and traced small patterns on his bicep. It was perfection. When he finally found the strength to move and clean himself up, Melissa made a small noise of protest.
“Do we have to go back to the real world?”
“Babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
The dimple flashed in her cheek. His honey blonde lover. His chest tightened, and he couldn’t look away. Couldn’t even make himself. And that’s when he realized.
If there had been any doubt before, this moment confirmed it. The only woman he could see anymore was Melissa. Yet he was contractually obligated to see all the women living in his house.
What he wouldn’t give to just stay in this trailer with her forever.
13
Melissa fluffed one of the oversized pillows on Donovan’s sectional. It didn’t need fluffing—hell, nothing in this perfect house needed adjusting or perfecting in any way—but the celebrity journalist had just shown up, and Melissa was a bundle of nerves.
The plan was to record their first interview today. It would be a short segment, thankfully, and with only Donovan. No squad of women to stir things up. Melissa didn’t have to appear either, thank God.
It would be just another day on the job.
If only Melissa could get rid of the nagging feeling in her gut.
Donovan entered the living room a moment later, dressed in what she called his SoCal finest. Alligator shoes, an impossibly trendy belt that almost looked like a lightning bolt, black on black pinstripe button down with gray slacks she was pretty sure Jason Momoa had worn to a movie premier once. He was practically edible. Melissa gripped the edge of the couch.
“Okay. All set.” Donovan rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, which she wished he wouldn’t do. Now he wasn’t just edible, he was irresistible. A knock sounded on the front door. Melissa stood to get it, but he raised a palm.
“Let me.” He sent her a stern look, but the
corners of his lips turned upward. She swallowed a knot of emotion. It was these tiny moments—the tiny gestures—that meant the most to her. Ever since they’d screwed in her trailer the evening before, her emotions had taken a running leap into the stratosphere. His words wouldn’t leave her—I just want you. She had a feeling he meant that in more ways than just the occasional fuck.
A moment later, a feminine voice wafted through the foyer, followed by Donovan’s gruff laugh. The celebrity blogger, Sabina, walked into the living room a moment later, her sky-high heels clicking against the wood floor.
“Wooow,” she gushed as she looked around. “Your house is so much better in person.”
“Oh, you’ve seen pictures before?” he asked.
“Yeah, a few were floating around on the blogosphere,” she commented, heading toward Melissa, a cameraman and light tech following behind her. She tossed a bright grin Melissa’s way. The two knew each other from previous interview spots for different shows and were industry acquaintances.
“Hm,” Donovan said, frowning.
“They were probably leaked by a cast or crew member,” Melissa offered. “It happens a lot.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I keep certain areas under lock and key then,” he mused, sitting on the couch.
“Oh?” Sabina commented with a lifted brow. “That might be a good place to start.”
While the crew got set up, Melissa hovered off to the side. Her role was to step in only if needed. Just to oversee the general direction of the interview and to ensure that all major talking points were covered for promotional purposes. Donovan and Sabina chatted while the crew set up, and Melissa just paced the far wall, checking her phone mindlessly. Finally, the camera was ready to roll.
Sabina started the interview fluidly with a short introduction for her show, Tea with Sabina, which was a reference to the gossip sort of tea. She had a particular format, which often dove deep into speculation and rumors. Melissa had tried to prep Donovan for this, but he waved off her attempts to run him through potential questions. Donovan was confident he could handle anything that came his way.
And so was she. More and more as the interview progressed, too. Sabina fired off questions about his work life—How many employees were under him?. And his past life—How many women had he been with? He didn’t answer that last question, but the picture he painted was clear. Donovan was successful and male and wildly coveted.
Melissa could tell when Sabina was ready to switch gears. It started when her back straightened. A smirk graced her lips. She leaned forward, as though trying to snare Donovan in her question.
“Now tell me. This reality show. Is this really just a chance for you to be misogynistic without consequences?”
Donovan blinked, surprise moving over his face. Sabina was known for her one eighties. Melissa winced.
“Misogynistic? There’s nothing misogynistic about me. I love women. Isn’t that obvious?”
Melissa worked her jaw back and forth. It wasn’t exactly the answer she would have instructed him to give. But it wasn’t exactly the worst. Already she could imagine the inflammatory headlines.
“Of course. You must. Living in a house with seven of them. It’s most boys’ wet dream.”
“Yeah. Things get pretty wet around here,” Donovan said, hefting with a laugh.
Melissa smacked her forehead.
“I’m sure all my viewers can surmise what you mean,” Sabina shot back.
“I have a pool out back,” Donovan said, but he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “We use the pool a lot. That’s all.”
“What would you say to your critics who are tired of programming that centers around men having their unabashed pick of submissive women?”
Donovan didn’t even break a sweat. “I’d say they’re probably jealous. I mean honestly. Who doesn’t want the chance to be on a show like mine?”
Melissa tensed. This was going from bad to worse. Sabina was trying to get viral-worthy soundbites out of him, and he was taking the bait. But he was answering differently than even she expected. It was like he wanted to sound incendiary. Like he was playing a character for the interview.
“So people who take issue with the traditional dynamics of a show like yours are just jealous.” Sabina nodded, making a note on the pad in her lap. “Okay.”
“Let’s be real,” Donovan went on. “I’m a successful gaming-company CEO. I don’t have time for love. Or to look for it. I need someone who’s on my level, and the show helps me find her.”
“So are there any clues you can give us about who we can expect to see show up in the final round?”
Donovan shrugged, his mysterious smile making Melissa’s knees weak. “Oh, you know. Just a woman in love.”
“Have you fallen in love already?”
Donovan’s gaze darted to Melissa, and the brief contact made her insides seize up. We’re not in love. There’s no way we’re in love. Am I in love with Donovan?
“I think you’ll have to watch the show to find out.”
Melissa kept her head down and paced the far wall of the living room as the interview wrapped up. She was embarrassed that her mind had gone directly to her and Donovan at that question. Even though nobody could tell, just the simple fact that her own mind had gone there felt like the whole world was onto her.
Once all the pleasantries had been exchanged and Sabina and her crew had left, Donovan came into the living room beaming.
“So? Major success or what?”
Melissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”
“Oh, come on. What did I do wrong? I nailed that interview, and you know it.”
She sent him a flat look. “Donovan. You were practically playing a character. Which, actually, is fine. But damn. You gave her what she was looking for, you know.”
“Yeah. I did.” He shrugged, perching on the armrest of the couch. “So what?”
“She’s going to use this against you. And if not her, then someone else. You’re playing with fire when you go into those territories. You need to tread carefully.”
He waved away her words, dismissing it entirely. Irritation sparked deep inside. “I don’t care. This is publicity, and that’s what I’m here for.”
“Not all publicity is good publicity,” she reminded him.
“No, Melly. You’re wrong. All publicity is good publicity, and I want it for my company.”
There was no point in arguing with him. He’d made up his mind. He came over and squeezed her shoulder. Soft and tender, reminding her of what they’d shared yesterday. What they’d been sharing since day one.
“I’m heading to a meeting for work, but I’ll be back later. Will you be around?”
She jerked her head into a nod, trying to force a smile. One that wouldn’t betray the emotions that had rumbled to life inside her. Donovan pressed a quick kiss to her forehead then let himself out of the house. Melissa slumped onto the couch, trying to confront the ugly emotions that had cropped up inside her.
The interview rubbed her the wrong way. Way wrong. It felt like confirmation somehow. Yet another reminder that Donovan wasn’t the man for her.
He loved the spotlight. And stirring the pot didn’t even register with him. Melissa knew the myriad ways this could end poorly—and so did Donovan probably—but that wasn’t a red flag for him. No, if anything, it was green.
He wanted to race to the finish line, and he expected a full crew to be there waiting for him. More than expected—he wanted it.
While Melissa just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and wait until people forgot her name.
Whatever they’d shared yesterday was beautiful. But it was a false hope.
Because at the end of it all, Donovan was always going to be the media darling and Melissa, the media grinch.
14
Finally. Progress was being made on the show.
They were halfway through filming, which meant break time. Donovan was gla
d for it. They’d narrowed down the contestant pool to just four ladies—Gemma, who was also a CEO like Donovan; Heather, who was a musician; Lindsay, who was an actress hopeful; and Tara, because Donovan just couldn’t say no to her sweet girl-next-door persona.
The next step was a series of family visits, in which Donovan would spend a weekend at each contestant’s family home, meet the parents, and create some level of drama that would lead to the final two. Almost the home stretch. At least now he’d get week-long breaks punctuated by weekend visits where he had to keep playing this playboy-Donovan charade when really, he just wanted Melissa to agree to get on the show.
Sure, she was in the show, but he wanted her to become a contestant. So he could pick her. The show would have ended weeks ago if she’d done that.
But maybe she knew that was his game plan. Maybe she was wise to protect the viability of her show by staying out of the running and just on the sidelines.
But did she know that picking her wouldn’t be a game at all?
Donovan strode through the house, making laps, checking on all the different workers uninstalling the show’s cameras. Since they’d be off filming for four weeks, Donovan had arranged for the show to vacate for that time frame. Just so he could get some semblance of normalcy again. Once only two contestants remained, they’d return to the house for two more weeks of filming.
And then…done. Donovan headed for the pool, remembering the cameras out there, wanting to check that they were gone too. The reality chapter of his life would be closed. He was readier for that moment than he’d expected. Maybe it was the unexpected stresses of living with a camera crew. Or maybe it was the fact that he was about to be a father and his baby mama had walls erected so tall he didn’t know how to scale them.
“How’s it feel?” Melissa’s voice cut through his thoughts. He spun around, pleased to find her lounging on a chair by the pool. She’d worn a wraparound dress that day that lay crumpled at her sides. Her sun-kissed limbs stretched out, breasts pushing at a taupe bra. Donovan clenched his jaw.
