by Tia Wylder
“You are,” Peter said. The way he said the words sent a shiver down my spine. When I met his eyes again, I realized he was giving me a smoldering look.
“Wanna get out of here?” I asked quietly.
Peter grinned. “You have any ideas?”
“Is your driver around?”
Peter nodded. “I can have him meet us outside in ten minutes.”
I grinned. “Good,” I said. I pushed my plate of mostly-untouched sashimi to the center of the table. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”
Peter called his driver, paid the bill, and escorted me outside with my hand resting on his arm. Just being close to him like this was enough to drive me wild. I could hardly wait to be alone with him in the back of his limo.
When Renaldo pulled up, I pulled Peter into the backseat before Renaldo could even stop the car. Before we hit the leather seats, I wrapped my arms around Peter’s neck and pressed my mouth to his. Peter groaned in excitement. He pressed his muscular body to mine, and I moaned softly as I felt the bulge at the fork of his trousers pressing against my thigh.
“God, Honey,” Peter panted in my ear. “I can’t wait. I want you so much.”
I flushed hotly as I slipped my tongue into his mouth and caressed his tongue with my own. Peter groaned loudly. He flipped me down to the cool leather seat and climbed on top of me, shoving a lean thigh between my legs and rubbing it against my crotch until I thought I would explode with desire.
As our kisses grew more intense, Peter reached between our bodies and pulled my dress up to my waist. A heavy smell filled the limo, and I blushed hotly when I recognized it as my own musk. I wanted Peter, more than I’d ever wanted anyone. It had never been like this. Not with my college boyfriend, not with the occasional guys I’d dated here and there.
I’d never felt this intense lust, this desire that made me want to lie back and open myself completely for Peter to take. I wanted to give myself to him, I wanted him to know that I was his and his alone.
“God,” Peter grunted in my ear. His fingers were tracing maddening patterns on the soaked crotch of my panties, and I moaned softly, shifting and arching my back to allow Peter greater access to my body. But he continued teasing me, rubbing my clit with his thumb through the damp fabric.
“Peter,” I moaned, closing my eyes and reaching for his broad shoulders. I pulled him on top of me and kissed him deeply, sucking his lower lip and nipping at his delicate skin with my teeth. There was a fine layer of blonde scruff on his chin and jaw, and I nuzzled at Peter’s neck and chest. I reached between our bodies and unfastened the buttons on his shirt, easing the cotton away from his muscular, sculpted torso.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, running my hand between his pectoral muscles and down the tanned skin.
Peter smirked. “You are,” he said. He grabbed my hands and hauled me into a sitting position before pulling my dress over my head and tossing it to the floor. Now that I was clad only in an emerald silk bra and panties, I felt delicious exposed. Peter reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, throwing it to the ground of the limo as he dipped his head to my breasts. My nipples were so stiff that they almost ached, and when Peter wrapped his lips around the stiff peaks and began to suck, a heavenly sensation raced through my body. I closed my eyes as Peter gently nibbled and licked at the erect skin until I was straining and moaning and tangling a hand in his blonde hair. It felt so good that I felt like I was going to explode.
Peter groaned. He thrust his pelvis against mine, grinding his hard cock into my panties. Through the fabric of his trousers, I could feel that he was bulging. I reached down and stroked his hard manhood through his slacks, cupping my hand around his balls and fondling until Peter groaned with intense pleasure. I kept rubbing and rubbing until he drew back, fumbling with his belt and shoving his trousers down his narrow hips.
Peter’s cock made his boxers stick straight out in the air. I locked my eyes with his as I reached for the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down his thighs. His cock bobbed free, and I salivated at the sight of it. He was beautiful naked – like a Greek god or a statue.
“I want you,” I whispered.
Peter gave me a wicked grin. He reached for my panties and tugged them down my hips, tossing them to the side over his shoulder. He leaned between my legs and inhaled my fragrance, breathing in until I blushed. It was so racy, so private – I’d never had anyone bask in my scent before.
“I want to fuck you, Honey,” Peter growled. Now fully naked, he crawled between my hips and steadied himself with a hand on my hip. I moaned as I felt the head of his erect cock pressing at me. Spreading my legs as far as I could, I arched my back and leaned my head on the leather bench as Peter’s cock slid slowly inside of me. Peter buried himself to the hilt. He put both of his hands on my hips and held me firmly. It felt so good, but I wanted more. I moaned and wriggling, pushing my hips against Peter’s until my clit rubbed against his pubic bone. Pleasure exploded between my legs, and I yelped with ecstasy as Peter began sliding in and out of my body.
Feeling him fill me felt better than anything else I could imagine. Peter rocked and moved in a smooth rhythm, filling me more deeply with each stroke. Soon, he was bent over me, holding my hands over my head and pressing his lips to mine as his cock filled me. Each time my clit brushed against his rock-hard abs, I knew I was closer than ever before to reaching my peak.
When I came, it felt heavenly. Fireworks of pleasure exploded in my body, and I moaned and shook and quivered, turning myself over to Peter with every passing second. It felt so amazing that I could hardly remember to breathe. My own orgasm seemed to set Peter off, and soon he was bucking and gasping and thrusting deeper than ever.
“God,” Peter grunted, burying his face in my neck. “Honey, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you.”
He collapsed against me, and I wrapped my arms around his sweaty back, holding him close. I knew I shouldn’t say it, but the words were on the tip of my tongue.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” I whispered.
Peter didn’t reply.
I frowned and tried to sit up, brushing my sweaty hair away from my forehead.
“Well?” I asked softly. “Don’t you have anything to say to that?”
Peter sat up and sighed. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and gave me a long, intent look.
“Honey,” Peter said, reaching for my hand and holding it. “You know what this is. You know what kind of arrangement we have, don’t you?”
I nodded. I knew he was right.
But I also knew something even worse.
I was falling in love with Peter Anastas.
And soon, I didn’t think anything would be powerful enough to stop me.
Chapter 14
Peter
After my date with Honey, I felt like I was walking on air for the rest of the week. Even work was a breeze. Dealing with my father had never been easier. The next Monday morning, I was going to walk into his office and tell him that I was married and that the newly-crowned Honey Anastas was carrying his first grandchild.
At least, that’s what I hoped to do.
I knew it was silly to think about Honey being pregnant so soon. It had hardly been a month since we’d met, but we couldn’t stay away from each other. Every time I saw her, I felt more drawn to her than ever before. I wanted her. I wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to take her in my arms and love her.
And you’re going to marry her, I thought to myself as I stared in the mirror and adjusted my tie.
Don, my private investigator, had been doing a good job sending me pictures and details of Pamela’s day-to-day life. The only problem was that none of the information had been particularly relevant. It was all boring, normal stuff – her grocery shopping at the expensive organic stores in Manhattan, her having brunch with her girlfriends. There was nothing even remotely sordid.
And I was starting to get frustrated.
O
n Friday, I called Evangeline and told her I wouldn’t be in the office until early afternoon. After hanging up, I called Don.
“Hey,” Don said. It sounded like his mouth was full. “What do you want?”
“Is this a bad time?” I raised my eyebrow. “I am paying you, after all.”
Don snorted. “I’m in the middle of breakfast,” he said, chewing noisily. I imagined crumbs flying out and hitting his phone. “What’s up?”
“Where are you headed today, with Pamela?”
“Hmm, gimme a minute,” Don replied.
I waited patiently.
“I have her on the book for an appointment at this clinic,” Don said. “Why? You feel like showin’ up?”
“Not exactly,” I lied. “Thanks.”
Don and I hung up, and I slipped my phone in my pocket. I knew it was probably a bad idea to tail Pamela – after all, it wasn’t exactly like I had any investigating experience – but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I was dying to see what she did during the day. Did she have another lover, the father of her unborn child?
Or was she up to something much more malicious?
Either way, I was about to find out.
The day was dark and stormy – fall was coming to New York, and I grabbed my umbrella before leaving my condo. Renaldo was waiting for me out front. I had him take me to my office, and I watched from the lobby as he drove away. It felt weird sneaking around my own driver, but I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing.
As soon as the coast was clear, I walked three blocks east and stood on the corner. Sure enough, there was a small building with a bright green awning.
“Best Chances Fertility Clinic,” read the awning in a scripted font.
Great, I thought, rolling my eyes. A sperm bank. She went to a sperm bank, and she’s trying to say the kid is mine!
I didn’t have to wait long. Before I’d been on the curb for ten minutes, I spotted Pamela’s lithe figure. She was wearing a designer trench coat, and her hair was tucked up in a bun on the top of her head. She wore giant sunglasses, but they didn’t go far in disguising her.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and swiped open the camera. As Pamela walked inside the clinic, I snapped a few photos before tucking my phone back in my pocket.
I’m sure my father would be very interested to see this, I thought, glancing down to make sure the pictures had come out.
Just as I was deciding whether I should wait and confront Pamela or leave and wait until I had more evidence, I saw Honey. She was on the opposite sidewalk, striding along in a dark leather jacket with her hair in a braid.
Shit, I thought. She can’t see me, not doing this! She’ll think I’ve lost my mind!
I tried to turn on my heel and run, but it was too late.
“Peter!” Honey called. “Is that you?”
Shit.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, turning around and forcing a bright smile. “How are you?”
Honey smiled – but hers was genuine. She threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.
“I miss you,” Honey purred in my ear. She pulled away and gave me a mischievous look. “We should get out of here.” She shivered. “It’s freezing outside!”
“Um, yeah, well, the thing is…” I trailed off nervously. Oh, nothing, I added silently, trying not to panic. Just waiting for my lying scumbag of an ex-girlfriend to emerge from that fertility clinic!
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said quickly. “Just waiting for a friend.”
“Well, I hope they hurry up,” Honey said. “You want lunch after this?”
“I should really get back to the office,” I said, struggling to keep one eye on Honey and the other on the door of the fertility clinic. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Honey giggled. “I’m going shopping tomorrow,” she said. “With Beth.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “You know. For a dress.”
I grinned. Thinking about Honey all dolled up in a wedding gown filled me with happiness. It was strange to admit – I knew that most rational guys would run for the hills at the idea of someone they’d known for less than three months wearing bridal whites. But this was different. Honey and I had an arrangement – it obviously wasn’t about love.
“Good,” I said.
“And I was thinking, maybe we could take a trip, or something,” Honey said. She shrugged.
“Maybe,” I said.
“Peter? Are you all right?” Honey looked into my eyes, and I saw the concern on her face. “You’re acting a little strange.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“Good,” Honey said. She babbled on: “or we don’t have to go on a trip, we could always just go out for a nice meal after the courthouse.” She laughed. “Maybe if we show up in our fancy clothes, we can get some free champagne.”
I laughed, too. “God, can you imagine what would happen if a photographer saw us? We’d be on the front page of the paper.”
Honey didn’t smile like I expected. “Peter, what if your father gets really angry about this?” She asked softly, biting her lip. “What if…what if he knows?” She added in a quiet voice. “What if he tells you that it doesn’t count, you know, because of the contract…” Honey trailed off, biting her lip.
I shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll do that,” I replied. I frowned. To be honest, I hadn’t thought much of my father lately. It had been weeks since we’d talked – and I wanted to believe that he’d be happy that I’d finally found a wife, especially a wife who knew how to behave in high society.
“But you don’t know, because you haven’t asked him,” Honey continued. She shook her head. “Peter, I don’t know – maybe we should say something. Maybe we should have dinner with him or something, you know? Maybe he should get to know me before I marry his son.”
“I’m an adult,” I said flatly. Thinking about my father had taken me out of my confident mood, and now I felt bleak and depressed as if black clouds were circling the air above my head.
“So am I,” Honey said. She sighed. “I just know that…well, sometimes people like you and me are obligated to our parents, you know?” She leaned in close. “I never thought I’d be on the hook for billions of dollars…but our families are complicated.”
I blinked. In the excitement of wooing Honey, I’d almost forgotten about her little financial problem.
“I know,” I said quickly. “But you’ll get the money for your father, I promise. I swear, Honey – no matter what happens, I’ll help you.”
Honey was starting to look panicked. “But if your father doesn’t accept the marriage, you won’t have any choice,” she said, gnawing on her lip until I saw blood appear. “I mean, if he tells you it’s invalid, he won’t sign over the company, and then you won’t have the money,” she said quickly, getting lost in her own thoughts.
“Just stay calm,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Honey, take a deep breath. This is going to be okay – we are going to be okay, you got it?”
Honey nodded, but she didn’t look like she believed me. Just as she was about to speak, I saw the doors of the fertility clinic open.
“Look, I should really get back to my office,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Peter,” Honey said, putting her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes. “What are you doing? We’re in the middle of a really serious conversation right now!”
Her voice was getting high and shrill, and I cringed.
“Honey, please,” I said through gritted teeth. “Can we talk about this later? I’ll explain everything, I swear—“
“Peter?”
The high, musical sound of Pamela’s voice reached my ears, and I cringed.
“Hi,” I said flatly, turning around.
Pamela was standing there, jutting her hips to the side and smirking at me. When she saw Honey, her smile faded.
“Who is this?”
“This is Honey,” I said, reaching for Honey’s hand and taking it. “My fia
ncée.”
The blood drained from Pamela’s sculpted face until she was completely white. Her eyes grew wide, and her jaw dropped as she raised a hand to me in anger, shaking her fist like an angry schoolmarm.
“Peter, I don’t know what kind of little joke you’re trying to pull, but it’s not going to work,” Pamela hissed. “I’m not going to just stand here and let you humiliate me!”
I shrugged. Oddly, Pamela’s rage and anger was restoring my confidence, and suddenly I felt every inch of the Manhattan executive.
“Then leave,” I said, laughing. “I don’t care, Pamela. We’ve been over for weeks.”
