One Wild Night: Magnate's Mistress...Accidentally Pregnant! / Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress / The Good, the Bad and the Wild

Ally broke the kiss and stepped back. Even in the dim light, he could see the flush on her chest and the rise and fall of her breasts with each shallow breath. With a long look that scorched him, she reached for his hand and led him down the hall.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_ebbed7f3-e3ba-5574-bc8d-ee2502859468)

YOU’RE CRAZY. SEND HIM HOME. Don’t do this. Her conscience hammered the words at her as she led Chris the short distance down the hallway. Her whole body was alive, though, for the first time since she’d left Tortola, and the electric hum thrumming through her easily outweighed any arguments her brain might want to put forth.

Chris had a pull on her she didn’t quite understand, but now wasn’t the time to try to work it out. The light in his eyes and the promise in his kiss were irresistible, and she really didn’t care about tomorrow’s complications tonight.

It wasn’t as if she could end up pregnant or anything.

Chris traced a finger gently down the line of her spine as she walked, and goose bumps rose on her skin. His hand splayed across her back. Two more steps and they were in her room, the bed beckoning.

He caught her shoulders and pulled her against him. The skin of her back met the hard planes of his chest as he nipped the sensitive skin of her neck. Warm hands smoothed around her waist to massage circles on her stomach before moving up to allow his thumbs to graze tantalizingly over the flesh spilling over the cups of her bra.

Her breasts were more sensitive these days, and the exquisite sensation had her grasping at his thighs for support. Her fingers dug into the denim as he increased the pressure and circled a finger around the hard point of her nipple. Her head fell back against his shoulder, allowing him greater access, and the heat of his breath tickled her ear.

She moaned as he slid her straps off her shoulders, and her breasts were released into his hands. Chris murmured in appreciation as he teased her aching nipples, causing her to writhe against him.

One hand on her stomach held her in place as he moved his hips against her, his erection pressing insistently against the curve of her bottom. The other hand inched her cotton skirt upward to the tops of her thighs, and she hissed as Chris’s fingers slipped beneath the lace edge of her panties and found her.

She exploded almost immediately at his touch, bucking hard against his hand as the orgasm moved endlessly through her. Chris whispered words of erotic encouragement in her ear, fanning the flames, until she sagged against him, her trembling legs no longer able to support her weight.

He turned her then, his mouth moving over hers hungrily, stealing her breath, as he made quick work of her remaining clothes. Ally cursed her numb fingers as she fumbled with his straining zipper, the need to touch him overwhelming. When it finally released, she hooked her hands in his waistband, drawing his clothes downward as she sank to her knees.

Chris’s hands threaded through her hair, massaging her scalp as she took him into her mouth. She heard his sharp hiss of pleasure as she ran her tongue over his hard length, and his fingers tightened.

In two quick moves, Ally found herself between the soft bed and Chris’s hard body, and every erotic dream she’d had in the past six weeks came true as he slid into her and sighed her name.

The husky sound of her name on his lips caused her to open her eyes. While the shadows of the room cast hollows around his features, she could see the intensity in his eyes as he moved against her, pushing her to another release.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she held on, greedy for what he could give her, and when the tremors began, he redoubled his efforts, holding her hips firmly and picking up the pace. She arched as the pleasure turned too intense, only vaguely aware that the sounds she heard came from her as she went over the edge. From a distance, she heard Chris groan as he gathered her close and stiffened, and time seemed to freeze as he held her while the aftershocks moved through them.

Chris’s breathing was harsh in her ears and his heart thumped heavily against her chest. Ally chased after her scattered thoughts, refusing to listen to the small voice in her head saying, This is where you belong.

She’d given in to the sensual pull of Chris, knowing full well it would only complicate their situation further. The intimacy of Chris, in her bed holding her while her heartbeat slowed to normal, unnerved her, but even as she worried, her fingers toyed with the fine hairs at his nape, loving the feel of him against her again.

After one last deep, shuddering sigh, Chris rolled to his back, pulling her with him to pillow her head on his chest. His fingers combed through her tangled curls as she listened to the even thump of his heart.

The silence wasn’t quite a comfortable one, and the longer it stretched out, the more tense Ally became, the wonderful afterglow evaporating as quickly as the moisture on her skin.

Fatigue was catching up with her, fuzzing her brain as she tried to think. Was he planning to stay the night? He certainly didn’t seem in any rush to move. Should she let him stay or usher him to the door? If she let him stay, it would only make things much more difficult later.

Yeah, because I don’t want to get too used to having him around.

“Chris,” she whispered, only to be interrupted by her own jaw-cracking yawn.

Chris’s hand circled on her back until she completed the yawn and tried again. “Shh. Just sleep now. We’ll talk later.”

We should talk now, she told herself, even as her brain latched onto the idea of sleep and the weight pulled on her. But the soothing caress of Chris’s hands was too much to resist, and she started to slip away. But this is really nice, too, her body told her, already relaxing against him.

Just don’t get used to it, she reminded herself.

Ally’s breathing deepened, evening out as she slept, each exhale sliding across his bare chest like a caress. She talked in her sleep, mumbles he couldn’t understand. He tried to pick up a word here and there, but nothing she said made sense.

It would be too easy if, like in a movie, she’d tell me everything I needed to know while she was asleep. Insight into her thought process would help. A lot.

He knew Ally was humoring him, to a certain extent, simply because of the leverage his legal team gave him. He could tell by the wary look she couldn’t quite hide completely. But her response to him tonight hadn’t just been an attempt to play along. Passion had brought down that wall, revealing the Ally he remembered, and at least while she slept, she couldn’t argue with him.

Ally turned over and snuggled her back up against his side. Pushing up onto his elbow, he curved around her, spooning her to his chest. She sighed deeply in response.

Chris smoothed a hand down her arm and over her stomach, stopping at the flat plane beneath her navel.

Their child was right under his hand.

Something primal swept through him—a feeling of possessiveness, a need to protect. Slowly, an inkling of what had driven his father to battle his mother so ferociously dawned on him. It didn’t make what he had done right—far from it—but Chris was starting to understand the sentiment.

He didn’t want to fight Ally. To drag her and their child through the courts until one or all of them were destroyed by the process.

Ally mumbled in her sleep, and it brought a smile to his face. He was making the right decision; he knew that for certain now.

He closed his eyes, his hand still in place, rising and falling slightly with Ally’s breath. As he drifted toward sleep, he realized that, unlike for his father, that primal feeling extended to his child’s mother, too.

Ally woke to the smell of bacon. It didn’t make sense to her groggy brain. Her mom knew better than to drop by early in the morning or without warning, so it must be the neighbors upstairs. Why did they have to be so loud on a Saturday morning…

She rolled over, intending to put a pillow over her head and go back to sleep, but the mess of covers on the other side of the bed reminded her she hadn’t slept alone last night.

That memory caused her to sit up as the details fought for notice: a pair of men’s shoes on the floor by the door; her bra hanging drunkenly off the back of a chair; the noise and aroma coming from her kitchen…

Chris was still here. And he was now cooking breakfast.

She nibbled her thumbnail, unsure how she felt about that. One thing was for sure—she wasn’t going to take the risk of facing him naked with bedhead. She padded quickly to the bathroom, grabbed a robe and did her best to make herself presentable. She came out, still knotting the robe, just as Chris stuck his head around the corner.

“I thought I heard you.” His shirt was a bit wrinkled from a night on the floor, and a dark shadow traced his jaw, but he still looked too good for her equilibrium to handle. Especially when he grinned like that. “Are you hungry?”

After so many weeks of morning sickness, the absence of nausea felt strange. Maybe she was finally getting past it. Thank goodness. She nodded and let Chris lead her into the sunshine-lit kitchen.

She loved her kitchen. She loved to cook. But never in the three years she’d lived here had anyone cooked for her, so the neatly set table for two caught her off guard. It was a very simple breakfast, just bacon, toast and fruit with a cup of tea steaming invitingly on the side.

A lump rose in her throat. Chris had made her breakfast.

She tried to clear the lump. “It smells wonderful. Thank you.”

Chris just grinned at her again as he moved through her kitchen with ease, bringing milk and jam to the table. “I tried to keep it simple, as I wasn’t sure how the whole morning-sickness thing was going.”

“I think I’m getting over it. I’m certainly starving today.”

“Then eat.” He slid several strips of bacon onto her plate before sitting back to sip his coffee. The bacon was extra crispy without being burnt—just the way she liked it.

“You’re a good cook.”