Pregnant By Mr Wrong. Rachael Johns

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СКАЧАТЬ across her skin at his touch.

      Bailey could already hear him clattering about in her tiny kitchen by the time she flopped down onto the couch. Her eyes landed on a pile of magazines on her coffee table—three copies of Vogue and one about pregnancy. Sheesh! She leaned forward, snatched up the magazine and shoved it under the cushion on which she sat. She’d picked it up yesterday on her lunch break and had been careful to keep it in her bag so no one at the hotel where she worked saw it, but she hadn’t considered the need to hide things in her own home.

      As she took deep breaths in and out, she glanced around for anything else that might give her state away. Thank God the pregnancy test kit was long gone, and when Quinn saw the empty pizza box in the kitchen, he’d likely just think her a lazy glutton. If she didn’t slow down on the eating front, she’d be the size of a cow by the time this baby arrived.

      She needed to spend less time eating and more time tidying her apartment, she thought as she took in the chaos around her. Her apartment, which was normally neat and ordered, was anything but that right now. Exactly like her life. How had everything gone so downhill so quickly?

      Hopefully Quinn, who hadn’t been inside in a long while, wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Tapping her sock-clad feet on the carpet, she frowned as a noise like the blender started up in her kitchen. What on earth was he doing in there? While part of her wanted to get up and go check, her eyelids felt so heavy and the couch was too comfortable. She curled her legs up beside her and...

      * * *

      “He’s always working. He never wants to spend any time with me. We’re supposed to be getting married in under two months and he can’t even find the time to talk to me about it.” Bailey hated crying, hated sounding so needy, but now the words were spilling from her lips, and she couldn’t seem to stop them.

      “He’s a fool,” Quinn said, sliding his hand up her neck and into her hair. He twisted her head so they were looking into each other’s eyes. The way he looked at her sent ripples of awareness through her, and for a second she forgot what she was so upset about. All she could think about was how close he was and how good he smelled.

      “You’re gorgeous, Bails,” he whispered, his hot palm still resting against her bare neck. “Don’t let anyone ever make you feel otherwise.”

      Her nipples tingled as she wished his hands on them, as well. Then, as if he were a genie granting her every desire, he leaned forward and kissed the lone tear that, in her rage and upset, had trickled down her cheek.

      He pulled back, and their eyes met again as he licked his lips, tasting her on them. They stared at each other a few long moments, Bailey’s heart was pounding so hard she’d have sworn he could hear it, as well. And then he dipped his head and kissed her again. This time full on the lips. All notions of right and wrong flew out the window. All Bailey could think about was how amazing Quinn’s lips felt on hers.

      He dropped his hands to her ass and pulled her tighter against him, kissing her like she’d only ever dreamed of being kissed. Having been neglected of late, her hormones stood to attention, begging her to up the ante and kiss him back.

      A tiny voice in the depths of her mind tried to tell her that getting naked with him wasn’t a good idea, but Bailey ignored it, helping Quinn by shrugging off her jacket as he pushed it down over her shoulders. The blouse she’d been wearing for work came next. Their mouths parted as he whipped it over her head and she shivered momentarily as the cool evening air hit her skin.

      Not a word was said between them. Not a thought to where they were and who might happen to stumble upon them. Instead, Quinn dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Despite the lace of her bra, she bit down on a shriek as he twirled his tongue around her bud, the sensations shooting right to her core.

      “God, Quinn.” She reached out to steady herself on his shoulders as he took her other nipple and gave it equal attention. With each flick of his tongue, he drove her a little more insane, a little more desperate. She wanted him, she needed him. Not just his mouth on her, but all of him, inside her.

      She reached her hand out and slid it down the front of his trousers. He groaned as her fingers closed around the prize, his warmth and hardness only increasing her desire. She was wet for him, her knees shaking, her toes quivering and her breath coming hard and fast in anticipation.

      He snapped his head back up and kissed her again, simultaneously raking her skirt up to her hips. Unsteady on her feet, she leaned back against a whiskey barrel for support and spread her legs, desperate for his touch. And Quinn gave her exactly what she wanted. He hooked one finger beneath her panties and slid the finger inside her. All it took was a few deft strokes and his mouth back on her nipple, and she was panting like she’d never panted before.

      As the pressure built up inside her, all she could think about was having him. “Do you have a condom?” she whispered.

      In reply, he conjured one out of his back pocket and held it up. Of course Jewell Rock’s chief Casanova would carry a condom. While she snatched the little foil packet and ripped it open with her teeth, Quinn yanked down his trousers. Smiling like someone about to win the lottery, she reached for his naked erection and rolled on the protection.

      Then, also grinning, Quinn lifted her atop the barrel and removed her panties, dropping them to the floor beside them. Desperate, Bailey wrapped her legs around him and anchored her hands on his shoulders, her head falling back as he thrust into her.

      * * *

      “Bailey? Bailey?”

      She blinked her eyes open and shook her head, shooting up into a sitting position at the sound of Quinn’s voice. He was perched on the edge of her coffee table, only a foot or so away from her, holding out a large glass with white liquid inside. How long had she been out cold?

      Long enough to have a sordid dream.

      Her cheeks burned and she hoped he couldn’t read her mind.

      “What is that?” she asked, her tone perhaps a tad accusatory, but having Quinn so close set her on edge. Awareness and guilt warred within her.

      “It’s a vanilla milk shake.”

      “You made me a milk shake?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice as she reached out to take it from him, careful not to let their fingers touch in the exchange.

      He cocked his head to one side and smiled that toe-curling grin. “Well, you said you didn’t want coffee. I couldn’t find the ingredients for hot chocolate and you don’t like tea, but of course you had ice cream.”

      “You remembered I don’t like tea?” The surprises just kept coming.

      He nodded, his gaze trained on hers. “Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends remember each other’s likes and dislikes.”

      She swallowed. Friends? Was that what they were? Friends with benefits? Friends who accidentally made a mistake and slept together? Friends who just happened to have conceived a baby?

      “Thank you,” she managed and then took a sip of her drink. The cool sweetness slid down her throat. The man was not only hot and good in bed, but he could also make a mean milk shake.

      “Did you make one for yourself?” she asked, leaning back into the couch, trying to look relaxed—even though she felt anything but.

      “No. СКАЧАТЬ