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Pregnant on the Upper East Side? / The Billionaire in Penthouse B: Pregnant on the Upper East Side?
Pregnant on the Upper East Side? / The Billionaire in Penthouse B: Pregnant on the Upper East Side?
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Pregnant on the Upper East Side? / The Billionaire in Penthouse B: Pregnant on the Upper East Side?

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“I’m not aware of any new occurrences,” Jane replied. The doors opened again. “Are you visiting Gage—Mr. Lattimer, I mean?”

Amanda’s gaze shot to the numbers. “Oops. No. My mind was wandering. I guess I forgot to push the button for my floor.”

“Good night, then.” Jane left the elevator.

“Good night.” Amanda stabbed the 9 button. The doors closed. She smacked a palm against her forehead.

Alex had taken over her brain, and she couldn’t afford to mix business with her personal life again. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have a clear pattern to show her the error of her ways.

During her senior year in high school she’d fallen head over heels for Heath, the star quarterback. She’d almost flunked her last semester and that would have cost her her acceptance to Vassar if her father hadn’t bailed her out by having a long talk with the dean. Amanda suspected there had probably been a deep-pocketed donation along with the discussion.

And then while in college she’d met Douglas at an art gallery. Talk about being stupidly distracted. She’d been young, naive and totally trusting. Douglas had been thirty-two, suave and so attentive. He’d swept her off her feet and taken her to Vegas. Instead of marrying her like she’d expected, he’d proceeded to gamble away the majority of the money she’d inherited from her grandmother on her twenty-first birthday. When the money had run out, so had he. She’d had to call home for airfare. Hadn’t that been embarrassing?

By the time Curtis rolled into her life, her parents considered her truly stupid and irresponsible. And she’d proven them right. She’d been distracted by the whole falling-in-love myth and she’d trusted too much. Apparently her hormonal stupors caused her to miss critical details—details that still could cost her Affairs by Amanda.

But the hormonal stupors induced by Heath, Douglas and Curtis were like mild colds compared to the fullblown flu version Alex brought on.

Maybe a little inoculation would cure her.

No. Don’t go there.

She couldn’t afford to lose her business. That meant she couldn’t lose her head. Because if she lost Affairs by Amanda she’d be forced to admit to her parents and herself that she was a failure.

“Alex.” The flash of hunger in Amanda’s eyes when she opened her door later that Monday was gratifying. The frown that followed was not. “What are you doing here and how did you get upstairs without Henry buzzing me?”

“I’m here because I heard you’re a Monday night football fan. And Gage Lattimer brought me up. He lives in the penthouse.”

She gave him a patient look. “I know who Gage is. You took a lot for granted assuming I’d be at home and free tonight.”

“I did, but I brought food, beer and fresh Krispy Kremes to make up for it.”

Her gaze dropped to the bags in his hands. Indecision filled her face. She shifted on her bare feet, drawing his attention to her fuchsia-painted toenails. “I don’t think—”

“And another party proposition.”

He had her. Whether it was the donuts or the party that sealed the deal didn’t matter. He saw capitulation soften her grey eyes before she opened the door wider, albeit with obvious reluctance. “Come in. But only if you’re pulling for the Giants.”

He grinned. “I have season tickets. Box seats. Fifty yard line. Be nice and I’ll take you to a game.”

That earned him a smile. What more could a guy want? Amanda was smart, sexy, a networking genius. And she liked football.

He scanned the place for competition as he followed her in, but he didn’t spot any sign of a date. He had taken a risk showing up uninvited tonight, but his previous strategy wasn’t working. He’d needed an adjustment. The exercise mat on the floor clued him in to her evening plans and explained her T-shirt, cotton pants and lack of makeup. Not that she needed to paint a face like hers.

He handed over the beer—an imported brew that Julia claimed was the only brand Amanda would drink. “Shove that in the refrigerator while I unpack the rest. The game doesn’t start for an hour. That gives us time to eat and talk about my brother’s birthday party.”

His brother. The lie didn’t slide as easily off his tongue with Amanda as it would with anyone else. For some reason he wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to claim Zack as his son. But revealing that secret would cause nothing but trouble and could possibly hurt Zack. Besides, it was nobody’s business.

“The party you wanted to discuss is for him?”

“Zack’s going to turn eighteen in a few months. I’d like to throw a big bash, one he’ll never forget. And I’ll need your help for that.” He shrugged off his coat and tossed it over the back of a bar stool before extracting the Chinese food containers and lining them up on her kitchen counter, but Amanda’s eyes drilled the donut box. He handed it to her.

“Dessert first?” she asked with a wistful look in her eyes.

How could he deny her? If she would look at him like that they’d both be naked and busy. “Go for it.”

She wasted no time ripping open the top, pulling out a glazed donut and biting into it. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back. “Mmm. Oh, my God, these are amazing.”

Her throaty words hit him below the belt with a kick of arousal that nearly took him to his knees.

She’ll look like that in bed.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as she greedily consumed the rest of her prize. She didn’t lift her lids until she’d finished the last sugary bite. Her tongue swept her lips, but white flakes of glaze clung to the corners. She lifted one finger to her mouth and licked.

He wanted that job.

Screw strategy. He grabbed her hand, carried it to his mouth and lapped her sticky fingertip with his tongue. Her breath hitched. But she didn’t slap him or yank her hand away. Without taking his eyes off hers he moved from the first sweetened digit to the second. His tongue swirled around the tip, and then he pulled her thumb into his mouth and repeated the process. Her pupils dilated and her lips parted.

He had to have her mouth. Now. Releasing her hand, he closed the distance between them.

“You have more sugar here.” He dipped his head to lick it away.

She leaned into him, lifting her chin in silent invitation. She didn’t have to ask twice. He traced the sugary outline of her lips. It wasn’t enough. He covered her mouth with his and delved into her silky warmth. The sweetness of the donut gave way to the unique flavor of the woman in his arms.

He’d been waiting months for this. He caught her waist and pulled her closer, crushing her against his chest and deepening the kiss. Her hands rested briefly on his shoulders, her short nails digging into his muscles and then her arms slid around his neck. She opened her mouth wider for him and her tongue sought his, slick and sweet, warm and wet.

She fit against him even better than he’d expected. Need rumbled up from his gut to his throat. He mapped her spine, her waist, her hips. She was long and lean and hot. His fingers found silky bare skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her pants.

She gasped and lifted her head. But she didn’t pull away. Her passion-darkened eyes sought his. “I—We shouldn’t do this, Alex.”

“It’s long overdue.”

Her gaze dropped back to his mouth. Regret flickered across her face. “I don’t sleep with my clients.”

“Should I fire you?” he teased.

She stiffened and panic widened her eyes. “You’d do that?”

He rubbed her back soothingly, enjoying the smooth warmth of her skin. “No. I honor my promises. And I promise you, Amanda, this isn’t a mistake. We’re going to be magnificent together. In bed and out.”

Indecision flitted across her features. And then she sighed. Her fingers threaded through his hair. She pulled his face back to hers. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t the aggressive, carnal, no-holds-barred kiss she planted on him.

She devoured him with the same intensity she’d given to the baklava at lunch and the donut tonight, and he was more than willing to be consumed. He cupped her butt and pressed her hips to his. If she hadn’t known where he wanted this to go then his growing erection was a dead giveaway. Damn, she was potent.

By the time she lifted her head and slid her hands to his pectorals, his heart was slamming like a wrecking ball against his chest wall.

She licked her damp lips. “This is crazy. I don’t have time for a man in my life right now. For the next few years, my career is my priority. Alex, if you can’t handle this being temporary then we need to stop. Now.”

Her frankness momentarily took him aback. But her willingness to speak freely was one of the things he liked about Amanda. Was she joking? What man would say no to a brief, passionate affair? Temporary was his specialty.

“I can handle it. Where’s your bedroom?”

For a second she hesitated, looking as if she might change her mind, but then she took his hand and led him across the living room. His gaze dropped to her butt in the thin knit pants. Nice. Firm. Rounded.

Her bedroom was as pink and white and feminine as the rest of the apartment. A thick, white faux-fur rug covered the floor. Filmy white drapes, tied back with brightly colored silky-looking scarves, hung behind a platform bed in a makeshift headboard. He’d never been one for bondage, but he couldn’t help thinking those scarves could come in handy later. He would like to tie her up and pleasure her until she begged him to stop.

Right now he was too impatient to play sexy games.

He yanked her hand, spinning her back into his arms. Their bodies and mouths slammed together, lips parting, tongues clashing. She met him stroke for stroke. Her fingers dug into his waist. Her pelvis nudged his. She wasn’t shy or coy, and her boldness was an incredible turn-on. He whisked her shirt over her head. Before he could savor her pale, smooth skin she attacked his shirt without hesitation.

Dressed, Amanda looked deceptively lean, but she had curves. Not overblown. But subtle, exquisite. Perfect. He wanted to linger, to savor her breasts above her lavender lace bra, but he’d wanted Amanda for months and hunger snuffed out patience. The bra gave way with a flick of his fingers. He tossed it aside and caught one puckered pink nipple in his mouth, the other in his hand. She tasted good. Smelled good. Her pale skin was warm and silky soft against his lips.

Her fingers speared his hair, flexed into his scalp with an energizing tug. Then she lightly scraped her nails across his shoulders and down his sides. His muscles rippled in the wake of her touch. Her nimble fingers encountered his belt. The leather gave way quickly, followed by the button and zipper of his pants. She had him so aroused he could barely concentrate.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one in a hurry. Her palms flattened against his hips and shoved the fabric of his pants and boxers over his butt and down his thighs. Her caress sent a shock of need through him, making him grit his teeth and struggle to fill his lungs.

He released her long enough to kick off his shoes and the remainder of his clothing, and then he ripped her pants down her long legs. The tattoo he uncovered when he removed her bikini panties caught him by surprise. “A martini?”

She nibbled her bottom lip as if she expected him to be repulsed by the ink. “An appletini. It’s a reminder that life’s supposed to be fun.”

With one finger he outlined the tilted glass just below her left hipbone and then knelt and sipped from the inked rim. He lifted his gaze to hers and rose. “It’s sexy as hell. Tasty, too.”

Her slow smile and the desire in her eyes decimated what was left of his control. “So are you.”

And that’s when he realized he might be in trouble. A little of Amanda Crawford might not be enough.

Four

Alexander Harper had been hiding a body to die for beneath his custom designer suits.

His wide shoulders, ropey muscles and washboard abs had Amanda salivating for the feel of those brawny arms wrapped around her. She bisected his smooth chest with her fingers, drawing a line between his pectorals to the goody trail below his navel and the dense dark hair surrounding his erection. His stomach quivered beneath her touch and his arousal twitched, begging her to curl her fingers around his thick length. She wasted no time in doing so. His breath whistled.

“Amanda.” The man actually growled.

She grinned mischievously up at him and stroked him from base to tip. “Yes?”

His pupils expanded and his skin flushed. “You’re playing with fire.”

“That’s okay. I like it hot.” She just hoped her desire for Alex didn’t burn her before it burned out.

Experience told her this was a mistake, but she couldn’t stop now. He’d monopolized her thoughts for three long months and she ached for him. Her thumb found a slick droplet pearling on his engorged tip and spread it around. She leaned forward to lick his tiny, brown nipple.

One strong arm banded around her, yanking her flush against his hot torso. His other hand stabbed into her hair, fisted and tugged just hard enough to force her head back. The combination of his scorching heat, his strength and his controlled aggression robbed her breath. His kiss was hard, bordering on rough, his passion barely contained. And she loved it. How long had it been since anyone wanted her so intensely? Had anyone, ever? She couldn’t remember. But she doubted it.

She released his erection, wound her arms around his neck and relished the heady desire racing through her. She loved that Alex was taller and broader than she. Both Curtis and Douglas had been her height. She’d felt like an Amazon with them. But not with Alex. He was bigger in every way, and he loomed over her, making her feel dainty, desirable and feminine and not the least bit delicate.

He skimmed her curves, kneaded her bottom. His tongue and hands worked magic, arousing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced as they flexed into her flesh. She kissed him back, tangling her fingers in his hair and arching as tight against him as she could get. It wasn’t close enough. She wanted to wind herself around him but settled for lifting her leg, sliding it up the outside of his hair-roughened, rock-hard, muscled thigh and hooking it around his waist. He grasped her knee and arched his hips, plunging deep inside her. The shock of his sudden penetration filled her, forcing the breath from her lungs on a moan of pure ecstasy.

He withdrew and then rocked upward again and again, nearly lifting her off the ground with each thrust. Her heart raced and every muscle in her body clenched with need as he drove deep, so deep inside her.

Alex swung her around and her world tilted. She felt herself falling. She clung to his shoulders and whimpered into his mouth, but he didn’t drop her. He eased her onto the mattress. Cool sheets pressed against her back, but it was the hot body above her and driving into her that held her rapt attention.

She tore her mouth free to gasp for air and buried her face in his neck. She couldn’t resist a nibble. He smelled good, tasted good, felt good. Around her. Over her. Inside her. Tension coiled below her navel. She squeezed him tight internally and externally, clasped his tight buttocks and pulled him in deeper still.

His groan reverberated against her chest. With each thrust he teased exactly the right spot, and she was getting close, so close. He captured her shoulders and barrelrolled them sideways until he was on his back and she straddled him on her knees.

“Finish us,” he ordered hoarsely. His hand found her breasts.

She’d never been much for taking orders, but when he tweaked her nipples like that, sending darts of pleasure straight to her core, she would do pretty much anything he asked. She rose above him and then sank down, taking as much of him as she could. Over and over she filled herself with him, rose and dropped, swiveled and rocked. Again and again. His blunt-cut nails raked down her belly to comb through her pale curls. He found her center and buffed her with his thumb.

She wanted to wait, to savor, to explore the tension twisting tighter with each caress, but it had been too long. She couldn’t hold off. Ecstasy exploded through her, radiating outward in shock wave after shock wave. Her muscles contracted, whipping her forward until she and Alex were face to face, breast to breast, her palms planted beside his head. She lost herself in the hunger burning in his eyes, hunger for her that beat anything she’d experienced before. He gripped her hips as he thrust upward, harder and faster, and then his eyes squeezed shut and his body bowed off the bed as release jerked through him, setting off a series of tiny aftershocks inside her.

Their rapid breaths mingled as she stared at the handsome face beneath hers and tried to right her world. She’d had sex with demanding, impatient, workaholic Alex Harper. And she was absolutely certain she was going to regret that…in a minute.

But right now she felt too damned good to worry that Alex Harper had just given her the best sex of her life.

Alex Harper was a god in bed. Amanda could have lived without that knowledge.

Muscles quivering, she fell back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath and listening to Alex doing the same beside her. Wow.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions. And she had paved miles of it last night. She’d meant to send Alex packing the second he’d arrived. But the fresh, still warm donuts, along with the possibility of another party contract, had defeated her.

And then she’d meant to kick him out when he licked her fingers, igniting a blaze inside her. But she hadn’t been able to say the words no or go.

She’d planned to send him home after they made love the first time. And again after the second. But somehow they’d ended up sharing dinner while watching the second half of the Giants game naked before climbing back into bed, where he’d held her until she’d fallen asleep.

Third time the charm? Could she rally her willpower this time? And did she really want to?

Starting a Tuesday morning with multiple orgasms beat an alarm clock any day of the week. She smiled to herself and turned her head to find Alex’s dark eyes focused on her.

Her heart skipped a beat. Having him here felt too good. Too right. “You should go.”

“In a minute. Right now I don’t think I could stand.” He delivered the words with a rueful but naughty smile that practically turned her wrong-side-outward.

The scent of their lovemaking permeated her bedroom. The lingering fatigue of a busy night weighted her muscles. Amanda wasn’t sure she had the strength to crawl to the shower and prepare for her morning appointment. Alex had even farther to go.

“How will you make it to Connecticut and back in time for work?”

“I keep a spare suit at the office. I’ll shower here. With you.”

A thrill raced through her, but she choked out a laugh. “I don’t have to be psychic to know how that’ll end up. With both of us being late for work.”

He grinned and rolled onto his side. But then his smile faded. He gently brushed the hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Come home with me this weekend.”

Her lungs refused to work.

“We never discussed Zack’s party. He’s a great kid. If you meet him you’ll get a feel for what he likes, and we’ll have a better chance of surprising him with something that’ll blow his mind.”

Work. He’s talking about work. Focus. “You want this to be a surprise party?”