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  I wanted him to want me.

  How had this all become so one-sided? Twenty minutes ago, I had been feeling like everything in my life was going right. I knew I loved Ethan Garrison. I’d known deep down for a couple of months now. I loved who I was when I was with him. I loved how he made me feel.

  I felt powerful and sexy and smart when I was with him. He built me up and complimented me, and I thought I complimented him. The way he looked at me sometimes had been enough to convince me I wasn’t the only one falling in love.

  But it was all clear to me now I had been the only one who’d let my feelings take over. He had kept to the contract. This relationship was, at the end of the day, just a business deal. My role was to carry his child. After that, I would return to my normal solitary life, get an apartment back by NYU, and continue focusing on my career and building my own life.

  My own life without Ethan.

  I surprised myself by sobbing harder than I thought I physically could.

  It had been so easy for him to walk away from me. He hadn’t even looked back. He didn’t need to. I was a business partner that he happened to have sex with on a near-daily basis. I was the one who had let myself get too caught up in him.

  And now I had to pay the price.

  My heart was broken. My soul was crushed.

  And his child was still inside me, his little feet pushing up against my bladder, forcing me to stand on wobbly knees and make my way to the bathroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ethan

  The room looked like my living room. The floors were an inky dark obsidian, which were so shiny, they reflected the dancing flames in the fire. There wasn’t a single thing in the room except for a white fur rug in front of the fireplace. At the top right corner of the rug was a silver tray, adorned with six chocolate dipped strawberries and accompanied by an ice bucket with champagne. Two empty glass flutes lay on their sides on the rug. They were nearly swallowed up by the plush white fur.

  I peered around, wondering where all my furniture was.

  I was distracted from my search when my gaze returned to the rug and found a new addition to the scene. Devon was standing in the middle of the rug. She wore a long, sheer white robe embellished with rhinestones and lace. It was done up around her waist with a silk sash.

  I could see all of her through the sheer fabric, her muscular thighs, her lean stomach, perky breasts, hard nipples, and the curve of her waist and hip. She was beautiful.

  She tossed her curtain of dark hair over her shoulder. Her bright green eyes glittered as she regarded me. The lust in her gaze was enough to set my soul on fire.

  She undid the sash slowly and let it fall to the floor. The sheer robe slipped from her shoulders to join the sash on the rug.

  Devon went slowly to her knees.

  “Come,” she whispered.

  I went.

  When I stood before her, I realized I was naked too. My cock was hard and reaching upward. I was aware of how close she was to it. Her breath grazed my thighs as she leaned in, her mouth disappearing from view as she took my balls between her lips and sucked gently.

  Her hands found my shaft, and she began working me up and down slowly.

  I gathered her hair in my hands and guided her up until she lifted her gaze to meet mine. She never looked away as she opened her mouth for me. I eased my cock between her lips. Her tongue on the bottom of my shaft was warm and slick. Her lips sealed around me, and she puckered her cheeks, sucking me hard.

  The tip of my dick hit the back of her throat. She held me, my hands still in her hair, until I let her breathe again, pulling out of her throat. She licked her lips and opened wide for me again.

  I knew I was alone as soon as I opened my eyes. The ceiling I was staring at was not a familiar one. That’s when I remembered that I was at a hotel around the block from my office.

  I remembered the fight with Devon the previous evening.

  I remembered how she had waited for me to say something as I was about to walk out the door, and I recalled how no words seemed fitting enough to be spoken. So, I had left after muttering “bye” over my shoulder.

  I wondered what she had done afterward. Those thoughts had kept me awake until nearly three in the morning.

  I sighed and rubbed my eyes. That’s when I felt the pressure in my cock. I was rock-hard and ready, and there was no warm body who smelled like coconut beside me for me to fill up with my come. It was a little unsettling to wake up with the desire to fuck the girl I had just left behind at my place.

  I ripped the blankets off and went into the bathroom. I unwrapped the body lotion on the counter beside the sink, pumped a generous amount into my palm, and wrapped my fingers around my cock.

  I braced myself with one hand on the full-length mirror beside the sink. I hunched over, my hand working vigorously, as I let my mind wander over the tantalizing images from my dream.

  Devon, naked, waiting for me on the fur rug with those dazzling eyes of hers.

  Devon, opening her mouth wide for me and letting me fuck her throat.

  Devon, on her knees in front of me, her breasts full and firm, her mouth and lips feeling like velvet on my cock, the smell of sex lingering in the air around us.

  My cock pulsed in my hand at the thought of fucking her tight, little pussy. There was no woman on the planet who could hold a candle to Devon. All I wanted to do was slip my cock in that wet, little slit of hers and fuck her with her legs in the air. I wanted to hold her ankles and spread those legs wide and bury my cock so deep in her pussy that she screamed my name. I wanted to feel her come on my cock as she came.

  My hand was a poor substitution for Devon’s body. It lacked the softness of her and the smell of her. I ached for the way she would rotate her hips above me, pushing my cock against her walls as she clutched her breasts and looked to the ceiling in breathless ecstasy.

  I gritted my teeth as I worked myself closer to the edge.

  I kept the image of Devon in my mind. I carried on from where the dream ended, imagining her falling on her back on the rug and letting her knees fall open for me. I imagined settling between her legs to taste her and eat her up while she writhed and moaned in the firelight.

  As the soft sounds of pleasure from my waking dream reached my ears, I let myself finish. I came up my stomach, sending warm lashes of come onto my cool skin. When I was done, it was harder to hold onto the flashes from my dream, and the images started to flicker away.

  Once I was in the shower, the ache I had woken with returned.

  I wasn’t well-rested enough for the meeting I was struggling through. I was meeting with four board members of a company I had purchased over two years ago to discuss the previous quarter’s growth and hear any suggestions they might have to increase productivity. It was a small company that was just gaining momentum now.

  The creator of the company, Joshua Brooks, was at the front of the room giving a presentation about their projected growth for the next three months.

  I rubbed my eyes and nodded along, making sure I was soaking in every word he said. These meetings were important. My son was going to inherit responsibility for this company one day, and I was committed to making sure I put in the work now, so he didn’t have to struggle twenty years from now.

  “So,” Joshua was saying, “in conclusion, we anticipate a margin of six-percent growth each quarter of the next year. That will put us at a total increase of twenty-four percent by January.”

  The door to the office burst open. The blinds hanging in front of the window on the door clattered against the glass, and all five of us in the conference room swung around to look at who had burst in.

  Heather stood there, one hand still on the door handle, her eyes fixed on me and her mouth screwed up in a tight line I had only seen once before when I’d broken the heads off all her Barbies when she was nine.

  I pushed my chair back and made to stand.

  “Ethan,” Heather said, her voice shriller t
han I had ever heard it, “can I borrow you for a moment?”

  It was clear she was doing her best to keep her composure. The four men in the room all looked at me, their wide eyes expressing their rather appropriate concern for my safety. This probably looked a lot worse than what it was. They probably thought Heather was my girlfriend.

  “Heather,” I said evenly, resting my knuckles flat on the table, “I’m in the middle of a meeting. Can you wait for me in my office? We’ll be done here in fifteen minutes.”

  “No, I can’t. I only need five minutes. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not going to walk out of a business meeting so you can lecture me like a toddler, Heather. Go wait in my—”

  “Ethan,” Heather growled, “now.”

  I straightened and fixed my jacket. I gave the men in the room an apologetic nod. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, it would seem I need to speak with my sister.” I was sure to point out Heather was not, in fact, my girlfriend.

  All men nodded, and I could feel their eyes on my back as I left the room and brought Heather to my office. As soon as the door was closed behind me, she spun around, jabbed a finger into my chest, and then pointed it at my face.

  “How could you be such an asshole?” she hissed, stepping in even closer to me. I fell back a step. “You are a total pig. I thought you had changed. I thought your constant need to bring every woman you met home was over. I thought you had changed. So did Devon. You don’t deserve her. You never did.”

  A little voice in my head told me she was right. It was a voice that had whispering that truth to me since I left my penthouse the night before.

  But that didn’t matter.

  “I understand you’re her best friend,” I started, “but coming in here while I’m in the middle of an important meeting is not appropriate. This isn’t going to happen again.”

  “Oh, fuck off Ethan,” Heather said. “I wouldn’t have done this if you hadn’t hurt her. How could you do this to her?”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” I said, my own anger flaring up now, “and I can’t help it that she’s more in love with me than I am with her. I’m not going to string her along.”

  “That’s a pathetic excuse, and you know it.”

  “You can think what you want to think, Heather. It won’t change how I feel. This isn’t my fault,” I said, hoping that saying those last words out loud would somehow make them true.

  Heather rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. “You are impossible. I can’t believe you’re going to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to you and to Devon. You’re taking something away from her that she should have. And you’re selling yourself short. The two of you …” She paused and looked away from me. “You’re a fool, Ethan.”

  “You’re entitled to an opinion,” I said coldly.

  “What are you? A politician?” Heather demanded. “Too afraid to commit to the real words you should be saying? How about you’re sorry? You owe Devon at least that much. You don’t get to pack up and leave her alone at your place. She has no other home, Ethan, thanks to you. Not to mention, she’s pregnant. You broke her heart walking out on her like that.”

  I swallowed and looked at my feet. “I know I did.”

  “But you did it anyway?” Heather asked. All the anger was gone from her voice. Now she just sounded sad, disappointed, deflated.

  I nodded. “I had to.”

  “No, you didn’t. You just think you did. You can tell yourself whatever you want, but I know the truth. You love her. She loves you. The two of you make each other whole somehow. You’re scared,” she said, shaking her head as she stepped around me and made for the door. “You’re scared of what will happen if you let yourself care. That’s really sad, Ethan. Really sad. And Dev shouldn’t have to be the one to pay the price for your cold feet. Such a joke,” she added under her breath before wrenching the door open and leaving me reeling in the aftermath of her words.

  I knew she was right, and the truth of it all only made everything more confusing.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Devon

  I had been crying on and off for two full days. My chest was sore, my throat was swollen, my eyes were puffy, and just trying to eat food without being instantly sick was a brutal task. I knew I had to eat and keep the food down for the baby, but the heartbreak was literally making me physically ill.

  I had tried everything I could think of to distract myself. I started with reading books, but after reading the same line eleven times over without realizing it, I concluded that wasn’t a very good solution. So, I moved on to movies. It was nearly impossible to find a decent movie that didn’t remind me of Ethan in some way. I would see him in any man with brown eyes or a guy who rocked a suit. It was paralyzing.

  I tried cooking, but my feet were sore, and I didn’t have enough energy to make anything more intricate than a Kraft dinner.

  I sat in my room and tried organizing my makeup. That didn’t work either. Every lipstick I picked up reminded me of a night I’d worn it with Ethan.

  So now I was lying on my back on my bed, staring at the sheer white curtains draped over the pillars at each corner of the bed, wishing I wasn’t alone. I would have given anything to have Ethan’s company. I wished everything could go back to how it was. I wished he would come home from work, greet me with that devilishly handsome smile of his, and then put his hand on my belly to talk to the baby. Then, just maybe, he would plant a kiss on my lips, which would lead to more exciting adventures in his bedroom.

  The mere thought of it made my panties wet. I groaned and rolled over.

  I couldn’t believe how horny this pregnancy had made me. With Ethan around, I had always been able to satisfy my craving for sex. But now, there was no sex to be had. I was crippled by my need for it, so I opted for the next best thing. I could take care of myself. I used to do it all the time before I moved into Ethan’s home.

  I found my vibrator at the back of the drawer in my nightstand. I was relieved to find that it was still charged. I rolled back onto my back and shimmied my pants down. It was a struggle with my belly so round and full now, but after some wiggling, I managed to be free of them. I pushed my panties to the side and powered on the vibrator. Its familiar hum filled the air, and I held it just above my clit.

  When I touched it to myself, I was incredibly sensitive. I let out a startled little whimper before rolling the tip of the vibrator around the clit. I would have to ease my way into this one.

  As I teased myself, I let my mind wander to thoughts of Ethan. Even though I knew he was done with me, I couldn’t help but yearn for his touch.

  I imagined that he was there with me, and he was settled between my legs. If I looked down, I wouldn’t be able to see him past my belly, but he would be there, tongue darting between his lips to taste me as his fingers slipped inside me, curling and uncurling with expert precision until I came in one great rolling wave of delight.

  When I was done, he would flip me over, manhandling me like I weighed nothing. He would lift me up and position me on my hands and knees so that my spine was arched and my ass was up in the air for him. If I was lucky, he would indulge me in a little more foreplay before he fucked me.

  I brought the vibrator to my clit, gently gliding it over the most sensitive spot. My breath caught in my throat, and then I let out a content little sigh. I needed this. Amongst all the chaos and grief, I needed a moment where I could feel good.

  I focused my thoughts on what Ethan would do to me if I was on my hands and knees in front of him. He would probably lean over me, pull my hair to one shoulder to expose my neck, and nibble and kiss the soft skin there as his fingers played with my clit. When I was about to come, he would slip a finger inside me.

  His lips would crush against mine, and we would be locked in a passionate, raw kiss as his fingers fucked me. When it all became too intense, I would cry out into his mouth, and he would keep going until I came.

  My pussy wo
uld be soaking wet like it was now. I would be ready. Ethan would enter me, cock hard and aching.

  I bit my bottom lip. I adjusted to the next setting on my vibrator, and it began a pulsating rhythm that promised a body-shaking orgasm. With my free hand, I reached down, slipped a finger between my swollen folds, and began fucking myself while pretending it was Ethan’s dick.

  Behind my closed eyelids, I imagined him bucking against me. I could almost hear the slap of his balls against me. I could feel his hot breath on the nape of my neck.

  I moaned softly as I approached my climax. I was so close. Everything felt extremely tight. My whole body was preparing to let go.

  When it happened, I cried out, and the sound felt incredibly loud in the empty penthouse. I rolled my hips against the vibrator until I was done, and then I stayed where I was, basking in the very brief afterglow of my orgasm.

  Then the doorbell rang.

  I sat bolt upright, my pants still around my ankles, and sat there motionless as I waited for another ring like a well-trained bloodhound.

  The doorbell rang again.

  “Fuck,” I breathed, shimmying awkwardly to the edge of the bed and hanging my legs off the end to pull my pants back on. My panties became immediately soaked. I rushed out into the hall, and as I made my way to the front door, I wondered how bright my cheeks were. Was my hair a mess? Was it obvious what I had just been doing?