A Clandestine Corporate Affair (7 page)

“So, what do you think?” Nathan asked, stepping back to admire his work. “Is it straight?”

“It's perfect.” The tree was larger than she usually got, but she'd figured what the heck, it was only for a few weeks, and she knew Max would be so excited when he woke up and saw it in the morning. Tomorrow night, after the branches had time to settle, they would decorate it. Everything about this holiday season would be special because it was Max's first.

Nathan grabbed his hot chocolate from the credenza where he'd set it and sat down on the couch beside her, resting his arm across the cushion behind her head. And
he was sitting so that their thighs were nearly touching. What was this? A first date? Did he have to sit so close? There was a perfectly good chair across the room. Why didn't he sit there? Or even better, why didn't he leave? Would it be rude to ask him to go?

With the fireplace lit, and only the lamp by the couch on, there was an undeniable “date” vibe in the air. Or maybe she was mistaking intimate for cozy. Cozy and
platonic
.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, sounding surprised by the realization.

“Does that mean you're changing your opinion about the holidays?”

“Maybe. It's a start at least.”

“Well then, maybe I should let you help us decorate the tree tomorrow.”

Ugh! Did she really just say that? What was
wrong
with her? It was as if her brain was working independently from her mouth. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Nathan grinned. “I may just take you up on that.”

Of course he would. She was supposed to be avoiding him, not manufacturing family activities that Max would be too young to remember anyway. She was only making this harder on herself.

“What was it you disliked so much about Christmas anyway?” she asked him.

“Let's just say it was never what you would call a heartwarming family experience.”

“You know, in all the time I've known you, you never once talked about your mom and dad,” she said. “I take it there's a reason for that. I mean, if they were awesome parents I probably would have heard about it, right?”

“Probably,” he agreed. Then nothing.

If she wanted to know more, obviously she would have to drag it out of him. “So, are they still together?”

“Divorced.” Nathan leaned forward to set his cup down on the coffee table. “Why the sudden interest in my parents?”

She shrugged. “I don't know, I guess it would be nice to know about the family of the father of my baby. Especially if he's going to be spending time with them.”

“He won't be.”

“Why not?”

“My mother is an elitist snob and my father is an overbearing bully. I see her two or three times a year, and I haven't talked to my father in almost a decade.”

Her father would never be parent of the year, but she couldn't imagine him not being a part of her and Max's life.

“Besides,” Nathan added, “they're not ‘kid' people. Jordan and I were raised by the nanny.”

“I think if my mom had lived, my parents would still be together,” she said. “I remember them being really happy together.”

Her father had loved her mother so much, in fact, that he never got over losing her.

“I don't think mine were ever happy,” Nathan said.

“So why get married?”

“My mom was looking for a rich husband and my dad was old money. I was born seven months after the wedding.”

“You think she got pregnant on purpose.”

“According to my grandmother she did. As a kid you overhear things.”

She didn't even know how to respond to that. What a horrible way for Nathan to have to grow up, knowing he was conceived as a marriage trap.

Ana would make it a point to assure Max that even though his parents didn't stay together, he was wanted and loved dearly from the minute he was conceived. Which was exactly what Nathan's mother should have done, whether it was true or not.

Then she had a thought, one that actually turned her stomach. “This is why you thought you wouldn't be a good parent, isn't it?”

“I haven't had the best role models.”

He sure hadn't. And why was she was just hearing about this now? Talk about being self-absorbed. Why hadn't she asked about his family when they were dating? Why hadn't she tried to get to know him better?

She thought she loved Nathan, but the truth was, she hardly knew anything about him. Had she been so self-centered, so busy having “fun” that she hadn't even thought to ask? Or was she just too busy talking about herself?

No wonder Nathan had dumped her. If she were Nathan,
she
would have dumped her!

“I'm a terrible person,” she said.

He looked genuinely taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“Why didn't I ever ask you about your family before? Why didn't I know any of this?”

He laughed. “Ana, it's not a big deal. Honestly.”

“Yes, it is,” she said, swallowing back the lump that was filling her throat. “I feel awful. I remember talking about me all the time. You know practically everything about me. My life is a freaking open book! And here you had all this…baggage, and I was totally clueless. We could have talked about it.”

“Maybe I didn't want to talk about it.”

“Well of course you didn't. You're a
guy
. It was my responsibility to drag it out of you by force. I never even
asked. I didn't even try to get to know you better. I was a lousy girlfriend.”

“You were not a lousy girlfriend.”

“Technically I wasn't even your girlfriend.” She got up from the couch and grabbed their empty cocoa cups. “I was just some woman you had sex with who talked about herself constantly.”

She carried the cups to the kitchen and set them in the sink.

Nathan followed her. “You didn't talk about yourself
that
much. And besides,” he added, “it was really
great
sex.”

A
na swiveled to face Nathan, not sure if he was joking or serious, if she should laugh or punch him. And whatever his intention, it hurt.

“That's really all it was to you?” she asked. “Just great sex?”

Only after the words were out did she realize how small and vulnerable she sounded.
Way to go, Ana. Why not just blurt out how much you loved him, and that he broke your heart? Why not throw it all out on the line so you can look like an even bigger fool?

“What difference does it make?” he asked, his eyes dark. “You were only using me to defy your father.”

Ouch. She should have known that remark would come back to bite her.

“And for the record,” he said, stepping closer, trapping her against the edge of the counter, “it was not just about the sex. I cared about you.”

Yeah, right. “Dumping me was certainly an interesting way to show it.”

“I ended it
because
of how I felt for you.”

What?
“That makes
no
sense. If you care about someone, you don't break up with them. You don't treat them like they're the best thing in your life one day, then tell them it's over the next!”

“I know it doesn't make sense to you, but I did what I had to do. What was best for
you
.” For
her
? Was he joking? “How in the hell do you know what's best for me?”

“There are things about me, things you wouldn't understand.”

Just when she thought this couldn't get much worse, he had to lay the
it's not you it's me
speech on her. As if she hadn't heard that one a dozen times before. Well, if it wasn't her fault, why did she keep getting dumped? Why was she always the one with the broken heart?

“This is stupid. We covered all of this eighteen months ago. It's done.”

She shoved past him but he grabbed her arm.

“It's obviously not done.”

“It is for me,” she lied, and tried to tug her arm free.

“You weren't the only one hurt, you know.”

She made an indignant noise. “I'm sure you were devastated.”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Don't do that. You'll never know how hard it was leaving you. How many times I almost picked up the phone and called you.” He leaned closer, so his lips were just inches away. “How tough it is now, seeing you,
wanting
you so damned much and knowing I can't have you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He wasn't just telling her what she wanted to hear. He meant every word he'd said.
He still wanted her. And despite everything else that had happened between them, as much as she'd tried to fight it, to be smart about this, she wanted him, too. But she didn't tell him that. Instead she did something even worse. Something monumentally more stupid.

She pushed up on her toes and kissed him.

For one tense and terrifying instant she wasn't sure how he would react, if she was making a huge mistake. But Nathan's arms went around her, his hands tangling through her hair, and his tongue swept across her own in that lulling, bone-melting way of his.

Her knees went soft and her pulse skipped and everything in her screamed
yes!

He should be telling her that this would only complicate things, and the important thing right now was to keep it civilized, for Max's sake. He should be, but he wasn't.

He broke the kiss and pulled back to look at her, cradling her face in his hands, searching her eyes.

Her heart sank. “Having second thoughts already?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. Just savoring the moment.”

Because it would be their last. She knew it, and she could see it in his eyes. They would get this one night together, then things would have to go back to the way they were. They would have to go back to just being Max's parents. There was no other way. Not for him, anyway. It sucked, and it hurt—boy, did it hurt—but not enough to make her tell him no. She wanted this, probably more than she'd ever wanted anything.

“You're sure this is what you want?” he said, always the gentleman, always worried about her feelings, and her heart, even when he was breaking it. But this one was worth a little pain.

She stepped away from him, grabbed a quilt from the
back of the couch and spread it out on the rug in front of the fire. Nathan watched, his eyes dark, as she stripped down to her bra and panties then laid down on the blanket. He had this look, as though he wanted to devour her, and every part of her hummed in anticipation. Her skin heated and her pulse jumped.

He tugged his polo shirt up over his head, then shoved his jeans off and kicked them aside. He was perfect. Lean and strong and beautiful. The glow of the fire licked and danced across his skin as he got down and stretched out beside her. He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing at her.

“My body is a little different than the last time you saw it,” she said.

He touched her stomach, stroking it with the backs of his fingers, and the skin quivered under his touch. “Does that bother you?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It's just a fact.”

“Well,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the crest of her breast, just above the lace edge of her bra, “I think you're even sexier than you were before.”

As long as he kept touching her, she didn't care how she looked. He eased the cup of her bra aside, exposing her breast to the cool air, and her nipple pulled into a tight point. He teased it lightly with his tongue, then took it in his mouth and sucked. Ana moaned softly and closed her eyes. Nathan reached around to unfasten her bra, working the clasp with a quick flick of his fingers. The low growl of satisfaction as he pulled it off said he either didn't notice that her breasts weren't quite as firm as they had been before, or he simply didn't care.

For a while he seemed content to just touch and kiss and explore her, and oh, could the man do amazing things with his mouth. The problem was, he was only doing them
above the waist. And though God knows she loved kissing him, and putting her hands on him was like pure heaven, she was crawling out of her skin, she was so hot for him. But every time she tried to move things along, he would cut her off at the pass.

She enjoyed foreplay as much as the next woman, but even she had limits. But hadn't that always been his M.O.? For him, foreplay wasn't a means to an end. It was an art form. And sex had always been not only satisfying, but fun.

“You know you're driving me crazy,” she said.

His grin said that he knew exactly what he was doing. “There's no rush, right?”

“I wouldn't exactly call this
rushing,
Nathan.”

“Because I know the second I touch you, you're going to come.” As if to prove his point, he slid his hand down her stomach, dipping his fingers an inch or so under the waist of her panties. She bit her lip to keep from moaning, digging her nails into his shoulders, but his smug smile said she wasn't fooling him.

“Well what do you expect after
three hours
of foreplay?” she said.

He laughed. “It hasn't been three hours.”

It sure felt like it. He didn't seem to understand that most men pretty much grew bored with the foreplay after five minutes. Nathan, on the other hand, seemed to be going for some sort of world record.

“I'd just like to make this last,” he said.

“Did I mention that it's been
eighteen
months? Honestly, I think I've waited long enough.”

His eyes locked on hers, and he slid his hand inside her panties again. The second his fingers dipped into her slippery heat she was out on the ledge and ready to fall over. She just needed one little push….

“Not yet,” Nathan whispered, pulling his hand away. She groaned in protest. He sat up and tugged her panties off, and she nearly sobbed, she was so ready. Pushing her thighs apart, he knelt between them. He wrapped his hands around her ankles and slowly slid them upward, dipping in to caress the backs of her knees, then higher still, easing her thighs wider. With the pads of his thumbs he grazed the crease where her thigh met her body, then he dipped inward…

She was so close…falling over…

He pressed her legs apart, lowered his head…she felt his warm breath…the wet heat of his tongue…

Her body locked in a pleasure so intense, so beautiful and perfect that a sob bubbled up from her throat. Only when she saw Nathan gazing down at her, brow furrowed with worry, did she realize that tears were leaking from her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No, it was
perfect
.”

“Then what's wrong?”

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “Nothing. I think it was just really intense. Maybe because it's been so long. Like a huge emotional release, or something.”

He didn't look as though he believed her. “Maybe we should stop.”

He was going to back out now?
Seriously?
“I don't
want
to stop. I'm fine.”

He sat back on his heels. “You don't look fine.”

She pushed herself up, leveled her eyes on him, so he would know she was serious. “Let's put it this way. If you don't make love to me right now, I'll have to hurt you.”

 

Nathan would have had to be a total moron not to realize that Ana was feeling emotional and vulnerable. She was
crying, for God's sake. They'd had some pretty intense sex in the past and she'd never burst into tears. And maybe it meant he was a heartless bastard, but he was having a tough time telling her no. Or maybe it was just really hard to think straight with Ana sliding her hand inside his boxers.

“I want you, Nathan,” Ana whispered, rising up on her knees beside him, and when she kissed him, she tasted salty, like tears. Despite that, he didn't try to stop her when she pushed him back onto the blanket. Maybe it was wrong, but for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like he had to be the good guy. The responsible, respectable, never-let-your-emotions-get-away-from-you guy. Being with Ana made him want to
feel
.

It always had.

Which gave this the potential not only to become very complicated, but dangerous, too. Because lately, the self-imposed numbness just wasn't cutting it. And when Ana grasped his erection, slowly stroking him, he sure as hell didn't feel numb. Words could not adequately describe how damned fantastic it felt.

“So, what's it going to be?” she said, looking anything but vulnerable. “Sex, or potential physical trauma?”

Concise and to the point. He'd always liked that about her. When it came to feeling things, Ana had never been one to hold back. She hadn't been afraid to put herself out there. He wouldn't deny that at times it had scared the hell out of him. But at least with her he always knew where he stood. She didn't manipulate or play games. And only because she seemed to know exactly what she wanted now would he let this happen.

He reached over and tugged his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, fishing out a condom. She snatched it away from him and tore it open.

“You in a hurry?” he asked.

“What part of ‘I haven't had sex in eighteen months' didn't you get?”

She might have been surprised to learn that since her, there had been only one other woman for him. And that was over a year ago. A rebound relationship that had been brief and, quite frankly, not very exciting. Of course, compared to Ana, not many women were. That used to be the kind of woman he preferred. Someone who wouldn't excite him or challenge him. But being with Ana had changed him. She'd more or less ruined him for other women. In and out of the bedroom.

“That doesn't mean we can't take our time,” he said.

She threw a leg over his thighs and straddled him, and he knew that there was no use in arguing. He could see things hadn't changed. He had a short window of time in which she let him have control—which was nowhere
near
three hours—and then she angled for the dominant position. He knew that when she reached that point, there was no reasoning with her.

She pulled the condom from the wrapper and he braced himself because he knew exactly what was coming next. She'd done it dozens of times before.

With a saucy smile she said, “Goes on better damp,” then she leaned down and took him in her mouth. He groaned and fisted the blanket as she used her tongue to wet him from tip to base.

If she kept that up, this would be over in ten seconds.

She sat back on her heels, wearing a smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing to him, and it was payback time. She rolled the condom on like a pro, then centered herself over him, flush with anticipation. Her body was a little rounder than before, her breasts fuller and
her hips softer, and he didn't think he'd ever seen anything so beautiful.

“Ready?” she asked.

As if he had a choice.

She braced her hands on his chest and sank down slowly, inch by excruciating inch. He hissed out a breath as her hot, slippery walls closed in around him. Though he would have considered the opposite to be true, he could swear she was even tighter than she'd been before having Max. Maintaining even a shred of control was going to be close to impossible. Ironic, considering the way he'd just been teasing her.

“Oh, Nathan,” she moaned, eyes closed, slowly riding him. “You wouldn't believe how amazing this feels.”

He wanted to tell her that actually yes, he would, but he was barely hanging on. If he so much as uttered a sound he was going to lose it. And he'd be damned if he was going to let himself climax first. That just wasn't the way he did things. He needed to take the upper hand before he completely lost control.

Nathan flipped Ana over. She let out a gasp of surprise as her back hit the floor. She opened her mouth to protest, but as he plunged himself deep inside of her, a moan of pleasure emerged instead. Arching into his thrust, her legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his shoulder. He barely had a chance to establish a rhythm before her body started to quake, clamping around him like a vise, and he couldn't have held back if his life depended on it. In that instant time ground to a screeching halt and there was nothing but pleasure.