“Maybe we should wait until we’re home.”
“Oh hell no!” Caleb and Luke yell out together. There are moans and boos, and she winces and looks back up at me, biting her lower lip.
“Hey.” I cup her face in my hands and smile down at this amazing woman that I’m lucky enough to call mine. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’ll love it.”
She swallows hard and whispers so low I can barely hear it, “I hope so.”
She hands me the box and, because I’m a smart-ass, I start to slowly unwrap it the way she always does, and she giggles.
“Unless you want to die, speed it up, brother,” Caleb growls.
I make quick work of the bow and paper and open the lid.
And my world stops.
It’s a black-and-white photo of Sophie. She’s sitting up on a hardwood floor with Christmas lights all around her. She has a Santa hat on that’s just a little too big. Her big eyes are laughing happily at the camera. But propped up next to her is a piece of paper, and on it are the words:
I’m going to be a big sister. Merry Christmas!
My eyes shoot to Stacy’s, and she’s got tears flowing down her cheeks.
“What?” I breathe.
She just nods.
I shake my head and look at the photo again and feel my own eyes fill. We’re having another baby? Now?
But how?
“But…”
“I know, it’s soon, but the doctor confirmed it the other day.”
“Is this…?” I don’t even have to finish my question before she’s nodding frantically.
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.” I look up at our family, all staring at us with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. Brynna is crying—of course she already knew—and Natalie is rubbing her own belly serenely. “We’re having another baby!”
“Holy shit, I’m getting the beer!” Will runs for the kitchen for the celebratory beer, and everyone else rushes around us, pulling us into hugs, slapping me on the back. It’s a blur of smiles and tears and hands and hugs.
Finally, my wife is back in my arms, and I’m kissing her with all I have. Jules doesn’t even dare say anything about this public display of affection.
I pull back and wipe her tears off her cheeks with my thumbs. My God, after all these years of praying and hoping and trying so fucking hard to add to our family, it’s finally happening.
“I love you,” she whispers in her sweet, soft voice.
I bury my face in her neck, breathe in her sweet Stacy scent and murmur, “God, I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”
THE END
Fight With Me
Book Two in the With Me In Seattle Series
By
Kristen Proby
FIGHT WITH ME
Book Two in the With Me In Seattle Series
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2013 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
Dedication
For Tanya. Your support and friendship mean more to me than you will ever know. I love you, bff.
Prologue
Summer
My back hits the wall with a light thud, and Nate’s face is buried in my throat, his hands on my ass, skirt hiked up around my waist, pulling me up so he can cradle his still-covered erection in the apex of my thighs. I pull the hair tie out of his thick, inky-black hair and run my hands through it, holding on to him. I’ve never seen his hair down before. He always ties it back at the nape of his neck, and it’s so sexy. It falls just above his shoulders, framing that impossibly handsome face of his that makes my insides quiver and my mouth go dry every time he looks at me.
But he’s never looked at me the way he is right now, in the semidark hallway in the middle of his apartment, just outside his bedroom. His gray eyes are burning as he rocks his pelvis against mine.
“Do you know how beautiful you are, Julianne?” he murmurs. “I need you naked, now.”
He picks me up, hands still braced on my ass, and I wrap myself around him. He carries me into his bedroom, and I’m suddenly standing before him, and we are a tangle of arms and greedy hands, pulling and grasping clothes, flinging them haphazardly about the room. He doesn’t turn the lights on, so I can’t see him anymore, but oh, those hands. I don’t know how many times I’ve sat in a meeting, watching these beautiful, large hands, and now they’re on me.
Everywhere.
His mouth is on mine, his hands in my blond hair, and he’s kissing me with a fervor that makes my knees weak. He’s a really good kisser. Excellent.
Fucking amazing.
He picks me up again, cradling me in his arms this time and lays me down on the bed. The sheets are soft and cool against my naked backside, and I wish I could see him in all his naked glory. I’ve been daydreaming about a naked Nate since he became my boss almost a year ago. I have a feeling there is a fine, fine body lurking under all those expertly tailored business suits.
Nate follows me onto the bed, and I run my hands up his stomach, over his chest, and up to his shoulders.
Holy fuck, he’s built, and his skin is warm and smooth and…wow. His hands are cradling my face, kissing me tenderly now, biting and nibbling my lips, and then he leans on one elbow at the side of my head and sends his other hand down my neck, over my breast, teasing the taut nipple with his fingers, and farther south, slowly finding his target.
“Oh God.” My body bows off the soft sheets as he slips two fingers into my pussy, and his thumb gently circles my clitoris.
“Oh, you are so wet. And so fucking tight. Jesus, how long has it been for you, honey?”
Really? He wants to know this now?
“Longer than I care to think about,” I respond and lift my hips up into his hand. Oh God, what this man can do with his hands!
“Shit, I want you. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.” His lips find mine, demanding and probing, licking and sucking, his tongue mirroring what his delicious fingers are doing down south, and I’m completely swept away. I’ve wanted him just as long.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I whisper unconvincingly.
“Why not?” he whispers back.
“Because… Oh God, yes, right there.” My hips are circling, and I skim my hands down to his ass. His hard, muscular, oh-so-sexy ass.
“You were saying?” he whispers, nibbling down my neck.
“We could both be fired. No-frat policy.”
“I don’t give a fuck about anyone’s policy right now.” His lips close over my nipple, and I lose all conscious thought. Nate licks and sucks his way down my belly, paying close attention to my navel, before heading farther south, kissing my freshly waxed—thank God!—pubis and finally planting that tongue right there.
“Fuck!” My hips buck up off the bed, and I feel him grin before he pulls his fingers out of me, spreads my thighs wider and kisses me, deeply, his tongue pushing and swirling through my folds and inside me. I push my fingers into that glorious thick hair and hang on, and when I think I just can’t take any more, he licks up to my clit and pushes a finger inside me, making a come here motion, and I come undone, shuddering and digging my heels into the mattress, pushing my pussy against Nate’s skilled mouth.
As I surface back to Planet Earth, I hear Nate rip open a foil packet, and he is kissing his way back up my body, sucking on each nipple, and then kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips, and I moan, wrap
ping my legs around his hips, lifting my pelvis, ready for him to fill me, but he doesn’t, he’s just braced on his hands above me, his cock cradled between my thighs. His breathing is ragged, and I wish with all my might that the lights were on so I could see his gray eyes.
“Nate, I want you.”
“I know.”
“Now, damn it.”
“You are so fucking hot,” he whispers and lowers himself to brush his lips on my forehead.
“Inside me.” I reach between us and grab his erection. Holy hell, he’s hung. He’s hard and smooth, and he hasn’t rolled the condom on yet. I pull up the length of him, to the tip, and… “Holy shit, what is that?”
He chuckles and leans down to gently kiss me. “It’s an apa,” he whispers.
There is a metal bar with two small balls, one at the top and one on the underside, in the end of his penis, and I’m completely thrown. Nate, my suit-wearing, conservative-looking-except-for-the-long-hair-thing boss, has his penis pierced?
“A what-a?” My fingers trace it, and then I run my forefinger around the tip of him, and he sucks in a breath through his teeth.
“An apadravya. Fuck, honey.”
“Why would you get this?” I ask, unexpectedly turned on and curious. I wish I could see it!
“You’re about to find out.” I hear the smile in his voice and then feel him reach between us and roll the condom down his impressive length. He kisses me again, more urgently, and buries his hands in my blond hair. I raise my hips and feel the tip—and those metal balls—at my entrance, and he slowly, oh so slowly, eases inside me.
Oh. My. God.
I can feel the metal rub against the walls of my vagina, all the way deep inside me, and he stops, buried in me, his mouth continuing to move over my own.
“Fuck, I love how tight you are.” His words make me squeeze him and hold him, my legs wrapped around his lean hips, hands in that glorious hair.
He starts to move his hips, sliding in and out of me, and the sensation is unlike any I’ve ever known. I feel the metal, his impressive cock, his mouth doing crazy things to mine, and I feel my body quicken as a thin coat of sweat covers me. He picks up the pace and rotates his hips, just enough to make me completely lose my mind.
“Come on, honey, let go.” And I do, violently. I cry out as Nate pushes into me, harder, once and twice, and then succumbs to his own release.
“Oh fuck!”
***
I just fucked my boss.
Nate pulls out of me and removes the condom, then tosses it on the floor beside the bed.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
No. “Yes.”
“Do you need anything?” He runs his fingers down my cheek, and I again wish that the lights were on, yet I don’t because I’m now feeling shy, and I never feel shy. His voice is distant, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with me now, and to be honest, I don’t know what to do with me either.
“No, thank you.”
Oh God, what did I just do? I just had to have the most mind-blowingly fantastic sex of my life with the one man in the world I just can’t have. When he asked me to join him for a drink here at his place after dinner out with colleagues, I should have said no, but I couldn’t. I’ve wanted to get my hands on him from day one, but our company has a very strict no-fraternization policy, and I’ve had a long-standing policy of my own: no fucking co-workers.
And yet, here I am, blissfully sated, and not just a little ashamed, in my sexy boss’s bed in his swanky thirtieth-floor apartment.
Fuck.
“Do you want me to turn the lights on?” Nate asks and starts to move away from me, but I put my hand out, gripping his arm to stop him.
“No, it’s fine.”
“You don’t sound like yourself. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Tired, probably too much wine.” Those two glasses that I sipped while drinking in Nate’s deliciousness have definitely not affected my head, but it’s the only excuse I have. We’re acting weird with each other now, and I hate it. I don’t know what I expected. I don’t know him that well. He’s always been professional and polite, and until tonight I had no idea that he found me the least bit attractive.
He’s got a very convincing poker face.
Nate kisses my forehead and pulls the covers over us, then turns me away from him and curls up behind me.
“Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Talk? Talk about what?
I don’t answer, I just lie still and wait until his breathing evens out, then wait another ten minutes to make sure he’s asleep. I carefully slip out from under his heavy arm—Geez, he’s muscular! Those suits he wears are very deceiving. I fumble my way to the wall, praying I don’t trip and fall on my ass, waking him up, and follow it to the doorway. Turning on the hall light, I gather my clothes quickly and dress, grab my purse from Nate’s large, professionally decorated, gorgeous living room, and leave.
I call a cab from the lobby of the prestigious downtown Seattle condo building and wait for my ride back to the parking garage of our office building so I can get my own car.
When I finally get home to the house I share on Alki Beach with my best friend, Natalie, I see a strange Lexus convertible in the driveway and lights coming from the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Nat?”
“I’m in the kitchen!”
“Do you have company?” I am so not in the mood to meet Nat’s new friend.
“Yeah,” she calls back.
“Okay, going to bed. See you tomorrow.” I climb the stairs to my bedroom, closing the door behind me, and take a long, hot shower. My skin is still sensitive from my romp in Nate’s bed, and his scent clings to me, all clean and musky and sexy, and I can’t help but regret, just a little, leaving. Perhaps there could have been more fun during the night before the harsh light of day settled in.
And along with it, The Talk.
No, thank you.
I really don’t need to have Nate spell out all the reasons why this was a one-night indiscretion. I certainly don’t think I can handle the awkwardness of the morning after. It’s better to just pretend like it never happened and get back to business as usual.
I pull on pink panties and a white cami and dig my phone out of my purse on my way to bed. There are no messages or texts.
He’s probably as relieved I left as I am.
I lie awake all night, trying to figure out what I’m going to say when I call in sick to work tomorrow.
Chapter One
Late Spring
I love my job. I love my job.
God, sometimes, I hate my job. I read the terse e-mail from my boss, Nathan McKenna, once again and swallow hard.
Friday, April 26, 2013 13:56
From: Nathan McKenna
To: Julianne Montgomery
Subject: Working Late
Julianne,
I need you to work late with me tonight, possibly into the weekend. Please gather all the files on the Radcliffe account and meet me in my office at 6 p.m.
Nate
Damn it! For eight long months I’ve managed to steer clear of my boss, and I know I’ve been incredibly lucky that I haven’t had to work alone with him after-hours, but we recently lost the other junior partner in our department, and that leaves just me and Nate.
Large, beastly butterflies have taken up residence in my stomach.
Since that one night last summer, Nate and I have maintained a level of professionalism that I’m very proud of, despite the fact that whenever I see him I feel a pull of electricity that makes my thighs clench. I did invite him to double-date with Nat and I for one of Nat’s husband’s movie premieres, but I managed to keep that night completely platonic.
It almost killed me.
Since then, it’s been for the greater good of keeping a job that I enjoy that I steer clear of Mr. Sex-on-Legs.
Not that he’s been clamoring to get me back into bed. The morning after The
Best Sex in the History of Mankind, after I snuck out of his bed, he had been pissed. He’d called and texted, wanting to know what the hell happened, and I’d avoided him like the plague for a good two weeks, telecommuting from home and taking vacation time.
Then, he just stopped. All personal communication halted, and when we are together during business hours, he is the epitome of cool professionalism.
There are days that it pisses me the hell off.
And now, because the moron who had been in our department couldn’t take the demanding schedule of our job and quit, I have to work alone with Nate.
Fuck.
I sit back in my chair and look at the time. Five thirty. I pull my glasses off and toss them on my desk and hang my head in my hands. So much for spending the weekend with a pint of ice cream and a good book.
I can do this. Pull it together, Montgomery. I’ve posed naked in magazines. I’ve had dinner with gazillionaires and hung out with movie stars. I have four older brothers who tease me incessantly and taught me how to kick ass.
I can handle the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life for a few hours without ripping my clothes off and having my wicked way with him.
I think.
Probably.
I pull myself together, check that all my calls and e-mails are set to forward to my iPhone, and go to the bathroom to prepare myself for this evening.
I’m happy with what I see in the mirror. My long, light-blond hair is still holding the loose curls I rolled into it this morning. My makeup is subtle and professional, setting off my blue eyes. I smooth on a fresh coat of nude lip gloss, straighten my simple cranberry-colored dress and skim my eyes over my slender figure. I was blessed with excellent genetics. I’m not as sexily curved as Natalie, but I was blessed with decent boobs, a perky ass, and a figure that got me onto the pages of Playboy magazine. Three times. I work out hard to maintain my shape.
Content with my reflection, I walk briskly in my black Louboutins to my office, gather the files Nate requested, along with my phone, and walk down the corridor to his office. His personal assistant, Mrs. Glover, is sitting at her desk. She’s an older woman with gray hair and shrewd brown eyes. Her smile is deceiving. She scares the hell out of me with her sharp efficiency and her crazy ability to anticipate Nate’s every move.