The Baby Race Read online

  I grin at her. “Guilty as charged.” I look her up and down. “Nice towel.”

  She’s wrapped in a pale blue towel that’s decorated with bright yellow ducks. Shampoo bubbles cling to her soaking wet hair and shoulders. The towel is large enough to cover all of her interesting parts, but short enough to show an impressive amount of sleek, damp thigh and the curve of her breasts. The sight causes my cock to swell as I wonder what she’d do if I slipped a finger between her wet skin and the towel and gave a tug. Would she shriek and pull away – or would she let it go and sashay closer?

  Caitlin steps back, away from the door, before I have a chance to find out. “What are you doing here?” She backs up another step, leaving wet footprints on the dark blue carpet as she blinks owlishly at me.

  I let myself into her apartment and close the door behind me. Tina strikes me as the kind of girl who would huddle near the foot of the stairs, trying to catch interesting bits of conversation. The last thing I want is for her to overhear this.

  “I have some papers for you to look over.” I slip a hand inside my jacket, remove the thick white envelope and try to hand it to Caitlin.

  She looks at it as warily as if I’m holding a live rattlesnake instead of an envelope. “What is it?”

  “A pre-nup.”

  Her brows shoot toward her hairline. “What?”

  “I had my lawyer draw up a pre-nup just in case you agree to go along with my scheme and have my baby so that I can have the controlling share in Caldwell Industries.”

  Caitlin shakes her head, the motion causing some of the suds to slide down her hair, over the swell of her breast, and to catch on the edge of the towel. “I didn’t agree to anything. We never even discussed it last night. We were too busy …” Her words trail off, and her face turns bright red.

  I stare at the suds and decide that we’ve talked enough. I push my jacket off, barely noticing as it falls to the floor, and close in on Caitlin. Startled, she squeaks wordlessly as I wrap my fingers around her elbow.

  “What are you doing?” she says, her voice just a little breathless.

  I turn her around, nudging her toward the door, where steam is billowing out. “Making sure you get back into the shower so you can rinse your hair before your hot water heater runs dry.”

  14

  Jeremy

  I swear, Caitlin was crafted in the same fantastical dimension that birthed the sirens that caused sailors to crash their ships on dangerous reefs. Nothing else can explain how, despite my best intentions, the moment I see her, the second I breathe in the unique scent of shampoo and greenery that I already associate with her, I can’t think about anything other than getting my hands on her sleek body.

  I nudge her into the bathroom, crowding in close to her until she’s pinned between me and the counter. She tilts her head back, her beautiful green eyes so huge, they seem to take up her entire face as she reads my expression.

  Her lips part in silent invitation. Her long body trembles against mine.

  I bury a finger in the crease created by her breasts, hooking it on the edge of her towel. She gasps as it slides down her body and falls in a crumpled pile around her ankles. Her hands come up, clutching at the front of my shirt, her fingers working at the buttons, loosening them as I fist my hand in her hair, holding her in place and take her mouth in a hot kiss that has the blood roaring in my ears.

  I might have started this scene, but she’s already caught up. Sexy sounds emanate from the back of her throat as her tongue slides against mine, the sensation causing my thoughts to scatter like dust in the wind. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this, for Caitlin, my entire life.

  She frees the final button on my shirt and pushes at the expensive material, growling against my mouth when my tie gets in her way.

  Together we reach for it, our fingers brushing against one another, tangling, stroking, as we struggle to loosen the knot. It seems to take forever before it falls away, landing a few inches from Caitlin’s towel. My shirt, pants, and briefs quickly cover it.

  Hands firmly on Caitlin’s hips, I pivot her. My mouth frantic on hers, I walk her backward into the shower, guiding her under the spray.

  The hot water streams down on us as my hands skim down her body and settle between her thighs. She gasps, her back arching as I sink two fingers deep into her.

  “Jeremy,” she groans and bites down on my shoulder as I pull them away before thrusting them deep and hard into her. I repeat the motion over and over again, loving the way her pussy walls contract and strain against the intrusion, adoring the sexy sounds she makes in the back of her throat as her body begs me to continue.

  “I love how hungry you are for me.” I run my face against the side of her throat, nipping at the skin before using my tongue to soothe the spot. “How the simplest touch turns you on. I love knowing that I’m the only man that’s ever seen you this way.”

  And the only one who ever will. The thought is so surprising, so possessive, so completely out of character for me, I nearly forget what I’m doing.

  As if sensing my distraction, Caitlin’s hands dance down my body, gliding over my abdominal muscles before slipping even lower. I go rigid, not daring to move, not even daring to breathe, as her fingertips slide closer and closer to my cock. I’m already harder than I’ve ever been in my life, and am amazed when my cock swells even more in anticipation of Caitlin’s fingers closing around it.

  I’m not sure I’ll survive her touch, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting it.

  The pad of her thumb brushes close to the base, hitting a sensitive patch of nerves that sends white-hot shockwaves ripping through me. I sag against her, breathing raggedly, and bury my face in her chest, barely noticing the hot water beating down on my face as I turn my attention to her breasts, taking one diamond hard nipple in my mouth and sucking hard. Caitlin leans into me as my tongue swirls around the peak. Her breath comes hard and fast.

  Still her hand lingers near my cock, temptingly close to it but not quite touching. Probably for the best. I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life; her touch will send me over the edge, and that’s not what I want, not now. When I go, I want to take her with me.

  I reach down, braceleting my hand around her wrist, pulling her hand away from my body and moving it upward until it’s wrapped around my neck.

  She shifts her head back, and her eyes clash with mine. Questions swirl in the green depths.

  “Did I …” she starts, her voice so hesitant, so unsure, it nearly breaks my heart.

  Wanting, needing, to reassure her, I cover her mouth in a kiss so hard and so hot, I’m certain she feels it all the way to her toes.

  I cup the back of her left thigh, guiding her leg up until it’s hooked around my hip. My cock strains, desperate for the feel of her sweet pussy surrounding it.

  “I need to come inside of you,” I say against her mouth, stealing a kiss between each word.

  She doesn’t respond; she doesn’t have to. The way her body is undulating around me is enough.

  I push against her, bracing her back against the slick shower wall before sliding one hand between us. My thumb finds her clit, rubbing slowly against it as the head of my cock unerringly finds and parts her folds.

  She tenses and I hurry to reassure her. “Just relax,” I murmur against her wet, heated skin. “Just relax and let me take care of everything.”

  Her nails dig deep crescents into the back of my neck as she squirms against me, the movement causing bolts of white-hot lightning to flash behind my eyelids. My cock jumps, straining to go deeper into her channel.

  “Easy.” My thumb presses down on her clit, the action causing her pussy to spasm around my cock. I need to slow down or else I’m going to come too soon and leave her hanging, which is the last thing I want to do.

  Bit by bit, she relaxes against me, her body adjusting to the intrusion. I take advantage of the situation and slam into her, my first thrust taking me all the way to the hilt.
Her eyes widen and her heel digs into my ass, trying to hold me in place, even as I retreat. I arch against her and drive into her a second time, loving the way her eyes glaze with passion.

  If there’s a heaven on earth, this is it, I think as her inner walls clamp down on my cock, her sweet heat enveloping me.

  Pressure builds in my balls, demanding release. I won’t be able to hold back much longer, but I’m determined to make sure that Caitlin is right there with me, that when we come it’s together.

  I cup the back of her thigh, shifting her leg just enough that I can change the angle of my thrusts. The change is small but it’s enough that the tip of my cock slides against Caitlin’s G-spot. The unexpected touch on that sensitive bundle of nerves causes her legs to tighten against me.

  “Jeremy.” She screams my name and bucks in my arms. Her head whips back and forth. Her wet hair sticks to the shower wall as her body tightens, vice-like, against my cock, the feeling so good my eyes cross.

  It’s all I can take. I throw my head back and roar out her name as I shoot a hot, thick stream of cum into her depths.

  All of the strength goes out of my body. My knees buckle and I slowly collapse onto the shower floor. My arms remain tight against Caitlin, bringing her down with me, holding her close against my chest, murmuring meaningless words against her hair. Her body bucks and shakes around me, her pussy continuing to convulse around my cock as she rides out the tail end of her orgasm.

  15

  Caitlin

  “Add a little more baby’s breath to the right side.” I watch as Jeremy inserts the flowers into the cheap plastic vase. “Gently now, you don’t want to damage the stems.”

  Jeremy follows my advice and slides the baby’s breath into the vase with as much care as he would use if he was handling the Crown Jewels.

  I grin as I watch him. Never in a million years would I have guessed that I’d have Jeremy Caldwell, one of the richest and most important businessmen in the country, in my workroom putting together budget flower arrangements. And the fact that he is doing so in damp, wrinkled clothing that was scooped up off my bathroom floor after a bout of mind-blowing shower sex is icing on the cake.

  He looks up, meeting my eyes. “How’d I do?”

  “Marvelous.” And he has. It is a simple arrangement, just a few pink and red carnations, some baby’s breath, and a single azalea. “They’ll assume I did it. Now, can you repeat the process?”

  “Can I repeat the process?” He reaches for another cheap vase. “I’m practically a pro.”

  I pass him two carnations, one a light red, the other pink. He carefully slides the long stems into the vase. “I’m not sure I’d go that far, but you do seem to have a knack. Maybe when you retire from Caldwell Industries, you can take up flower arranging.”

  “Might be an interesting way to supplement my pension.” He tucks the pretty azalea between the large carnations. “Why these flowers?”

  “Baby’s breath because it’s pretty and makes everything look nicer. Azaleas for love that never fades. Light red carnations for admiration and respect. Pink carnations—” I brush my fingers over one of the pale pink blooms “—to represent the unflagging love a mother has for her child.”

  “What are these for, anyway?”

  “A dinner at a local daycare center that caters to disabled children.” I take the vase from him and carry it, and the first one he put together, to the large refrigerator, where they’ll keep nicely until it’s time to run them to the center. “Every few months, they like to put together a big event that’s designed to make the kids and parents feel good about themselves. Tonight is one of those events.”

  “And they need flowers?” Jeremy starts putting together a third vase.

  I slant him a quelling glance. “Everyone needs flowers. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t have a job.”

  “Good point. So this daycare center hires you to put together some arrangements?”

  “Not exactly.” I fetch some more azaleas and carry them to the long table where he’s working. “I donate arrangements whenever they have an event.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “When I was growing up, my best friend had an older brother who attended this same place, so I got to see how hard they work and what a positive impact they have on both the kids’ and parents’ lives. Even though I was just a kid at the time, I was impressed. One of the only other career paths I considered was becoming a specialist, probably a speech therapist, just so I could work there and make the world a better place.”

  Jeremy stares at me. The light in his beautiful mis-matched eyes, along with the quality of his expression, causes nerves to dance across my belly. I look away and lightly touch one of the carnations. “The truth is that I feel silly about not following that career path. Designing flowers seems so … selfish and shallow in comparison to the work the therapists do there. Giving away a few cheap flower arrangements is my desperate attempt to assuage some of my guilt.”

  Jeremy’s hands still. The air in the room suddenly thickens. Tension and something else crackles between us. Unable to look at Jeremy and desperately needing to do something with my hands, I grab a vase and start inserting flowers, treating them with far less care than they deserve.

  The sole of a shoe scrapes against the floor as Jeremy steps away from his work station. Even though I refuse to lift my eyes, I sense him coming toward me, feel the weight of his stare. The air practically bursts into flame between us. My hands shake, though I don’t know why.

  “Caitlin.” Jeremy stops, and I feel his body heat meshing with mine. He reaches over, hooking a finger under my chin and applying pressure until I have no choice but to look at him.

  “Caitlin,” he repeats, his voice nothing more than an undertone that sends warm shivers up and down my spine. The pad of his thumb caresses my cheek. “You are, without a doubt, one of the kindest, sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

  He leans close, bushing a butterfly kiss across my lips. There’s no passion, just admiration in the kiss, and still, my toes curl.

  “Because I make up some flowers for the disabled daycare?” I should pull away, put some distance between us, but I can’t. There’s something about Jeremy that holds me in thrall.

  “Because you arrange flowers for the disabled,” Jeremy breathes, “which you do for free even though you need money.”

  “It’s a tax write-off,” I point out.

  “No.” Another feather-light kiss that’s as delicious and addictive as chocolate kisses. “If you were only interested in that, you’d write a check, like all other business owners. You go the extra mile; you create something. Something that makes the world a better place. There aren’t many that will do that. Trust me, I know. You’re an incredibly rare and remarkable person.”

  Oddly uncomfortable with the brilliant way he’s painting me, like I’m on par with Mother Teresa, I open my mouth, prepared to argue with him, but before I can, his fingers slide under the bottom of the sweatshirt I’m wearing and all rational thought flies out the window.

  Without any conscious cues from me, my own hands slide up his chest, and start working with the buttons on his shirt.

  Is it always this way? I wonder. Will it always be this way? One touch—hell, one look from him and the only thing I’ll be able to think about is how fast I can get his clothes off.

  “I want you, Caitlin,” he whispers against my mouth. “The more I have you, the more I learn about you, the more addicted to you I become.”

  His words send a thrill ricocheting through me. They bolster my confidence. Make me bolder than I ever imagined I could possibly be.

  My hands are a blur of action pulling at his shirt, clawing at his pants, until he’s standing in all his naked glory before me. This is the first time I’ve really looked at him, I realize.

  He doesn’t move, simply watches me with his beautiful, unusual eyes, as I drink in the sight of him. “Enjoying the view?” he murmurs, his tone mild.

  �
�Mmm,” I purr. “Very much so.”

  Just the sight of him standing bare-ass naked in my workroom makes my mouth water. He’s every bit as well built, as gorgeous as the male models who parade around in sexy underwear, maybe even more stunning.

  He’s lean, more of a runner’s body than a weight lifter’s, but all of his muscles are well defined. My palms itch to run along his body, slowly exploring each taut rise and fall of muscle, stroking it over and over again until the feel is committed to memory.

  My gaze slides lower and lands on a small, puckered scar on the right side of his abdomen. I reach out and lightly trace it. “What happened?”

  Jeremy draws in a sudden deep breath and his skin jumps beneath my touch. A hot thrill bolts through me. I love knowing that my touch impacts him almost as much as his touch leaves me completely undone.

  He covers my hand with his, holding it in place, as if savoring the feel of my skin against his. “Back when I was a vet student, one of the clients brought in a pet monkey for treatment. It decided it didn’t like me and managed to get its little paws on a pencil and stabbed me.”

  “Ouch.” I drop to my knees and move my hand so I can place a light kiss on the scar.

  “That wasn’t quite the word I used at the time.” Jeremy’s voice is strained. His hands ball into tight fists. “Caitlin, having you there … It’s almost too much. You’re too-”

  While I’m aware that Jeremy is saying something, I don’t hear the words. I’m too focused on his cock, which is now at eye level with me.

  I’ve never really given much thought to men’s cocks before. Whether it’s looking at art or watching dirty movies, I’ve always been more turned on by tight abs and a toned ass than the cock. But Jeremy’s is different. His is truly a thing of beauty. Already swollen to full size, it juts away from his body, long and proud.

  Curious, I reach out, doing the one thing I didn’t have the courage to do while we were in the shower. I touch his cock. It bucks against my fingertips. I feel the blood pounding through the delicate network of veins hidden just below the skin.