Authors: Angie Daniels
Suddenly, Bianca felt herself being swung up into his arms and placed on his lap as he continued to kiss her.
His hand dipped between her thighs, beneath her knit dress.
Instinctively, she sucked in a gulp of air, waiting for the heat of his hand against her most intimate place. Sanity was long forgotten. Her traitorous body had taken over. With his fingers, he slipped past her panties and parted the lips of her sex, finding wetness waiting for him. She sucked in a breath. Oh, this is what she needed. He began to torture her with slow gentle strokes that made her body jerk. His tongue continued to move in and out of her mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers. She grabbed on to his arm and held on for dear life. Soon she was whimpering and she cried out.
“I think you like it,” he whispered, his lips closed to her ear.
“No…yes,” she whispered, her words broken, incoherent.
She didn’t know what she was saying or thinking, and right now she didn’t have time to care. She had far more important things to be thinking about.
Like what his fingers were doing.
She leaned into his touch and rocked with the rhythm of his fingers, first one then two inside of her. His mouth pushed her onward while his fingers danced in and out of her body. His strokes became stronger and his fingers traveled deeper until she knew she couldn’t take a moment longer. The ache inside her became a fierce convulsion that exploded in an orgasm.
As her breathing slowed, Bianca kept her head resting on his shoulder, not ready yet to look up at him. She felt too humiliated
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to speak. How could she have allowed him to do something like that to her?
“That was a mistake,” she finally said.
“No, it wasn’t.” He kissed the top of her head then released a ragged breath and touched his forehead to hers.
“Tomorrow I’m picking you up at your office at noon.”
She sat up straight and looked him in the eyes. “Why?”
“We’re getting married, right?”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
“Then we need to go and shop for a ring.”
Chapter 13
The following day Bianca called her office to say that she wouldn’t be coming in. First, she had the locks changed. Second, the morning sickness was getting the better of her and she spent the entire day and well into the afternoon puking in the toilet.
By lunch she moved out to the couch and lounged across the pillows. Her cell phone rang and she looked down at the ID and saw that it was the man she had agreed to marry.
London Brown.
She gave a loud, strangled groan. How was she ever going to be able to face him again after letting him touch her the way she had last night? Her body still tingled just thinking about the rhythm of his tongue. Heat raced through her as she remembered his fingers buried deep inside her.
She closed her eyes at the memory of his mouth and hand, and she found herself wondering what it would feel like to have something else moving inside her. Never had a man’s kisses affected her so strongly. Could she blame it on her hormones and being pregnant? Or was it something else?
Bianca shook her head, as if to shake off the thought. There was
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no way she could marry him. It was too ridiculous for words. All afternoon her phone had been ringing off the hook and she ignored all the calls from London and her mother. When she listened to the messages she was floored to learn that her mother had arranged to run an announcement of her engagement in Sunday’s paper.
Opening her eyes, Bianca stared out the window at the rain beating against the glass. Today would have been a wonderful day to have stayed under the covers and slept, but she just had too much on her mind. So many changes were about to happen in her life, and marrying London was not one she was ready to deal with. She knew he was going to be furious when he dropped by the office to take her ring shopping and she wasn’t there. She just couldn’t do it. There had to be another way out of this mess she had gotten herself in, other than marriage.
Bianca spent the rest of the afternoon watching silly soap operas and feeling nauseated. It was after five when she finally heard a knock at her door. Bianca glanced through the peephole and expelled a long breath. It was London.
She tried to stop her rapidly beating heart as she took a moment to stare at him without him catching her. All she wanted to see were those lips, and she found herself remembering the kiss they had shared the previous evening. The kiss that left her lying awake most of the night. The same kiss that had been on her mind all day today. He was dressed in khaki Dockers and a crisp white dress shirt and chocolate tie. He looked confident and professional. Yet at the same time he also looked incredibly sexy.
She expelled a long breath. Looking through the peephole, she was beginning to think that she was just starting to truly see this gorgeous man for the first time.
“Bianca, I hear you breathing. Please open the door.”
She counted to five then took a deep breath, told herself to get it together and opened the door.
“London?” she said and raised an arched brow, as if she didn’t know why he was here.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She looked up into his intense brown eyes and saw that he was genuinely concerned.
She shrugged her shoulders and stepped aside so he could
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enter, then closed the door behind him. “Better now. I only puked half the day.” She replied, leading him to her living room.
“Your assistant told me you weren’t feeling well. I wish you had called me.”
“Why?”
He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Because I’m
your
fiancé and I should not be the last to know that
my
fiancée who’s carrying
our
child, is home alone, sick.”
She walked over to the couch. His emphasis on
our
made her light-headed. London was claiming her unborn child as his! It caused a warm feeling to flow through her. She didn’t like the way her heart was reacting to his statement one bit.
“It’s a fake engagement. Our marriage isn’t going to be real.
And this baby is not yours.” She saw the hurt look on his face, and she instantly wished she could take those words back.
“Thanks for putting things back in perspective. I thought you wanted my help.”
He was doing her a favor and she was acting like an ungrateful brat just because she was vulnerable and afraid of the things he made her feel. “London, I’m sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I’m just having a bad day and needed to take it out on someone.”
He took a seat on the sofa across from her and gave her a goofy smile. “Glad I could be of service.”
His comment was met by silence.
“Do you need me to fix you something to eat?”
Her eyes widened. “You can cook?”
He met her curious gaze with a wide smile. “I’m the son of the ‘chicken king.’ Of course I can cook. My father taught me how to fry fish when I was five.”
Bianca playfully rolled her eyes heavenward. “I should have known. Hmm, I’ve never had a man in my life who could cook.”
“Now you do.” He rose from his seat and came to stand in front of her. “What can I get you?” he asked, then reached up and loosened his tie.
She noticed the way the shirt emphasized his wide shoulders and swallowed the knot in her throat. “I had soup and crackers a couple of hours ago. I don’t think I can handle anything else right now.”
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“You need to keep up your strength.”
His concern for her and her baby’s welfare touched Bianca.
“I know. But help yourself.”
“I wouldn’t mind some water if you have some.”
She nodded. “There’s bottled water in the refrigerator.”
While he walked into the other room, she took a deep breath and tried to calm the sensation traveling through her body. Only when she took a deep breath, the spicy aroma of his cologne filled her nostrils.
London returned and took his seat again. She watched while he took two thirsty drinks and finished the bottle. When he met her gaze again, his eyes were intense and her breath caught at the look she saw.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“Like what?”
“Like that.”
A smile flirted around his lips. “Maybe I like what I see.”
She struggled not to roll her eyes. “I know I look like crap today.”
“Bianca, you could be wearing a burlap sack and you would never look like crap.”
She smiled. His compliment was sweet.
London looked at her as if he were starving and she were a doughnut in a Krispy Kreme window. A part of her wanted to believe that what he said was true just as badly as she wished the proposal and their engagement were real.
He rose, moved over on the couch beside her and took her hand in his. She gasped. His touch elicited sensations throughout her body and feelings she didn’t want to have for him. “We still need to go and shop for an engagement ring for you. I could do it myself, but I want you to get what you want,” he said, holding her gaze.
She swallowed and snatched her hand back. “Look, London.
This is a mistake. I don’t know why I even considered the possibility. But it’s stupid and impulsive. No one will ever believe we’re in love.”
“I beg to differ. I think we’d be quite convincing,” he said as he raised a hand and stroked the side of her face.
Her skin heated on contact. “No, we wouldn’t.”
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London met her gaze. “Are you saying you’re not attracted to me?”
“I—I didn’t say that.” She stumbled over her words. She hated being unsure of herself. Every since he’d returned home, London had had women running after him, hoping to snatch the son of the “chicken king.” She refused to be anything like those silly, giggling women.
“I’m waiting.”
He was so cocky. She wanted to act like it bothered her, but instead it was one of the qualities she found most attractive about him. He’d always been demanding, and right now he demanded to know how she felt about him. She wasn’t about to swell his head.
He was handsome—that was a given. She was even attracted to him, but neither of those were reasons for them to get married.
Bianca tossed an angry hand in the air. “Stop trying to get in my head! Regardless of whether or not I am attracted to you, that isn’t a reason to get married.”
“What about the baby?”
Needing to put some distance between them, Bianca rose, strode into the kitchen, and retrieved a bottle of water for herself.
She should have known that London was going to follow her. As soon as she shut the refrigerator there he was, standing between her and the door.
He took his time, drawing his gaze from her feet back up to her face and when he finally did, her heart thumped heavily beneath her breasts.
“I often imagine how it would feel to have your legs wrapped around my waist. Or better yet, spread on my bed with them wide open, begging for my lips against your tender flesh.”
She was stunned into silence.
“Quit looking at me that way, otherwise I might be tempted to satisfy that hungry look in your eyes.”
She gave a strangled laugh. “I’m not looking hungry. And if I am, it’s because I need more than soup and crackers.”
“Liar! The look you gave me has nothing to do with food.”
“That’s not true!” she exclaimed. “If I wanted you, I wouldn’t beat around the bush about it.”
“I think we’re good together.”
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She took another drink and shook her head. “It will never work.”
His eyes blazed into hers. “I think it will.”
She finished drinking her water and didn’t bother to comment.
“Okay, how about this. If I kiss you and you feel nothing, then I will walk away.”
“What?” She knew that wasn’t about to happen because she still couldn’t forget the kiss he’d given her last night. “London, go home. We can try to come up with a different solution tomorrow.” She quickly scooted around him and headed toward her bedroom. Feeling self-conscious, she desperately needed to run a comb through her hair. Instead of leaving as she had ordered, London followed her.
“I thought I asked you to leave.”
“It’s too late for that. We’re already engaged.”
“Well, I want to be unengaged.” There was no way she could be married to him. Not with the way she felt about him. He moved closer. She tried to put some distance between them, but his body was positioned in such a way that she was trapped between him and a wall.
“I don’t think that’s really what you want.” He pulled her into his arms and before she could take her next breath, his mouth came down on hers. On contact, she released a sigh of surrender.
Immediately, she softened against him. She closed her eyes and when he touched the tip of his tongue to hers she forgot that he was simply trying to prove a point. All she wanted was to taste him.
He thrust his tongue between her lips and explored the inside of her mouth with intensity. The taste of spearmint flooded her senses. Arching against him, she groaned when his erection prodded her inner thigh.
If she had any sense, she’d shove him away and kick him out of her house after telling him the deal was off. But she couldn’t think straight. All she could do was feel, and right now every inch of her body wanted him. Every beat of her heart made her more desperate for his touch.
He pushed a spaghetti strap off her shoulders with impatient hands. The cool air touched her skin, hardening her nipples. But she was far from cold—London made her feel scorching hot. The heat of his hands was on her breasts, stroking, squeezing. Fire
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raced through her veins. His warm lips traced a hot, wet path from her mouth, down along her neck, not stopping until his lips closed over a taut nipple. Bianca cried out, her head slumping back in pleasure. This was the way it was supposed to be. London laved her nipple with his tongue, gently sucking and nibbling with his teeth, then repeated the torturous play with the other breast. His hands and lips worked her flesh with skill and know-how.