Waking Up Pregnant. Mira Kelly Lyn

to lose sight of that because her pride wouldn’t allow her to be one of those women who pinned all their hopes on the wealthy, jet-setting billionaire realizing the “good time” he picked up in Vegas—the city whose tourist industry had made a slogan of the promise that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas—was actually the woman he’d been waiting for his whole life.

      No. The only way she could give in on any level, was if it was on her terms. With her eyes open and her expectations clear.

      There was no tomorrow with this man.

      “A lot of questions in those eyes tonight, Darcy.” Jeff said, brushing her cheek with a single knuckle. “But there doesn’t have to be. Tell me you’re ready to call it a night and I’ll take you home and thank you for an evening I won’t soon forget. Or we can keep doing what we’ve been doing, without taking it any further at all. Stay up until morning. Watch the sun rise.”

      His eyes held hers as he asked, “What would you like to do next?”

      Her heart raced. He was giving her a clear out. The easy goodbye.

      She could tell him good-night. Take a cab home to her packed-up apartment. Sleep snug in the knowledge she’d cut things off before they’d gone too far. Before she gave in to the risks that pushed her beyond the boundaries of safe.

      Or she could answer with the truth. That something about being with him made her ache for things she never wanted. Made her body shiver and heat. And most of all, want to grab hold of this moment and just give in to it. Surrender.

      She reached for the open neck of his shirt and, letting two fingers curve into the gap between the button and plain white T-shirt beneath, pushed to her toes to meet his mouth with her own.

      It was the barest of kisses. The lightest brush. Separated from a friendly peck only by a quiet, lingering beat promising what she hadn’t found the words to say. Words she didn’t need, based on the satisfaction in the eyes meeting hers as she stepped back into her own space. The wolfish smile as Jeff shook his head and, taking her hand, tugged her back against him.

      “I’ve been telling myself no all night, Darcy,” he murmured gruffly into her ear, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “If you’re saying yes, that little kiss isn’t going to be enough to tide me over until we get back to my room.”

      Her words were barely more than a trembling whisper. “Then you better take what you need now.”

      When he kissed her again, there was nothing tentative about it. Nothing friendly. It was firm and commanding. A decadent back-and-forth press of his lips against her own, deepening with every pass until she’d opened to him completely.

      He licked into her mouth, his tongue gliding over hers in a wet velvet rub that had her fingers tightening in his shirt and a helpless whimper betraying her desire.

      Her knees must have given out because he was holding her against him, supporting her in his powerful arms as he kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.

      Senseless.

      Breathless.

      Taking her with the firm thrust of his tongue and—oh, that was so good—then again and again, until every part of her turned liquid and hot.

      Needy.

      Alive.

      Another deep thrust and her belly twisted with a sensual hunger threatening to make her its slave. She’d been starved for this.

      Jeff’s arms snaked tight around her, one hand running the length of her back until it covered her bottom, firmed over her, pulled her in closer as he bent her back so she could feel him against her, and oh, yes, yes—

      Abruptly Jeff broke from the kiss, setting her back a step even as he continued to support her. No!

      “That was enough?” she asked, panting, her lips tender in a way that made her desperate for more.

      “Not even close.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, the look on his face one of pure bewilderment. “But based on that kiss, I don’t think either one of us wants to risk what will happen if I get my hands on you in public again.”

      Darcy wasn’t so sure. For more of what she’d just had, she might be willing to risk anything.

      FOUR

      Somehow they’d made it back to Jeff’s suite. Barely. And when the door snicked closed, it was with Darcy against it. Jeff’s hands braced above her head as he devoured the lush mouth he’d gotten only the cruelest taste of back on the strip.

      She was so hot and wet and soft, and how they made it back without him pulling her across his lap in the cab or taking her against one of those mirrored walls in the elevator, he had no idea. Because once he saw the indecision gone from her eyes, and got his first taste of the heat she’d been keeping as much a secret as everything else—God help him, all he could think was more.

      He rocked into her, nearly losing it at the sound of those desperate little noises she kept making. The humming and moaning. Catching her breath when he hiked her legs at either side of his hips and ground against her. Purring when, after she locked her ankles at his back and urged him on, he did it again and again and again—driving them both mad with the contact that wouldn’t be enough until the clothes were gone and he was thrusting hard and deep inside her.

      “Jeff, please,” she whimpered against his jaw, her body taut as he pushed her closer toward the peak she’d be visiting about a half dozen times over the next few hours if he had his way.

      “Like this, baby?” he asked, canting his hips so the hard shaft of his erection rolled over her sweet spot.

      Another desperate cry and her fingers knotted in his hair.

      He’d take that as a yes.

      “Jeff!” she gasped a second before her body arched and her lips parted on a silent cry that held and held and held but never found its voice. One that invited him to take advantage, licking and nipping as he carried her through the last waves of pleasure. And then she was kissing him back, her lax body a satisfying contrast to his. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and soft like he hadn’t seen them yet.

      So gorgeous.

      So damn sweet.

      And for tonight, his.

      Though even as he thought it, he realized one night wouldn’t be enough. Hell, he’d known before she kissed him he’d be back.

      “Darcy,” he started, his mouth moving against the slender column of her neck. “This, tonight—”

      Her fingers tightened in his hair as she urged him back to her mouth. “I know. It’s perfect. Everything I didn’t think I wanted.”

      She kissed him again, distracting him with the slide of her tongue playing over his and the wiggle of her hips as she unlocked her ankles and went back to her feet. Her delicate hand smoothing down the front of his shirt, over his chest and stomach, and down the jutting ridge of his erection still contained behind the confines of his suit pants. He pushed into her palm, groaning at the feel of her stroking him through the fabric and then curling her fingers into his belt and, walking backward, tugged him toward the bedroom.

      Perfect.

      It was the single thought in his head, reverberating with each step as he let her lead him toward the only salvation he wanted.

      They pulled at each other’s clothes, reveling in each new stretch of bared skin, tumbling onto the bed in a frenzied, desperate tangle of limbs. Darcy grabbed the condom he’d tossed up by the pillow and tore open the foil.

      “I can’t wait,” she panted, her hands trembling as she began rolling the latex down his more than ready shaft.

      “No more waiting,” he agreed, positioning himself between her legs so he was notched at her slick opening.

      Their eyes met, and he pushed inside her with