Читать книгу The Beaumont Brothers: Not the Boss's Baby - Sarah M. Anderson - Страница 16

Ten

Chadwick laid in Serena’s bed, his eyes heavy and his body relaxed.

Serena. How long had he fantasized about bending her over the desk and taking her from behind? Years. But the mirror? Watching her watch him?

Amazing.

She came back in and shut the door behind her. Her hair was down now, hanging in long, loose waves around her shoulders. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her hair down. She always wore it up. He could see her nude figure silhouetted by the faint light that trickled through her drapes. Her body did things to him—things he didn’t realize he could still feel. It’d been so long....

She paused. “You need anything?”

“You.” He held out his hand to her. “Come here.”

She slipped into bed and curled up against his chest. “That was...wow.”

Grinning, he pulled her in for a kiss. A long kiss. A kiss that involved a little more than just kissing. He could not get enough of her. The feeling of her filling his hands, pressed against him—she was so much a woman. He’d brought three condoms, just in case. He had the remaining two within easy reach on her bedside table.

So he broke the kiss.

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “Chadwick?”

“Yes?”

She paused, tracing a small circle on his chest. “I’m pregnant.”

“A fact we’ve already established.”

“But why doesn’t that bother you? I mean, everything’s changing and I feel so odd and I’m going to blow up like a whale soon. I just don’t think...I don’t feel beautiful.”

He traced a hand down her back and grabbed a handful of her bountiful backside. “You are amazingly beautiful. I guess you being pregnant just reminds me how much of a woman you are.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Then why didn’t you ever have kids with Helen?”

He sighed. He didn’t want Helen in this room. Not now. But Serena had a right to know. Last week, they might not have discussed their personal lives at the office—but this was a different week entirely. “Did you ever meet her? Of course you did.”

“At the galas. She never came by the office.”

“No, she never did. She didn’t like beer, didn’t like my job. She only liked the money I made.” Part of that was his fault. If he’d put her before the job, well, things might have been different. But they might not have been. Things might have been exactly the same.

“She was very pretty. Very—”

“Very plastic.” She’d been pretty once, but with every new procedure, she’d changed. “She had a lot of work done. Lipo, enlargements, Botox—she didn’t want to have a baby because she didn’t want to be pregnant. She didn’t want me.”

That was the hard truth of the matter. He’d convinced himself that she did—convinced himself that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, that it would be different from his father’s marriages. That’s why he’d struck the alimony clause from the pre-nup. But he’d never been able to escape the simple fact that he was Hardwick’s son. All he’d ever been able to do was temper that fact by honoring his marriage vows long after there was nothing left to honor.

“She moved out of our bedroom about two years ago. Then filed for divorce almost fourteen months ago.”

“That’s a very long time.” The way she said it—air rushing out of her in shock—made him hold her tighter. “Did you want to have a kid? I mean, I get her reasons, but...”

Had he ever wanted kids? It was no stretch to say he didn’t know. Not having kids wasn’t so much his choice as it had been the path of least resistance. “You haven’t met my mother, have you?”

“No.”

He chuckled. “You don’t want to know her. She’s—well, in retrospect, she’s a lot like Helen. But that’s all I knew. Screaming fights and weeks of silent treatment. And since I was my father’s chosen son, she treated me much the same way she treated Hardwick. I ruined her figure, even though she got a tummy tuck. I was a constant reminder that she’d married a man she detested.”

“Is that what Helen did? Scream?”

“No, no—but the silent treatment, yes. It got worse over time. I didn’t want to bring a child into that. I didn’t want a kid to grow up with the life I did. I didn’t...I didn’t want to be my father.”

He couldn’t help it. He took her hand and guided it around to his side—to where the skin had never healed quite right.

Serena’s fingertips traced the raised scar. It wasn’t that bad, he told himself. He’d been telling himself that same thing for years. Just an inch of puckered skin.

Helen had seen it, of course, and asked about it. But he hadn’t been able to tell her the truth. He’d come up with some lie about a skiing accident.

“Oh, Chadwick,” Serena said, in a voice that sounded like she was choking back tears.

He didn’t want pity. As far as the world was concerned, he had no reason to be pitied. He was rich, good-looking and soon to be available again. Only Serena saw something else—something much more real than his public image.

He still didn’t want her to feel sorry for him. So he kept talking even as she rubbed his scar. “Do you know how many half siblings I have?”

“Um, Frances and Matthew, right?”

“Frances has a twin brother, Byron. And that’s just with Jeannie. My father had a third wife and had two more kids with her, Lucy and David. Johnny, Toni and Mark with his fourth wife. We know of at least two other kids, one with a nanny and one with...” He swallowed, feeling uncertain.

“His secretary?”

He winced. “Yes. There are probably more. That was why I fought against this,” he said, pressing his lips against her forehead, “for so long. I didn’t want to be him. So when Helen said she wanted to wait before we had kids—and wait and wait—I said fine. Because that’s different than what Hardwick did.”

Serena pulled her hand away from his scar to trace small circles on his chest again. “Those are all really good reasons. Mine were more selfish. I didn’t marry Neil because my parents were married and that piece of paper didn’t save them or me. I always thought we’d have kids one day, but I wanted to wait until my finances could support us. I put almost every bonus you’ve ever given me into savings, building up my nest egg. I thought I’d like to take some time off, but the thought of not getting that paycheck every other week scared me so much. So I waited. Until I messed up.” She took a ragged breath. “And here I am.”

He chewed over what she’d said. “Here with me?”

“Well...yes. Unmarried, pregnant and sleeping with my boss in clear violation of company policy.” She sighed. “I’ve spent my adult life trying to lead a stable life. I stayed with a man I didn’t passionately love because it was the safe thing to do. I’ve stayed in this apartment—the same place I’ve lived since I moved in with Neil nine years ago—because it’s rent-controlled. I drive the same car I bought six years ago because it hasn’t broken down. And now? This is not the most secure place in the world. It...it scares me. To be here with you.”

Her whole life had been spent running away from a hellish childhood. Was that any different from his? Trying so hard to not let the sins of the father revisit the son.

Yet here he was, sleeping with his secretary. And here she was, putting her entire livelihood at risk to fall into bed with him.

No. This would not be a repeat of the past. He would not let her fall through the cracks just because he wasn’t strong enough to resist her. At the very least, he hadn’t gotten her pregnant and abandoned her like his father would have—even if someone else had done just that.

“I want to be here with you, even if it complicates matters. You make me feel things I didn’t know I was still capable of feeling. The way you look at me...I was never a son, never really a husband. Just an employee. A bank account. When I’m with you, I feel like...like the man I was always supposed to be, but never got the chance to.”

She clutched him even tighter. “You never treated me like I was an afterthought, a welfare kid. You always treated me with respect and made me feel like I could be better than my folks were. That I was better.”

He tilted her face back. “I will not fail you, Serena. This complicates things, but I made you a promise. I will keep it.”

She blinked, her eyes shining. “I know you will, Chadwick. That means everything to me.” She kissed him, a tender brush that was sweeter than any other touch he’d ever felt. “I won’t fail you, either.”

The next kiss wasn’t nearly as tender. “Serena,” he groaned as she slipped her legs over his thighs, heat from her center setting his blood on fire. “I need you.”

“I need you, too,” she whispered, rolling onto her back. “I don’t want to look at you in a mirror, Chadwick. I want to see you.”

He sat back on his knees and grabbed one of the condoms. Quickly, he rolled it on and lowered himself into her waiting arms. His erection found her center and he thrust in.

She moaned as he propped himself up on one arm and filled his other hand with her breast. “Yes, just like that.”

He rolled his thumb over her nipple and was rewarded when it went stiff. Her breast was warm and full and real. Everything about her was real—her body, her emotions, her honesty.

Serena ran her nails down his back as she looked him in the eye, spurring him on. Over and over he plunged into her welcoming body. Over and over, waves of emotion flooded his mind.

Now that he was with her, he felt more authentic than he had in years—maybe ever. The closest he’d ever come to feeling real was the year he’d spent making beer. The brewmasters hadn’t treated him with distrust, as so many people in the other departments had. They’d treated him like a regular guy.

Serena worked hard for him, but she’d never done so with the simpering air of a sycophant. Had never treated him like he was a stepping stool to bigger and better things.

This was real, too. The way her body took his in, the way he made her moan—the way he wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go....

Without closing her eyes—without breaking the contact between them—she made a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat as she tightened on his body then collapsed back against her pillow.

He drove hard as his climax roared through his ears so loudly that it blotted out everything but Serena. Her eyes, her face, her body. Her.

He wanted her. He always had.

This didn’t change anything.

“Serena...” He wanted to tell her he loved her, but then what did that mean? Was he actually in love with her? What he felt for her was far stronger than anything he’d ever felt for another woman, but did that mean it was love?

So he bit his tongue and pulled her into his arms, burying his face into her hair.

“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Tonight. In my bed.”

“Yes.” That was all he needed right now. Her, in his arms.