Page 29 of Forced Pregnant Mate

I look up at him and place my hand gently on his chest. He’s so warm it feels like he could burn my fingers. The light is very dim—Jack flicked on a lamp on the way in, but didn’t turn on the main lights.

Jack tilts his head towards me, and I can feel his breath across my cheek. I want to move, but I can’t. That force of gravity between us has me caught, and my only choice is to collide with him…

And maybe be destroyed by the impact.

Jack kisses me. The touch of his lips on mine sends a hot, tingling rush of pleasure through me, so powerful that I waver on my feet. I grab his shoulders to keep myself upright, and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

I tighten my grip on him, pressing my body against his. Jack’s kisses get harder as he holds me against him, and I reach up eagerly with my lips and tongue, begging for more.

The fire that burns deep inside me is now a roaring inferno. I can’t think, all I can do is feel. My hands grip Jack’s shoulders tightly as I start to writhe against him, desperately seeking release.

When his hands slide down and grab my ass, a yelp bursts from my throat. I jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He holds me easily and takes a few steps across the room to put me down on the couch. I relax against the soft cushions, opening my mouth for his kiss and trying to pull him down on top of me.

Finally, finally!

Suddenly, Jack stops and pulls back. I can see the glint of his eye in the dark room, and the curve of his lips. The heat in my body pulses steadily, and I wait for him to kiss me again, but he doesn’t. A chill starts to creep into me, killing my lust with fear.

“Jack?”

“I can’t,” he shakes his head. “I meant for tonight to be a treat for you. To relax after a hard week. It’s not supposed to be an exchange.”

“What?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, standing up. “I just wanted you to know that. It’s okay.”

I sit up slowly, looking up at him and trying to stay calm. My heart is fluttering around in my chest like a trapped bird desperate to be free. I feel shaky and cold.

“I… okay.”

“Before I go to bed, I wanted to ask you something. Do you think you could do a few less hours waitressing, and come and help me at my shop?”

“Sure,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice even. “No problem.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He takes a step away from me, and I look up into his face, but I can’t see his expression in the dark.

“Good night, Lena.”

“Good night, Jack.”

He leaves, heading towards the bathroom. I wrap my arms around myself and walk slowly down the hallway towards the bedroom.

I will never be good enough for someone like him.

I can’t forget it. I need to remember this marriage is about duty… not love.

Chapter 12 - Jack

A few days later, I’m sorely regretting my decision to have Lena come to work with me. All I wanted was to spend time with her, but now I realize I’ve sunk myself neck-deep into a very special kind of hell.

I can’t take my eyes off her. It doesn’t matter if she’s on the phone, doing paperwork, or helping in the warehouse—my eyes are drawn to her, and my mind refuses to focus on any task. The sweet, strawberry cotton candy scent is on my tongue constantly, seeping through my senses and teasing me, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.

I’m looking right at my computer screen, trying to track monthly profit reports, and my eyes keep slipping up to watch Lena walk back and forth in front of me. She’s printing shipping labels and bringing them back to Clive, the store man, helping him send out packages. Every time she passes by, my gaze locks onto her, I lose my train of thought, then I have to start all over again.

I yank my focus back to the computer screen and force myself to study the figures. No matter how hard I stare, it’s just a jumble of black and white symbols. When I hear Lena laugh, I don’t even make a conscious decision to look up. My attention snaps back to her, and everything else vanishes from existence.

Clive is telling her a joke as they stick labels on boxes. I love how she tilts her head back, how her laugh starts off as a cute giggle, then deepens into a cackle. Her wild strawberry blond hair is pulled up into a loose bun, with strands falling down around her slender shoulders. Even though she’s only wearing baggy jeans and an old flannel shirt, I can clearly see her curved hips and narrow waist.

I completely abandon any ideas of focusing on the paperwork and watch, idly tapping my pen against the table. For days now, I’ve been watching her work and becoming more aroused by the second. I don’t know how long I can keep doing this before I crack.

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