All He Needs (All or Nothing) (35 page)

She looked up with tears in her eyes. “You really didn’t know if you were coming back?”

He shrugged. “An issue with one of those unsavory characters. But the gravity of the situation made me realize that you were the only person in the whole world who mattered to me.” A faint smile warmed his eyes. “And now junior or juniorette is added to my list. It helps if there’re two”—he ran his hand over her flat belly, then glanced up at her and smiled—“when it comes to dealing with a baby. We’ll be happy—all of us. My word on it.”

She looked at him, thinking that maybe miracles did come true, that if you wanted something badly enough some benevolent spirit conferred it on you. “I’ve only ever wanted you—from the very first.”

He smiled, remembering her letter in Hong Kong. “With reservations.”

She smiled back. “
Despite
reservations.”

“You’ve had me from the first, baby,” he said tenderly. “In some deep, strange, new place I didn’t even know existed. And you have me now”—his smile was soft with love—“and forever and a million years after that.”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” she whispered.

“I won’t. Not ever.” He dipped his head and held her gaze. “May I kiss you now? I’m asking because I don’t want to frighten you. I’ve been too long in the wilderness.”

“I may frighten you back.” She suddenly went still, afraid she was coming undone.

He shook his head. “Never, baby. Won’t happen.” Then he very gently took her face in his hands, lowered his head, and just before his lips met hers, whispered, “We’ll get it right this time. I promise.”

C.C. Gibbs is the pen name of
New York Times
bestselling author Susan Johnson. She lives in the Midwest, at times in Northern California, is married with three children and considers the life of a writer the best of all possible worlds. Bringing characters to life allows her imagination full reign, while the creative process offers fascinating glimpses into the machinery of the mind. And last but not least, researching anything, but particularly a book like ALL HE NEEDS—thank you Google—is great fun!

Learn more at:

www.SusanJohnsonAuthor.com

Twitter, @CCGibbs

Facebook.com/CCGibbsAuthor

D
ominic’s blue gaze was warm with pleasure as he freed the top button on Kate’s pajama top. “I feel like a kid at Christmas who gets to open his special present.”

“Then if you’ll undress for me”—Kate’s voice was lazy with content—“we’ll both get a special present.”

His grin was wickedly sexy. “That’ll take two seconds.”

“Maybe you’d like to reword that,” she said, instantly testy, the blur of women in his past, the sex photos, tabloid and otherwise, not easily forgotten.

He looked up into a pouty face and stormy eyes and his fingers stilled. “How about I take my time undressing? This is all about what you want.”
Because he had what he wanted.
“Just let us know the schedule.”

Mollified or embarrassed or both, Kate softly sighed. “Lord, I’m even more jealous than before. I’m going to blame my crazy baby hormones because I don’t want to think of myself as some jealous bitch.” She smiled faintly. “Tell me you don’t mind or I’ll burst into tears again.”

He laughed. “Whatever you do is fine, baby.” Then his voice went soft. “If there were nine circles of hell, I was in the tenth without you, okay? Nothing you can do will even begin to replicate that fucking misery. So jealousy, tears, whatever—hit me with it, I don’t care.”

Her smile was sunny again. “Really. I have carte blanche?”

“Damn right. You’re nurturing this baby for us. You’re allowed anything. You want something, let me know. I’ll find it for you. You need a shoulder to cry on, I’m here. You have a craving for something, it’s yours.” Framing her face in his palms, he dipped his head. “Because I’m good at getting what I want,” he whispered.

“And you want me.”

“You have no idea, baby.”

“Even if I’m fat?”

He grinned. “Depends how fat, I suppose.”

She punched him.

His gaze was lit with amusement. “Okay, so we’ll take all the scales out of our houses.”

“Your houses.”

“Hey.” He looked at her, his mouth pursed.

“Our houses—in three weeks,” she added with a grin.

“I’ll have to spank you softly now, but don’t think I won’t if you get too mouthy, Katherine. We’re not going to argue about money. What’s mine is yours. End of discussion.”

She wiggled her hips.

“Are you trying to change the subject?” But his dick got the message loud and clear and swelled noticeably.

“I am,” she purred. “I hate talking about money. And for your information, pregnancy makes me even more sexy.”

He stared at her. “It does?”

“No doubt in my mind.”

He exhaled softly and ran through a few quick trial questions, because even with Max’s surveillance, there was the possibility someone had been missed. Then, drawing
in a breath, he said carefully, “I’ll ask this only once and I apologize in advance because I have no right to ask when we weren’t together, but did you—”

“Only my vibrator—or yours actually,” she interjected because he was trying so hard to be polite.

He blew out a breath. “Sorry. It shouldn’t matter but it does.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered, shoving him away as jealousy instantly soured her mood again.

He wouldn’t have had to move; he was more than a hundred pounds heavier than her. But considering their very recent detente, he did. Smoothly rolling away, he rested beside her in a lounging pose, his head propped on his hand. “Come on, baby, it’s almost over,” he said softly. “And the minute my divorce is stamped by that judge in France, we’re getting married. You should tell Nana.”

“Don’t change the subject. I should whip your ass,” she said, although after Dominic’s sweet earnestness, her tone was less grumpy.

Encouraged, he smiled. “If that changes the subject, be my guest.”

She grinned. “Really?”

“Fucking A. I don’t want to talk about this or even think about it.” He’d agreed to a temporary marriage to ensure Katherine’s safety—although she was unaware of her danger. He wanted to keep it that way. “But seriously,” he added, “you should give Nana a head’s up. I’ll send a plane for her, but still, she might like some warning.”

“I can’t call her and tell her that you’re married, I’m pregnant, and if all goes well, you’ll soon be divorced
and
should that happen, then we’ll get married. Not only does that sound like some scam, but I’d like to see your divorce papers before I call her. Nana will have her shotgun loaded and pointed at you when she gets off the plane unless everything’s settled. You met her. So that can’t be a surprise.”

“She didn’t seem unreasonable,” he said. “We got along.”

“Jesus, did you charm her too?”

He grinned. “You mean I actually charmed you?”

“To the extent that we’ll soon be parents,” she noted sardonically, running her hand over the slight rise of her belly.

“Lucky me,” he murmured, placing his hand on her stomach. “I mean it, Katherine. You don’t know how pleased I am that you’re having my baby.” Leaning over, he took a chance, kissed her cheek, and gave himself a mental high five when she didn’t balk. “But if you prefer, call Nana when everything’s resolved.”

“Jeez, Dominic, you make it sound as if you forgot your umbrella and as soon as someone’s brings it to you, life’s back on track.”

“The degree of difficulty doesn’t concern me, so long as we get out lives back.” A muscle twitched along his jaw, a sudden chill invaded his eyes. “And I promise you, we will.”

“You sound like you did with those bankers in Singapore. Can you stop? It’s scary.”

He ran his hand over his eyes in a literal gesture of nullification. “Sorry,” he said, smoothly, the cold belligerence extinguished from his gaze. “And now if you can wait a few minutes before you whip my ass,” he added, cupping her small belly in his large palm, “I’d like to say hi to our
baby.” Bending low, he murmured, “I’m your daddy. We’re going to have fun, you and me and Mommy. You’re going to be the center of our world, did you know that? And if you want a pony you can have one,” he added playfully, then looked up and rolled back. “They can hear, right?”

“I think so. I’m completely ignorant. I almost had a pony but Gramps balked at cleaning the stall. Did you have one?”

“Uh-uh. I never wanted one, but maybe the baby will take after you. Did you hear that?” He brushed his palm over Kate’s belly. “Your mommy wanted a pony.” He glanced at Kate. “I think we’d better get some baby books. Neither of us knows what we’re doing. In fact, let me call Melanie. She can overnight some to us.” He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket.

“Now?”

“It’s early afternoon in San Francisco. If she buys them today, we’ll have them tomorrow. We can’t shop for them or the paparazzi might see us. If some of my staff buy them, we’re no better off. So Melanie’s safe.” He grinned, punched in a name on his directory. “Instant gratification. I want to learn about babies. Not that I didn’t help Melanie with her first two, but when it’s not really your job, you just do what you’re told. This is
our
baby. I want to know
everything
. Hi, Mel. We need some baby books. All you can find. Send them overnight. No shit, I’m excited. Why wouldn’t I be? Yeah, yeah, cute. How about it’s better, okay? Like a hundred times better. Don’t give me any more grief. Just send them. No, you can’t talk to Katherine now because I’m talking to her. Yeah, actually talking. Good-bye.” He punched End and tossed his phone on the bedside table.

“What’s a hundred times better?”

“Nothing. Mel was being clever, that’s all.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s raunchy.”

“Now I really want to know.”

He made a face. “It was a long time ago.”

“Jesus, Dominic. Do you ever want a piece of ass again?”

“Watch it, baby. That’s not negotiable.”

“Maybe I have something to say about it.”

“Not as much as me,” he said in a soft growl.

She sighed. “I couldn’t anyway. This pregnancy makes me soooo horny. But I
could
be too tired for sex. I
am
tired a lot.”

“Oh Jesus… okay. But don’t get pissed. It’s just surfer slang. When you’re surfing in waves that should kill you and you’re in the jaws of a wind tunnel that should destroy you and you know you can’t control it, you just let goooo. You lay into the warp and ride it clean through a cannon blast of green spit. And when you come out the other side alive, we call that kind of ride the next best thing to a three-way. That’s all.” Or that’s all he was going to tell her. She’d freak at the real three-way stuff.

“That’s not so raunchy. It’s cute.”

“Glad to hear it.”
Really glad. He was off the hook.
“So.” He pointed at her pajama buttons. “May I?”

“It’s always a yes, damn you. Sometimes I wish I had more control.”

He smiled, looked up from sliding a second button free. “I like that you don’t.”

“Still. It’s always too easy for you. It always has been, I expect. I hate to be one of the crowd.”

It stopped him for a flashing moment, the thought that he’d do any of this for anyone but her. Risk his life, offer an open-ended bribe of millions to Gora, marry some horny little bitch who was looking to augment her family’s bank account. “You’re one of a kind, baby, not one of a crowd,” he said gently, back to his unbuttoning. “I’ve never asked anyone to marry me before. I’ve never considered having a baby with anyone before. I’ve never been in love like this before. Would you like that in writing? On a billboard somewhere. I could do a press release. In all modesty,” he said with a small smile, sliding the last button free, “it would be a worldwide news flash.”

“I want it in skywriting,” she said, deadpan, before she grinned. “And thank you. For someone who always had more confidence than I needed, this baby is screwing with my head. It’s really strange.”

“It doesn’t matter. I like you strange or any way at all. Ummm.… this I like a lot,” he murmured, having brushed aside her pajama top. “They’re bigger.” He looked up. “When did that happen?”

“Are you sure? I haven’t noticed.”

“I’m sure, baby. You’ve been working too hard if you haven’t noticed these.” He slid his hand under the curve of one large breast and gently lifted. “We’re going to have to fly Mrs. Hawthorne over to see that you have some bras that fit.”

“No.”

“Later then.” He sat up and cupped her other breast.

“No, not later either.” They’d had this fight before.

“Then you’re going to have to wear some bulky sweaters because these aren’t for public display.” He moved his fingers and very gently squeezed her swollen nipples. “These are for me.”

“I’m guessing the baby gets first dibs on my boobs. Oh, God, that feels good.”

He looked up, smiled. “Then I’ll settle for seconds. Apparently, parental self-sacrifice starts early.”

“Even earlier than that.” She raised her brows. “My breasts are incredibly sensitive now and I’m practically in heat twenty-four/seven. So I’m going to need some of your personal attention—like constantly.”

“Jesus,” he breathed. “My dick heard that. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Don’t you dare even think that,” she hissed.

“My mistake. Although we should talk to a doctor just to make sure.”

She glared at him.

“Tomorrow. Not now. A female doctor. I didn’t like Clifton.”

“You’re not undressed yet,” she said, ignoring his comments, only half-listening, her attention focused on her impatient desire, on the steady throbbing between her legs, particularly on Dominic’s opened jeans and his obvious erection beneath his blue-and-white-striped boxers. “I’d like the two-second undressing if you don’t mind.”

“Would it matter if I did mind?” he said with a grin, ripping off his T-shirt.

“I
am
going to whip your ass if you don’t hurry.” Then
she drew in a shaky breath, her eyes filled with tears, and she whispered, “I’ve really missed you.”

He was undressed in under two seconds. So grateful for the love radiating from her eyes, he would have given her the world wrapped up in a bow and delivered by pixies if she’d asked.

But the one thing he knew she needed he delivered. Quickly settling between her legs, he smoothly entered her, drove in more gently than usual despite her protestations that everything was fine.

Her
fine
and his were still in contention.

“Dominic! Please!” she cried, hotheaded and hot-blooded, hurriedly wrapping her legs around his hips, her arms around his back, dragging him closer.

He carefully moved deeper, ignoring, or rather disregarding, her nails sinking into his back. It wasn’t possible to actually ignore them.

“I’m going to cry if you don’t let me come!”

So he compromised, not because female tears disconcerted him, but because he wanted to please her. And in lieu of added depth, he flexed his stiff, thick dick upward and rubbed it back and forth over her pulsing G-spot. “We’re seeing a doctor tomorrow,” he said, rough and low. “Say yes or I’ll stop.”

“Yes, yes, yes… oh yes,” she sighed, her nails sliding off of his back. “Do that again.”

“This?” His pain level blessedly reduced, he obliged her with his well-trained dick and steel-hard thigh muscles, pressing gently against her G-spot and clit, once, twice, several more times, before moving slightly in and out, side to
side, then back to her favorite entertainment site while she panted and gasped in wonder and delight, softly moaning in rising hysteria.

And he did what women around the world loved him for—over and above his money. He fucked like an artist: with natural talent, an almost indecent technical competence, and the well-honed gift of accurately gauging female arousal.

Like just about
now
, he decided, sliding his long, slender fingers over the curve of Kate’s hips, under her soft, round ass and lifting her so his rigid erection pressed hard into her throbbing cushiony mound of tightly concentrated bliss.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

He watched with a faint smile and a well-behaved, disciplined dick as nearly breathless now, she careened at volatile, breakneck speed over the orgasmic edge and climaxed with only the tiniest of screams.

Which served as musical background to his own satisfying climax.