Pregnant By The CEO by Cassandra Dee

14

Casey

Midway through the day, Pierce calls me from the office. On the phone, he sounds gruff and confident, but somehow earnest and endearing too. Oh my god, have I gone soft? Because I slept with him, and it was one of the best nights of my life. But at the same time, I know men are often only about the physical – any emotional feelings that come afterwards are just a byproduct that they wish didn’t exist. So I have to stay strong, and yet, butterflies flutter in my stomach at the thought of Pierce.

Because the billionaire’s invited me to dinner for two at 7 p.m. at the most prestigious restaurant in New York City, Le Bijoux. Oh my god. Do I even have anything suitable to wear? I’m sure the other ladies will be dolled up to the nines, so I can’t exactly throw on a work dress and be done with it.

As soon as I hang up, I dash to Nicole’s office. As the food editor of Two One Two, she’s been lucky enough to dine at Le Bijoux a number of times and knows what to expect.

When I arrive at her door, Nic sees my blushing face and immediately senses that I’m finally going to spill the beans. She leaps out of her chair and opens the door, gripping my hand with excitement.

“Hot seat time?” she asks gleefully. I nod.

Between Nicole’s nosiness and my inability to stop going over every detail of my weekend tryst with Pierce, I dish every detail of the affair.

“It’s Pierce Lane?” she shrieks, her voice going up about an octave on the word Lane. “Your mystery guy is Pierce Lane?”

I nod. “Yes why? Do you know him?’’ It’s not impossible. Nic gets out a lot, and I mean a lot. Maybe she’s had a conversation with him at a party or something.

“No Casey,” my buddy sighs. “I don’t know know him. Come on, I’m a lowly magazine editor, and he’s an alpha CEO. Our paths don’t intersect. But oh my god, I see him in the gossip pages all the time. I mean, look!”

She turns to her computer and throws his name into Google. My jaw drops. For someone so “arrogant,” he failed to tell me that he was voted America’s Most Eligible Bachelor the previous year by three different gossip rags.

“What’s he like in person?” she gushes. I shrug and try to look nonchalant.

“He’s commanding and masculine.” I say. “But he has a softer, gentler side, I think. I saw a glimpse of it on Friday. That is, when we weren’t going at it like wild animals…”

My buddy grins devilishly. “As you should be. He’s so sexy. Oooh, you’re such a bad girl, Casey!”

I bite my lip. Even thinking about it, a rush of tingly anticipation washes through me. “Well, I might get another chance tonight.”

“Aieeeee!” Oh my god, what a weird interjection, but I can’t help grinning at my friend’s yelp of glee. “Sorry, just excited for you,” she pants. “Tell me all about tonight.”

I dish about my dinner reservation at Le Bijoux and she gasps.

“What are you doing for lunch?”

I shrug. “Sandwich from up the road, probably.”

“I’ll meet you at your office at noon because we need to get you a dress for tonight pronto.”

Thank god. This is exactly what I need, and I knew I could trust Nic to step in. After all, she’s a good friend, and sure enough, after work we spend an hour trying on dresses at her place, eventually settling on something red and sultry that shows off my curves. I’m going to knock Pierce dead tonight … and love every second of it.

At 6:45, the Uber zips away from the curve, my heart fluttering with nerves. All my years in New York City and I’ve never been to Le Bijoux. It’s out of my price range, out of my social range, and frankly, out of my age range too. Most girls in their twenties don’t know anyone dining at Le Bijoux, but there’s always a first time, right? I check my reflection in the driver’s mirror. I think I look fancy enough to fit in.

The dress which I’m wearing now is not my usual attire at all. With the help of Nicole’s discerning eye, I eventually picked out a velvet outfit in a deep shade of crimson. It’s far tighter than anything I would normally select, but Pierce seemed to love my curves on Friday, so I want to give him more of that. We also bought a new pair of shoes: leopard print heels! I’m wearing my hair up for a change to show my favorite gold earrings. I’m also wearing a bit of makeup: some mascara and red lipstick to compliment my dress.

To be frank, I feel gorgeous and sexy.

In the car window, I catch a glimpse of my own reflection. My cleavage is on display tonight, perfumed and shimmering under the city lights. Pierce will like that. I remember the way his rough hands gently caressed my breasts on Friday, and I begin to get aroused. I go over some of the steamiest details from our night in my head. The salty taste of his mouth, and the smoky scent of his neck. The way he grabbed me by the ass before penetrating me. The way that harsh masculinity never let up until he came inside me.

But that’s the thing. Holy crap. We didn’t use any protection on Friday. How did we miss that? Did he think I was on the pill? I’ll have to talk to him about that over dinner.

The Uber pulls up to the restaurant, and I step out, giving the driver a little wave and silently thank him for not insisting I make small talk the entire ride. I don’t think it would have been very good for my nerves.

The restaurant is nearly at the very top of one of New York’s famous skyscrapers. I take an elevator that whooshes me to the penthouse, opening to a sultry and glamorous space with a big wraparound bar and impeccably dressed waitstaff. Oh wow. This is really, really fancy. Like much nicer than anything I’ve been to before.

But before I can feel intimidated, I’m immediately greeted by a maître’d. He smells of expensive cologne and holds a leather-bound menu.

“You must be Miss Henderson,” he bows, smooth as glass. I nod, taken by surprise. “Mr. Lane has been expecting you,” the maître’d explains. Oh, I see.

The small man leads me through the bustling restaurant and to a more private part of the dining room hidden away in the back. An enormous floor-to-ceiling window offers a breathtaking view of Manhattan, and for a moment, I’m entranced.

But then I turn to the man at the table and catch my breath. Oh god, Pierce is gorgeous although he hasn’t seen me yet. He’s wearing a perfectly cut suit - a rich navy blue with sharp tailoring, his broad shoulders emphasized. He sips a glass of scotch and looks carelessly at the menu. Those strong, masculine hands glow in the light of the candle that flickers on the table.

The maitre’d clears his throat and Pierce looks up. When the alpha male sees me, he breaks into a gruff smile. He stands with a little flourish and, to my delight, kisses my hand. He pulls my chair back like a gentleman from an old film.

The maitre’d helps me into my seat, and Pierce sits as well, hot sparks shooting from his eyes. Oh my god. I’m going to melt, right here, right now. Someone pours me a glass of champagne, and then finally, we’re alone.

“You look absolutely spectacular,” he growls. I smile at him.

“Thank you,” is my blushing reply. I reach for my champagne and he lifts his glass as well. We toast to the evening, heat running between us madly. But Pierce won’t indulge my breathless question, and asks me about my day at work. I groan, rolling my eyes at the quotidian aspect. It’s the last thing I want to think about.

“Do you actually want to know about work?” I ask archly.

“Of course,” he says with a lifted eyebrow. “Why else would I ask?”

It’s my turn to sigh.

“Because it’s work talk. My work is the same as always, you know. Just blah blah blah.”

Pierce laughs, showing off perfect white teeth.

“That’s all?” he asks, one black eyebrow raised. But then I shake my head with a droll smile.

“Well, no, not exactly. After you called me, it was all I could think about. Being here tonight. Seeing you again.”

I hold my breath. Was that too much too soon? The big man doesn’t react, and suddenly my cheeks go hot. Dumb Casey, always putting her foot in it. But then he smiles, and a warm glow descends over my form.

“It was all I could think about, too,” comes that low rumble. He reaches under the table and grabs my hand. Oh god. I blush. I hope my palms aren’t as sweaty as they feel.

“You see that building right there?” He points out to a skyscraper in the distance.

“I do,” is my nodded murmur. I’m not sure what he’s getting at. It’s a magnificent building, for sure, but what does that have to do with anything?

Pierce grins. “I live there. See that window to the left? That’s the bedroom of my penthouse. We can go for a visit after dinner, if you’d like. Or we can go there right now if you like.”

I blush and bite my lip, looking into those penetrating blue eyes. He winks, but doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead opens the menu and hands it to me.

“Order whatever you’d like, sweetheart. If you can’t decide, get everything.”

With a giggle, I take a look. “I imagine a big shot like you comes here all the time? What do you recommend?”

Pierce doesn’t even look down.

“I always get the wagyu steak. I’m a creature of habit, you’ll learn. Oysters and scotch, as well.”

“I’ve heard wagyu beef is wonderful,” is my murmur. He grins.

“It is, but it won’t even compare to what you can get in Japan. Have you ever been?”

I shake my head.

“I would love to go to Japan, of course, but I haven’t had that many opportunities to travel internationally.”

“Japan’s amazing,” he tells me. “But no worries. Where else would you go, if you could?”

For a moment, I’m reminded of my ex and his extravagant trips. He was always rubbing his journeys in my face, while Pierce must be at least five times as well-traveled. And yet, Pierce doesn’t look down on me nor make me feel uncouth and uncultured. Instead, it feels different, like he wants to introduce me to far-away lands and fantasy worlds.

I realize that the entire time I was dating John in college, he never asked me a simple question like that. He only spoke of his own dreams, and his own travels. He didn’t care where I’d been or where I wanted to go. Pierce, on the other hand, cares. And a lot, it seems.

I consider his question carefully. Anything but Paris. Paris was ruined by the whole John fiasco. I’d prefer to avoid Hawaii too because that’s where I went using John’s airline voucher. Hmm, where else? I’ve always wanted to see Machu Picchu in Peru. I’ve dreamt of full moon parties in Thailand, and exploring the fjords of Norway. How does one choose?

I am about to tell Pierce this, but before I can answer, a waiter comes over. He’s dressed like he’s going to a wedding, with a full penguin suit complete with long tails.

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Lane et Mademoiselle Henderson,” he says with a flourish and a bow.

I feel myself flush with delight. I’ve never been a real VIP in an exclusive restaurant before.

Pierce masterfully orders oysters for us, and the waiter nods.

“Very good, Mr. Lane. Immediately.”

Wow, it must be amazing to have people jump and your beck and call. But I haven’t forgotten my date’s question.

“Thailand,” I tell him after a moment. “I’ve always wanted to go there. But it’s so far away that it just seems unattainable right now.”

He nods. “Never made it to Thailand. Always wanted to as well.”

“I love Thai food,” I tell him shyly.

He gives me a cheeky grin. “I do recall eating pad thai naked in your bed on Friday.”

I give him a coy smile and lightly brush my foot against his leg. The man stares at me intensely, as if he can see through my dress. That blue gaze sizzles as it traverses my body, and shamefully, I love every second of it.

But this is dinner, and soon, on a shining plate of rock salt, a dozen oysters sit between us. We knock them back together. They’re cold, briny and sweet, served with a zippy mignonette.

“Oysters are one of nature's aphrodisiacs,” he rumbles with a wink.

Out of nowhere, I visualize his throbbing cock entering me the other night. I remember the screams of pleasure that I couldn’t control. And suddenly, I remember that we need to talk about the lack of protection. Oh god.

“Uh, not to ruin the mood,” I mumble awkwardly after another oyster slides down my throat.

“What?” he asks casually. “I thought we were done with bracelet talk?”

“No, no, no. Nothing like that,” I assure him. “We’re beyond the bracelet. At least for tonight.”

“Well, what’s up, then?” The alpha male’s looking at me, oyster fork poised in midair with one black brow raised.

“Um well, we didn’t use protection the other night, and I’m not on the pill or anything. I just thought you should know.”

Pierce goes still.

Great. I guess I can expect a diamond bracelet tomorrow. Or better yet, a flight voucher. I blink back tears. To avoid him noticing, I take a sip of my champagne, and it sparks and fizzes against my throat.

“Are you okay?” he growls, obviously sensitive to my state of mind.

“Well, yeah, I’m okay. It shouldn’t be that time of my cycle, but I guess I thought you should know.”

Slowly, my lover sets down his fork and lifts his glass before swirling his drink and taking a thoughtful sip.

“Would you ever consider going on the pill?” he asks casually. I shake my head.

“The truth is, Pierce, no. I really don’t want to. At least not if I didn’t have to. I’ve always felt funny about it. I don’t know. I don’t like putting strange chemicals in my body, and besides, my breasts are already massive, and I’ve heard the pill makes them bigger.”

His eyes travel down to my ample cleavage, and the man looks at me with a hunger that these oysters won’t satiate. His eyes flicker up at me ravenously.

“I would never make a woman do anything she doesn’t want. If you don’t want to go on the pill, then that’s your choice,” he states in a low voice. Whew.

“Thank you,” I murmur. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

My heart, which was racing moments before, is steadying now. I take a few breaths, glad to have it over with. I look back to my menu, which is mostly in French, my taste buds almost vibrating. But the conversation isn’t done.

“But Pierce, if I’m not on the pill, then what are we going to do? I’m sorry to ask you this at dinner, but it’s important. You know it is.”

Pierce is silent, still swirling the wine in his glass.

“Are you saying we should use condoms?”

“Yes! No. I don’t know,” I finish miserably. “I just know that I’m young and fertile, and you know how these things go. If we keep having unprotected sex, I’ll wind up pregnant.”

A gleam flares in Pierce’s eyes before dying to a glimmer.

“And would that be so bad?” he drawls, not moving a muscle. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

What in the world? He must be crazy. We just met, and the billionaire can’t be suggesting that we get pregnant on purpose. That’s absolutely out of this world, and I gawk at him.

“Mr. Lane,” I protest. “You can’t mean that.”

But the CEO merely shrugs.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. It could be fun.”

This time my reply is swift.

“No, absolutely not. We can’t risk it. We have to do something. Anything. Unprotected sex isn’t the way to go. It’s not right for me because I have a job, and my career’s just getting started,” I begin.

But Pierce is unfazed.

“A career often has a life of its own,” he says casually. “After all, look at me. I’m forty-five and have been working non-stop for twenty-five years. Is that what you want for yourself?” he asks quizzically, one black brow raised.

I sputter a little.

“Well, no not exactly,” is my slow confession. “I mean, I definitely see myself as a mother. Just not immediately. Well, I didn’t plan on that at least, and there are so many factors to consider,” I finish in a confused rush.

But Pierce merely takes another sip of his drink.

“Sweetheart, you’re young, I’ll give you that. But let’s just see how this goes, hmmm? What do you say?”

“No, absolutely not,” is my firm reply. “We have to do something about protection,” I reiterate. This time that handsome face breaks into a warm smile.

“Fine, fine. How about this? I’ll pull out each time. That way, we’ll have the best of both worlds. You get pregnancy protection, and I get to feel the slickness of that pretty pink pussy right on my dick.”

I gasp, looking around. Did anyone hear what he just said? But we’re seated behind palm fronds and the other diners are too far away.

“You mean, you’ll pull out right before you climax,” I say slowly.

He grins at me then. “Yes, that’s right,” he agrees amiably. “So what do you say?”

My mind turns it over. I’d rather he used a condom, or I used a diaphragm, but I can tell that Pierce isn’t the type. And I desperately want to feel him skin on skin as well, that hot cock pulsing in my warm, swollen folds. Oh god. To my shame, my head nods as those blue eyes flare.

“I guess so,” is my soft murmur. “But you promise, okay? You’ll pull out every time.”

My man’s eyes flare even brighter then, the cobalt blue almost burning my skin.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says in a smooth drawl. “I promise.”

With that, I nod again before picking up the menu to stare at the cocktail options. But my eyes don’t see anything because what have I gotten myself into? I know that Pierce and I will be having sex non-stop. The heat between us is electric, and even though this is the nicest restaurant I’ve ever been to, the only thing I want is to leave and go to his penthouse. I want our bodies to be naked and writhing, straining towards one another. I want him to thrust into me again, and given the way the billionaire’s looking at me right now … it’s definitely going to happen soon.