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The Pregnancy Test

The Pregnancy Test (NY Girlfriends #1)(19)
Author: Erin McCarthy

When Jessica had died, he hadn’t thought he’d ever feel a sexual stirring or attraction to another woman. And then later, when his body had betrayed him, and wanted in an eager, shameful, lustful way, and he might have been tempted to go out and seek some quick company, he hadn’t been able to because they were watching every move he made. Picking a girl up for a one-night stand wouldn’t have worked to his advantage in the courtroom.

Then eventually, he had lost those angry physical urges, until he’d forgotten a time when he’d ever thought of sex as a wonderful, intimate, fulfilling experience.

He remembered now.

Mandy had stirred every one of those feelings back up into a tornado of intensity and want, and he had to have her. He just had to, or the very last vestiges of his soul and sanity would crumple away from him.

"But you’re my boss, Damien, and I’m, well, I’m having a baby." Even in the dark, he could see her eyes were dilated with pleasure and anticipation, but she was worried. Concerned about the future.

He didn’t give a damn about the future. There was only now and the two of them.

"Correct me if any of my assumptions are wrong, okay?"

She didn’t hesitate, just nodded.

"I’m attracted to you and you’re attracted to me. We’re both a little lonely, but neither of us can get involved with anyone right now. You need me. You want me. I need you tonight, too." Perhaps more than he was willing to admit. "I want you. Very, very much. And you shared a special moment with me."

Damien gently laid his hand on her slightly rounded stomach. He had been about knocked off his feet by the strong jerk he’d felt before. And while he was shocked to find out Mandy was having a baby, it had explained a lot of oddities, and if anything, had made her all the more attractive in his eyes.

She wanted to be a good mother. She loved her child. She had rejected that schmuck’s offer for money and was doing this on her own. She had risked the wrath of Demon Sharpton to secure her child’s future.

It told him everything he needed to know about her.

"Spend the night with me, Mandy. Just while we’re here, in Punta Cana, and nothing else matters. Let’s enjoy each other. Let’s appreciate life."

There was a long pause where she seemed to be weighing his words, and while he waited to feel the agony of rejection, the letdown of being told to go to hell, he buried his head in her neck and ran his lips over the soft flesh.

"I’ll spend the night with you, Damien," she said quietly.

Relief sang through him. Taking his tongue over the shells of the necklace she was wearing, he held her for a second. Just held her.

"That is, if you don’t think it’s unseemly for a mother-to-be to act this way." Her words were teasing, but there was a level of seriousness to the question, too.

Damien stood up and shook his head. "Not at all. I think it’s damn sexy. I can show you my erection if you need proof."

She laughed as he bent over and picked up her beach bag. "Let’s wait until we’re in the room for that, shall we?"

"But first we have to stop by the hotel store. Unless you have condoms in your room." He didn’t want her to worry that he wouldn’t use one since she was pregnant. He had no intention of making her uncomfortable.

She covered her face with her hand. "No, I don’t. God, I think I’m blushing. This is just so unbelievable."

"But in such a good way." Damien put his hand on the small of Mandy’s back and herded her in the direction of the hotel shop.

Good thing it was a short walk, because now that he had been given the green light by Mandy, he was more than a little eager. He was on fucking fire.

Mandy hung back in the store, hovering over by the imported magazines displayed both in English and Spanish, her cheeks a charming pink. Damien didn’t feel any embarrassment whatsoever. He strode over to the counter and asked the clerk, "Where are the condoms?"

Why waste even five minutes looking for them?

The man, in his late twenties, grinned at Damien and pointed behind him. "Individual or a box?"

"Box." No sense in having to repeat this shopping expedition if things went according to plan.

The clerk slapped the box down on the counter, and Damien studied the busty Hispanic woman in a bikini on the front. The carton was bright yellow, the bikini a violent orange, and while the label was in English, the small script was in Spanish. He hoped like hell these weren’t novelty condoms. He wasn’t wearing anything with parrots on it.

"Would you like some Mamajuana, too? Good stuff." The man pointed to a bottle of what looked like alcohol, shelved next to the rum.

"What is it?" Not that he had any intention of getting drunk. He wanted to remember every second of this.

"You drink it. We call it Dominican Viagra." The clerk winked. "Helps you last, if you know what I mean. If this doesn’t work, they say you should just go and kill yourself."

Did he look like he needed Viagra? What the hell. He was so hard he could moonlight as a woodpecker. Damien shook his head. "I don’t need any help, thanks." He handed over the six hundred pesos for the condoms, which he shoved in his pocket, and turned to find Mandy. She was biting her lip, arms over her chest, staring vacantly at a display of T-shirts.

"Have fun!" the clerk yelled with a knowing grin.

And people thought New Yorkers were rude.

Fortunately, he’d forgotten how to blush. But Mandy looked like she’d spent too long in the sun, so he took her hand and hustled her outside to the quiet walkway that lead to the main lobby.

And kissed her eagerly.

"Damien," she protested, trying to pull back. "There are people around."

"No, there aren’t. Not a single one." The path was deserted, everyone still down at the buffet, and it was lush with foliage, and thick with humidity in the glow of faux gas lamps.

But she was still darting her eyes around, hands pressed on his chest to hold him at bay. So Damien dropped his mouth to her forehead and gave her a soft kiss. "My room is in the first building on the right."

"Then it’s closer than mine. I’m by the adults-only pool." But she didn’t move in the direction he had pointed to. She worried her lip, and Damien watched her, waited for her to say what was on her mind. "I just want you to understand that I don’t usually… I don’t sleep around. I thought Ben really cared about me, and well, I’ve never really fancied one-night stands. But that’s all this can be, because I can’t get involved with anyone until I’ve sorted out my own life."

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