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Accidentally Pregnant By My Brother’s Billionaire Bestfriend

66.0K · Completed
Josine
46
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Summary

What started as a rebound from a cheating ex turns into a reckless fling with a hot and mysterious stranger, ending in humiliation. He's Josh Volkov: the ex-Navy Seal turned billionaire art dealer. The infamous blue-eyed playboy is trouble, and everything I've never wanted. Yet fate has a twisted sense of humor, entwining our paths when six months later, my brother helps me land a job at his best friend’s art gallery. I wasn't prepared to walk into the boss’s office and find my one-night stand in the executive chair. I can't stand the arrogant, dominant alpha, but being close to him sparks a dangerous temptation. After a business trip to Paris on his private jet, our chemistry ignites. Fiery exchanges turn into longing looks, passionate kisses, and more drama than a soap opera. I'm in over my head. But when I discover I'm pregnant, everything changes, and Josh gets cold feet. Amidst accusations and family drama, a tragic accident forces Josh to reconsider. But is it too late for us?

contemporaryRomancePregnantOne-night standSecond ChanceBillionaireCEOPossessiveIndependentBest Friend

1

Josh

She stands before me as bare as the truth.

Her hair cascades in long waves around her slender form. The soft studio lighting reflects off her glistening skin, giving her an almost otherworldly glow.

Her breasts are high, full, and round, with dark pink nipples tinged with arousal. She looks so alluring and tempting that I'm tempted to devour her on the spot. But l resist the urge, wiping sweat off my brow, smudging paint on my face in the process.

I pause, holding my brush aloft, my gaze alternating between my painting and the nude woman before me. She watches me with wide eyes, waiting for me to finish. I add a bit more paint to the canvas, letting out an appreciative sigh. She smiles, then laughs softly, causing me to chuckle, though it sounds more like a strangled cough.

"Are you finished?" she asks softly, her eyes fixed on my paint-splattered face. "Or do you need more time?" A hint of a smile plays on her lips, but I can't tear my gaze away from her chest. She glances down at herselt, turning slightly to give me a better view. My mouth starts to water at the sight.

Completing this painting will be quite the task.

Why am I doing this? Simple. A top client with deep pockets requested a nude painting of a"beautiful woman." Since Alya was available tonight, and we're already very familiar with each other's bodies, we decided to kill two birds with one stone and have her be my model. Actually, she insisted. She definitely didn't want me spending my evening with a different naked woman, so this makes the job easier.

"I might need forever. It's taking every ounce of control I can muster to stay focused on the painting and not take you right here, right now," I confess, meaning every word.

She blushes slightly at my admission. "Why wait?" She trails off suggestively, running her hand down her thigh. "Wouldn't it be easier to just...?" Her unspoken invitation hangs in the air, tempting me. Heaven help me. I have less than twenty-four hours to finish. At this rate, I'm doomed.

"This," I gesture toward the half-finished painting.

"This needs to be finished first, and you need to stay still."

The stool she's perched on creaks under her weight as she leans forward, her breasts bouncing against each other. I've seen enough naked women by now not to stare, but somehow I can't help it.

Alya has the kind of Hollywood goddess body that would make most models jealous, like something straight out of a magazine cover, with a face to match. High cheekbones, full lips, soft brown eyes, and thick lashes that enhance their allure. Rumor has it she's ninety percent plastic and liposuction, but I couldn't care less. A body like hers should be worshipped, not questioned.

"You've been at this for hours. We should take a break," she suggests, her voice low and raspy. I know she doesn't mean anything by it-or maybe she does-but her words send a surge of desire coursing through me, heating my blood. Maybe it's just me, but there's a hint of seduction in her tone.

"C'mon. Don't be such a workaholic."

"I have no choice. I'm sort of stuck, and I need to be done with this—"

She closes the distance between us before I can finish, pressing a finger to my lips.

"Shhh..." she whispers, leaning in and kissing me gently. My cock twitches in response. The damned thing has a mind of its own. Her eyes drift downward, landing on the erection straining against my pants, and she smiles.

The room heats up a few degrees as she traces the outline of my shaft with her thumb, causing it to twitch again. In one swift motion, she slips her hand into my pants and starts to massage my dick.

"See? He gets it. I didn't come all this way just to sit on a stool and have you paint me."

"No, you didn't. But we have an agreement, and we're sticking to it, please. I need to get this done as soon as possible and shipped off to the client," I manage to say, barely able to get the words out.

Even though everything in me urges to pull her closer, to kiss her and fuck her senseless, I remain firm. Can’t have her thinking I’m easy prey. I take her hand from inside my pants and off my erection, placing them at her sides.

“Okay fine, you win. But you’re gonna make up for this later.”

“Right. For now, you sit back while I finish up my painting.”

“Fine. Killjoy.”With that she returns to her seat while I turn my attention to my painting again, ignoring the fact that she’s watching me intently out of the corner of her eye. This isn’t my finest hour but I’ll fix this once I finish. I lean over my canvas and start again on the details of her body.

The slight curve of her hip bones, the smooth expanse of her abdomen, the dip of her stomach. I paint her as if she were a work of art, rather than flesh and bone. All of my concentration and focus comes crashing down when she spreads her legs apart, exposing a glimpse of thigh and calf, her perfect little triangle. A moan involuntarily escapes my throat at the erotic sight.

She bites her lower lip, obviously aware of what she’s doing to me, then grins at me wickedly but I refuse to acknowledge her actions, focusing on my painting instead. Her fingers twitch restlessly against the edge of the table top as she watches me paint, clearly enjoying the way she’s affecting me.

Then she spreads her legs open wider, reaches down with one hand and slowly starts to finger fuck herself, grasping her breast with her other hand and squeezing. The sound of her wet pussy and her low pitched moans are filling my ears and sending my libido into hyperdrive.

“Ah! Fuck it.”I say finally, standing up from my stool and turning away from my easel. She smiles at me, the corners of her lips curling up sensuously, her pale skin glowing with the afterglow of her pleasure. She stands slowly, swaying toward me.“Come here.”I tell her, moving my hand to cup the underside of her jaw, caressing her soft cheek as I bring our faces together, capturing her parted lips with mine.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”She murmurs teasingly, pulling back from me, her eyes sparkling with amusement and lust.

“You’re gonna pay for making me suffer like this.”

She shrugs, her bare shoulder brushing mine and goose bumps raise on my skin at the sensation.“Gladly.”

I groan and press my forehead against hers, inhaling deeply, breathing in her perfume. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla mixed together.

I grab her chin and kiss her again, deepening the kiss. Her tongue explores my mouth hungrily as her hands reach for the front of my shirt. I push her lightly back onto the table. There’s a dull thud as her legs hit the table. As soon as she’s seated, I remove my shirt, quickly tossing it aside. I climb on top of her, pinning her arms above her head on either side of her body.

“I’m in control here. You understand?”