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“Hard pass on marrying a man who doesn’t love me.”

“Maybe you can convince Dima to love you.” He caps the pen. “I’ll send you a great wedding gift.”

I glare at him.

“You’ll have your own home, which I’ll provide, and live a happy life with our child. We’ll share custody. I get Christmas. You get Thanksgiving.” He says everything so smugly, as if he knows I’ll cave.

“I want Christmas.”

“See, we’re already off to a great co-parenting start. Arguing over custody.”

I relax when he sits down. “Let’s assume Idoagree to this. How do I get pregnant?”

He cocks his head. “You do know how babies are made, correct?”

I so badly want to saystorks, but this isn’t the time for a jokey-joke. “Yes, but I mean, how willwe…” I pause, my words dropping in the tense air.

“I’d prefer to fuck you. The fewer people involved, the better.”

Every single nerve in my body lights on fire with the way he saidfuck.

It’s like he wanted to get me pregnant with that word alone, along with how he’s looking at me.

“But if you feel more comfortable going another route, we can.” His lips twitch into a devilish smirk. “Though it’s already been proven you enjoy me touching your pussy.”

My cheeks burn hot as I remember that night, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t act like you weren’t into it either. I saw your face when I orgasmed.”

“Good news then. It appears we’re compatible, and we can make our baby the natural way.” He pours another round of drinks and raises his glass again, as if closing a business deal. “I’ll make sure you come every time. It’s a win-win for you, Gen.”

“Not really. You never finished the job,” I say with a smirk.

He works his jaw. “Genesis, had we not been in public, I’d have had you on your knees, choking on my cock.”

He points at me with his glass, and I take a nervous drink.

Then, I choke.

On my drink, not his cock.

Though it’s terrible timing.

“If you’re trying to sound romantic, that won’t work,” I say when I gain control of my voice.

“I’m not trying to romance you. This is strictly business.” He inches back, as if proving his point.

The man might fuck me, but he’ll never love me.

What a dream man.

“It seems my only options are either you or Dima.”

“Or death,” he hums, taking a sip of his bourbon.

I sigh, my head spinning. “I need time to process and reread this.”

He draws back some. “You don’t trust me?”

“You’re blackmailing me into having your baby.”