

Description
Kitty Morrow has a plan. Graduate top of her class at NYU Stern. Land the perfect internship. Never, ever repeat her single mother's mistakes. One drunken bathroom hookup with Damon Ashford-her insufferable classmate and billionaire heir-destroys all three. Two pink lines later, Kitty's ready to handle this "problem" quietly. But the Ashford family doesn't do quiet. Damon's ruthless father crashes her abortion appointment with an offer she can't refuse: marry his son, keep the baby, and never worry about money again. Now Kitty's living in a mansion with a husband who can barely look at her, a stepmother-in-law who wants her gone, and Damon's older brother Christopher-who's everything Damon isn't. Steady. Present. Dangerously tempting. As the wedding approaches and her belly grows, Kitty discovers the Ashfords play games she doesn't understand. The contract she signed without reading. The family secrets everyone's hiding. And the terrifying possibility that she's not the player in this game-she's the prize.
Chapter 1
Jan 21, 2026
POV Kitty
The bass thumped through my chest like a second heartbeat, and for once, I didn't mind the chaos.
The Apex Young Innovators Grant notification had hit my inbox three days ago, but I was still riding the high—a competitive national award, a guaranteed internship, and proof that Kitty Morrow was more than her zip code.
More than her mother's cautionary tale.
Tonight, I was just a college sophomore who'd won something I deserved.
"You're smiling," Brianna observed, pressing another drink into my hand. Her natural curls bounced as she leaned closer. "Like, actually smiling. Not your 'I'm tolerating this' smile."
"Don't get used to it." I took a long sip, the alcohol warm and welcome. "Tomorrow I go back to being insufferable."
"Girl, you're insufferable every day. It's part of your charm." She clinked her cup against mine, grinning wide enough to show all her teeth. "But tonight? Tonight, you're going to do something fun. Something reckless."
I narrowed my eyes. "I don't like where this is going…"
"You're going to have a one-night stand!"
The laugh escaped before I could stop it. "Absolutely not. That's pointless and messy, and I don't do pointless and messy."
"Kitty." Brianna grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face her fully. "Do you remember what you told me three months ago? When we were drunk on cheap wine in my dorm room, and you got all philosophical about your nonexistent sex life?"
I did remember.
Unfortunately.
"You said, and I quote, 'I've always been curious about casual sex, but I'm too controlled to ever actually pursue it. It's like this thing I'll never let myself have because I'm terrified of losing grip for even one second.'"
She released my shoulders with a triumphant flourish.
"Your words, not mine."
"I was dramatic."
"You were honest. For once." She softened slightly, her voice losing its teasing edge. "Look, you've spent your entire life being perfect. Straight A's, scholarships, grants, internships. But when was the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”
The question landed harder than I expected. Especially because I couldn't answer it.
"One night," Brianna continued. "Find someone hot, have some fun, and forget about it by morning. No strings, no consequences, no overthinking."
The alcohol was making her words sound almost reasonable.
That should have been my first warning sign.
"Fine." I drained my cup and set it down with more force than necessary. "But I'm treating this like an assignment."
"That's the least sexy thing anyone has ever said about sex, but I'll take it."
I surveyed the party with clinical precision, and my gaze snagged on a figure near the kitchen. I almost laughed at the cosmic joke the universe was playing.
Damon Ashford. Of course.
He was leaning against the counter with the effortless ease of someone who'd never had to try hard for anything in his life.
Tousled black hair, designer clothes masquerading as casual, silver rings catching the light as he gestured through some story that had his audience laughing.
The youngest heir to the Ashford fortune, my classmate at Stern, and quite possibly the most irritating person I'd ever met.
We'd clashed in class more times than I could count. He'd challenge my answers not because he disagreed, but because he found my intensity amusing.
He'd show up late, half-prepared, and still charm his way through presentations while I spent weeks perfecting mine.
He was everything I resented—careless, privileged, coasting on a name he didn't earn. And yet tonight, with the alcohol softening my usual sharp edges, I could admit that he had a face worth looking at.
"Him," I said, already moving before Brianna could respond.
Her voice followed me, equal parts shocked and delighted. "Damon Ashford? Kitty, you hate him!"
"Exactly."
I crossed the room, planting myself in front of him without preamble. His eyebrows shot up, surprise flickering across his features before settling into something more intrigued.
"Well, well. Kitty Morrow at a party. Did hell freeze over, or did you finally finish color-coding your entire semester?" His smirk was annoyingly attractive.
"Hilarious. Do you practice being this charming, or does it come naturally with the trust fund?"
"Natural talent, I'm afraid." He tilted his head, studying me with renewed interest. "You're drunk."
"Observant. No wonder you're passing Microeconomics."
"And mean." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "So what brings you here? Finally ready to admit you find me devastatingly attractive?"
"I find you devastatingly mediocre. But you're here, and I'm bored, and I'm trying something new tonight." I met his gaze directly, letting the implication hang between us. "Interested?"
Something shifted in his expression—surprise giving way to heat. "Are you serious right now?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
He didn't need to answer.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the hallway, navigating through bodies until I found what I was looking for—a single-stall bathroom with a lock on the door.
The moment the door clicked shut behind us, whatever tension had been building finally snapped.
His mouth crashed into mine, hungry and demanding. I kissed him back just as fiercely, teeth grazing his bottom lip, fingers fisting in his shirt. Damon tasted like whiskey and bad decisions, and I wanted more of both.
"Didn't know you had this in you," he breathed against my jaw, hands sliding down my sides.
"There's a lot you don't know about me." I yanked his shirt over his head, nails dragging down his chest. "Stop talking."
He laughed, low and dark, then lifted me onto the sink counter in one fluid motion.
My legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer. His mouth found my neck, teeth scraping sensitive skin, and I arched into him with a gasp I couldn't suppress.
"Quiet, Kitty," he murmured against my throat. "Unless you want the whole party to hear you."
"Shut up and make it worth my time."
His hands pushed my dress up my thighs, fingers teasing along the edge of my underwear. I reached between us, palming him through his jeans, and his groan vibrated against my collarbone.
"Fuck," he hissed. "You really don't waste time."
"Life's too short." I unzipped him, wrapping my hand around his length. He was hard and hot, and something primal coiled tight in my belly. "I'm on birth control. Don't worry about protection."
He didn't question it. Neither did I.
He pushed my underwear aside and thrust into me, and I bit down on his shoulder to muffle the moan that tore from my throat.
He filled me completely, stretched me perfectly, and for one blinding second, my overworked brain went absolutely silent.
"God, you feel…" He didn't finish, couldn't finish, just pulled back and drove into me again.
I matched his rhythm, hips rolling to meet each thrust, fingers digging into his back hard enough to leave marks. The counter's edge bit into my thighs.
Someone knocked on the door once, then gave up.
None of it mattered.
"Harder," I demanded, and Damon obeyed, one hand bracing against the mirror behind me, the other gripping my hip tight enough to bruise. The new angle made me moan louder.
The climax hit me like a wave, crashing hard and sudden. I shattered around Damon, trembling, gasping his name like a curse. He followed seconds later, burying himself deep with a groan that echoed off the tile walls.
Silence. Heavy breathing. The slow return of reality.
Damon leaned back, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "Never thought our miss know-it-all would be the first person I slept with this year."
The warmth drained from my expression. I straightened my dress, smoothed my hair, rebuilt my walls. "Don't think about it too much, okay? It was a one-time thing."
He shrugged, utterly unoffended. "Works for me."
We parted without ceremony. Brianna waited near the exit, and I deflected her questions with practiced ease.
Mission accomplished. Moving on.
Humping Damon Ashford was fun, but it’s already in the past.

One Night, Nine Months, Forever
30 Chapters
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