The Beaumont Children. Sarah M. Anderson

her and Percy with him. “If it doesn’t work, then we’ll go to your plan.”

      He could do that. He could trust her enough to bring her under his roof. And once he had her there, then he could figure out which part of her story was the truth—or if she was still lying to him.

      For some reason that could only be described as self-destructive, he wanted to take her at her word.

      She leaned back to look at him. “And if it does?”

      Her eyes were wide—but not with fear. Instead, she looked hopeful. And hope looked good on her. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. “If it does, I’ll ask you to marry me again.”

      She leaned into his touch and exhaled through slightly parted lips. He’d kissed her to end the argument and remind her that he was in control, but instead of it dampening his desire for her, it’d only ramped it up. He needed her—only her. No one, not even sensual European women, could satisfy him like this woman did.

      “Two weeks?” she said softly, staring into his eyes.

      He could get lost in her light brown eyes. As corny as the sentiment was, it was true. “Yeah,” he said, his head dipping to meet hers. “That sounds good.”

      “Mmm,” was all she could say because by then, Byron was kissing her and she was kissing him back and there weren’t any more words, any more negotiations. There was just him and her, the way it had been. The way it should still be.

      The kiss deepened when she touched his lips with her tongue. It was a hesitant touch, as though she wasn’t sure what would happen next.

      Byron knew what he wanted to happen. He wanted to sweep her off her feet and carry her back to the bedroom and spend the rest of the night remembering what they’d once had. He didn’t want to think about betrayal and lies. He just wanted her.

      He swept his tongue into her mouth and felt her body respond. Old memories—good ones of the first time he’d kissed her—came rushing back. She’d been hesitant then, too. Now he knew it was because he was a Beaumont but back then he’d thought it was because she was sweet and innocent and afraid he’d push her too far. So he’d just kissed her good-night against the side of her car before she drove home alone.

      Which was what he should do now. He should kiss her long and hard and then remove himself from the apartment. He should go home and take care of business himself instead of burying his body into hers over and over again. He shouldn’t push his luck. Hell, he didn’t have much luck left to push.

      But Leona ran her fingers through his hair and leaned back, exposing her neck as she moaned, “Oh, Byron,” and he was lost. He would always be lost to her.

      He kissed her on the spot just under her ear and was rewarded with a shudder of pleasure. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered. “Do you want me?”

      She didn’t answer right away, so he kissed her again. Their tongues tangled as heat built between them. Every moment he spent holding her made it that much harder to walk away and soon he would barely be able to walk at all. But he didn’t care. If she brought him to his knees, so be it.

      “Tell me,” he demanded again. This time he took a step forward and pivoted, leaning her up against the counter. He slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her. Her body felt so good in his hands. “Tell me you want me.” As he said it, he tilted his knee forward and pushed her legs apart.

      She hadn’t let go of him, hadn’t pushed him away. Instead, she trailed her lips over his jaw and down his neck.

      He stepped into her and tilted his hips so his straining erection rubbed against her very center. Leona gasped at the contact. She jolted upright, her eyes even wider as she stared at him.

      This was it—the absolute last moment he could walk away from her tonight.

      He thrust against her a second time without taking his eyes off hers. Her mouth dropped open into a perfect O and he couldn’t help himself. He kissed her, unable to restrain the passion that was driving him forward over and over again.

      She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight. “You,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you.”

      That was all he needed. He lifted her off the counter and carried her down the short hallway to her bedroom. Each step drove him against her, harder and harder, so that by the time he managed to kick the door shut behind them, she was moaning in his ear. “Byron—oh, Byron.”

      He all but threw her onto the bed. “Babe,” he groaned as he covered her body with his. A nagging thought in the back of his brain told him it’d be a good idea to take this seduction and bedding slowly—that he should do it right.

      But then Leona dug the tips of her fingernails into his back and the sensation drove any lingering rational thought from his mind.

      He sat back on his knees and pulled her up enough that he could strip off her shirt. Then he traced the pads of his fingers over her skin and around her nipples. The little pink buds stiffened at his touch and he grinned.

      Leona lay back, her hands over her head. “It’s not—You’re not weirded out, are you?”

      “Nope. Your breasts are amazing. Your body is amazing.” He flicked his fingers over the hard tips.

      “It’s not the same,” she said and he heard the concern in her tone. “Everything changed. I’m not the same girl you remember.”

      “I know.” He snagged the waistband of her pants. “You’re better. You’re a woman now.” With that, he pulled.

      Her pants peeled right off her legs and then she was in nothing but a pair of white cotton panties. Keeping one hand on her breast, he moved down. He pushed her legs apart and lowered himself onto her. He pulled the panties aside and kissed her on her sex. “Not so different,” he murmured. He inhaled her scent deeply and everything he’d tried to forget for a year came crashing back on him. “Oh, babe,” he said before he licked her.

      Leona’s body shook at his touch as she moaned. Her legs tried to close around him but he used his free hand to hold her open as he worked on her body. “Yeah, that’s it,” he whispered against her skin as her back arched. “You’re so beautiful.”

      “Need...more,” she ground out through clenched teeth.

      “All you had to do was ask.” He released his hold on her breast and trailed his hand over her stomach until he got both hands into the elastic waistband of her panties. He pulled them down and Leona kicked free.

      She was completely open to him now. She held her hands over her stomach but he pried them away. There, permanently etched into her skin, were pale pink lines that hadn’t been there before.

      “Byron,” she said in a trembling voice, as if she were waiting for pain to hit.

      “Beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed the stretch marks. She’d brought his son into this world with her body and he wanted to show her just how much he appreciated that.

      So, even though he was about to bust out of his jeans, he took the time to kiss all of her stretch marks before moving lower a second time. He pressed his mouth against her again. This time, he didn’t do tender or gentle. This time, he was hell-bent on bringing her right up to the edge and then pushing her over. He looped his arms around her legs and pulled her up so he had a better angle.

      She tangled her fingers into his hair, pulling it loose from the low ponytail. “Oh, Byron,” she gasped quietly.

      “You still need more?”

      “Please,” she got out in a high voice filled with need. “Please, Byron.”

      He couldn’t help but grin. “This is how much I missed you,” he murmured as he slipped a finger inside of her. She moaned in pleasure as he stroked her and licked her and kissed her.

      “Yes,” she whispered. She let