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A Baby for the Billionaire(57)

By:Victoria Davies


Even his refusal to ever enter a permanent relationship. Having witnessed what dashed love could do to a person firsthand, it made sense that a man as logical as Walker would do everything in his power to avoid that fate.

But we are more than his parents.

Maybe someday he’d believe her.

“I’m proud of you,” she said, framing his face with her hands. “Proud of who you were able to become.”

His hand rose to hers. “I’ve never told anyone about my childhood.”

“Me, neither. I wanted to forget I was ever that helpless person begging for crumbs of affection.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yeah.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “But maybe we can help each other forget.”

“I’m all for trying that out,” he said, leaning closer.

Examining her own recollections, she realized he was right. If her mother hadn’t used her as cheap labor, she would never have known how to handle babies. Which meant she would have been useless to help Hunter. The experiences she’d tried to bury had helped shape the woman she was today.

“If my past helped me find you,” she whispered, “how can I regret it?”

When his lips touched hers, she let her eyes flutter shut. Twining her arms around him, she let the worry go. All the pain from the past, the hold it had always had on her future, none of it was as important as the man next to her. When they touched, the world became so much simpler. Nothing mattered beyond the next few moments with him.

When he tumbled her backward onto the pillows she made no protest. After all the nights they’d shared, his body was becoming more known to her. Running her fingers through his hair, she teased the nape of his neck in the way that made his eyes burn for her. It wasn’t the only trick she’d learned. She loved to lightly rake her nails along his abdomen and feel the muscles tighten beneath her fingers. Or to run her lips down his spine, tasting the bronzed skin beneath her mouth.

Rolling him over to reverse their positions, she straddled his hips. Deft fingers raced down the buttons of his shirt, which she parted with a satisfied sigh.

“When will I get enough of you?” she asked, sliding her hand over his bare chest.

“If you figure it out, clue me in,” he said. Lust filled his gaze as he watched her play. “You’re too addicting for you own good.”

“Only to you,” she said, leaning down to lap a tongue over one nipple.

“Other men are morons,” he said, fisting his hands in the sheets.

“Maybe I should teach them the error of their ways,” she teased.

A hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back sharply enough to send a thrill through her without any real pain.

“Don’t you dare,” he ordered with heated eyes. “You’re all mine.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “That’s a two-way street, lover. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Deal.”

She rewarded him with a light kiss before he spun her under him.

“Off,” he said, pushing her T-shirt over her head. Her bra followed moments later.

“I don’t know why I even bother with underwear around you.” She sighed.

“Feel free to throw it all out,” he replied with a lecherous grin. “I’m totally fine with easy access.”

To prove his point, he reached under her skirt to strip off her panties. When she tried to wiggle out of the last piece of clothing, he stopped her.

“Leave the skirt on,” he said, his voice husky.

She glanced at the plaid print and arched a brow. “Have a schoolgirl fetish, do you?”

“Not yet. Ask me in the morning.”

Rising over her, he shrugged out of his own shirt and she forgot her complaints. Would she ever get used to the way her mouth went dry at the sight of him? Walker might call her addicting, but he had it all wrong. It was she who lost the power of thought when his clothes came off.

He bent to take one peaked nipple in his mouth and she bit her lip. Pleasure shot through her, pooling between her legs. Not that this feeling was anything new. All he had to do was walk into a room and she wanted to pull him toward the nearest bed. Or couch. Hell, the kitchen island held possibilities, too.

Anyway she could have him, she wanted. Over and over until she lost count of the ways they could explore each other.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he turned his attention to her other breast. “So mine.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Yours.”

For as long as they had together.

She undulated against him, locking one leg around his hips.

“Want something?” he teased, moving up her body till he could press his lips to her throat.