Billionaire Bodyguard 1 : Billionaire Bodyguard(50)

CHAPTER 9

Allison curled against Logan's warm body in bed next to her. As dawn peeked through the trees like wispy lace, she tried to reclaim the beautiful dream she'd woken from minutes ago.

It was Thanksgiving morning, and she had a thousand things to do before his family and friends showed up on their doorstep. Instead of leaping into action, she found herself clinging to the last threads of a fading vision.

In the dream, she'd been sleeping beside Logan as she was now. Then she'd heard a soft cry from the corner of the bedroom. She'd moved with a somnambulist's ease toward the tiny cries, lingering at the edge of a crib. A baby-her baby-looked up at her with wide green eyes, a mirror of her own. He had a faint dimple in his cheek like Logan's, and a tuft of dark blonde hair. The infant stretched its tiny arms toward her with absolute trust, angel-dust innocence. She reached in and then cradled its perfect weight against her breasts. She smoothed his hair, cooing and whispering as she rocked him in her arms. A boy … her baby boy …

Logan stirred beside her, rolling over and clamping her in his arms. He threw a muscular leg over her thighs, nuzzling his face against her neck.

"We're having a boy," she whispered.

Logan murmured incoherently and began kissing her throat. She felt him go rock-hard against her hip.

"Did you hear what I said?" She shoved at her lover's shoulders. "I had a dream about the baby. I think it's going to be a boy."

"Good." His trailed kisses along her jaw.

"Are you listening to me? Don't you think that's incredible?"

He eased his naked body over hers. "You're incredible."

"Logan, stop." She tried to pull away, knowing the effort of playing hostess that lay in store for her today.

Without budging, he smiled shamelessly. "I told you to quit giving me challenges."

She rolled her eyes. "Please?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely … " He dragged his open mouth on a meandering course down her body.

Her second push was half-hearted. "That's not what I meant!"




 



"I think it is." He swirled his tongue through her cleavage. "I'll prove it to you."

"Seriously, our guests will be here in three hours." Panic began to creep over her.

"They can wait."

"Logan!"

"I've made arrangements."

"But I promised to make the turkey. And an apple pie."

"Uh-huh." He sipped the tender skin above her navel. "I've seen-and tasted-your idea of cooking. I have my personal chef on speed dial."

"Hey." Indignantly, she sat up to protest. Which caused his face to land right in her lap. "I've been improving."

Grinning wickedly, he murmured, "Yes, you have."

He wasn't talking about her culinary skills. He parted her thighs to accommodate his big shoulders.

"You are terrible." She giggled as his breath tickled her intimately.

"So sorry you have to put up with me." He blew a cool stream of air against her hot core.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"Nope." His eyes burned with sexual heat. "But you can try."

That was a perpetually lost cause. Giving over to him, she eased down to the pillows. She inhaled sharply as his tongue met her folds. He tasted her with patient persistence. He took her to the edge once, twice. Her fists clenched in the bed sheets. Then he slowed his pace, drawing out her desperate need.

She sighed. "Mmm. So good."

She'd never felt more in sync with a man. She flung her arms up over her head, rolling her hips toward his mouth as he flicked and swirled, drawing on her until every muscle in her body flexed, tightening, waiting …

"That's it. Don't stop," she whimpered. Her core lit up white-hot. "Don't stop." She gripped the pillow.

Accelerating to peak, she came against his mouth.

"Yes!" she screamed, writhed in piercing ecstasy. He stayed there until her tremors became light shivers.

Then he climbed up her body. Their faces level, he eased into her swollen heat.

He threaded his fingers through hers above her head. He rocked with her, their undulating movements bringing them close, more intimate than she'd thought possible. She wrapped her legs around his waist. He thrust deeper, riding them toward release. She bit her lip, spasmed around him. She was shaking and weightless, floating away on tides of bliss. He shouted his release and shivered above her.

Relaxed and spent, she held him close. As close as she dared to let anyone.

Releasing her hands, he straightened his arms, his chest a glorious expanse above her. He shook his head as if to clear it. He got his breathing under control. Then he stared down at her, cinnamon eyes still smoldering. "Round two, in the shower."