The Beaumont Children: His Son, Her Secret

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 go of his hair and pulled his face up so she could look him in the eye. “More. Need more.”

“This?” he asked, slipping a second finger into her. “Is this what you want?”

Her mouth dropped open again, but she shook her head no.

“Tell me what you want, Leona. I need to hear the words.” He didn’t know why, but he did. No misunderstandings this time—just the truth between them. The truth he’d never been able to deny.

“I want you—all of you,” she whispered. “Make love to me, Byron. Please.”

He hopped off the bed to shuck his jeans. He had a condom in his wallet. He dug around until he found it, which took a few minutes because Leona had leaned forward and pressed her lips to his tip. He groaned in the small space between the pleasure of her mouth on his erection and the pain of needing to hold back his climax. “Babe, please.”

As she lifted her eyes to look at him, her other hand cupped him. Too much—she was too much. “Babe,” he said in warning. He didn’t want to lose it before he’d shown her how good it could still be between them and he didn’t know how much time they had before the baby awoke or her sister came back. “Let me do this for you.”

With his last bit of self-control, he pushed her away—at least, far enough away that he could roll the condom on. Then he climbed back onto the bed, back between her legs, and lowered himself to her. “You still like it like this?” he asked as he tucked her knees under his arms and pinned her to the bed.

“I think so. I’ll let you know.” Then she licked his lips and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

He fit himself against her and plunged into her body. She was so wet and ready for him, as though she’d been waiting for just this moment, too. He buried himself in her and kissed her and thought, I’ve finally come home.

“Yes,” she hissed as he drove into her again and again. “Still like that. Harder.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was all he could say. He had to focus on holding off his climax until she’d come. He had to show her how good he could be for her—to her.

So he thrust in harder and harder until the bed was squeaking and she was moaning and all he could see and feel and hear and taste was Leona. His Leona.

“Oh—oh!” she gasped as he gave her everything he had. Her body clenched down on his and her head came off the pillow and as the climax took her, he kissed her and kept thrusting while she rode it out.

Then she fell back onto the bed and his climax began to roar through his blood. Then—unexpectedly—something changed. The sensation surrounding his erection shifted. Deepened.

He tried to pull out but it was too late. He’d come—and the condom had broken.

Oh, hell.

“What?” Leona panted when Byron pulled away from her.

“I lost the condom,” he said in a state of shock.

“Oh.” Leona hopped out of bed and basically ran for the bathroom.

Byron sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and threw the remains of the useless condom into the trash. For the love of everything holy—he’d barely gotten used to the idea of being a father to one. Was he already on his way to being a father of two?

Stupid. He shouldn’t have used an old condom, shouldn’t have kept it in his wallet. He shouldn’t have taken Leona to bed, not yet.

But this was how it always seemed to happen with her—he couldn’t help himself. He’d wanted to show her how good they could be together and instead?

He’d set them both up for another pregnancy scare. What a freaking mess.

Maybe she was right. Maybe they shouldn’t live together, shouldn’t get married. Because this was how it was going to be. They’d always be walking the thin line between love and disaster.

The only difference was that, at least this time, he knew when they’d crossed that line.

Leona walked back into the bedroom, head down, arms crossed over her bare breasts. “Come here,” he told her, pulling her onto his lap.

She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Might not be anything, after all.”

“Might not,” he agreed, trying to sound optimistic.

“This doesn’t change the plans,” she added. “Two-week trial.”

“Are you sure?” He kissed her cheek. “Because, right up until the end there, I was... Well, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you.” That got him a small smile. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to keep my hands off you, Leona,” he said in all seriousness as he stroked her hair. “Not even for two weeks.”

“I wish...”

“Yes?”

She leaned into him and sighed. “I wish I knew if that was a good thing or bad thing.”