Desire September 2017 Books 1 -4. Yvonne Lindsay

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he regretted the space he had to create, if only for a moment. Quickly he covered himself with a condom, then worked his way inside of her. So tight. Incredibly hot. There was no way he could wait.

      He was overcome with an instinct to imprint her with his scent, his touch, in case she ever thought she could walk away. Where the possessive urges came from, he had no idea. They were unique to Jasmine. He couldn’t resist.

      As he gave his first long, slow thrust, he rubbed his body up hers. Never had full body contact felt so good. He felt her slick skin, alert nipples, harsh breath. Most of all, the clasp of her around him.

      He anchored his hands in her hair. Then he started to thrust in earnest. The strain in his thighs, the twist of his hips, didn’t seem to be enough. Her nimble legs encircled his hips, urging him to thrust harder. Faster.

      He attuned his senses to her body’s responses. Not just her breath and the lift of her hips, but the subtle clutch of her muscles around his hardness. He nurtured every hint of ecstasy until she called his name in the darkness. They worked together until Royce thought his heart would explode. But he couldn’t let go until she did.

      Shifting his angle, he ground against the soft cushion of her mound with his pelvis. Her breath caught. Her neck arched. Her hold on him tightened. Then there was the extra force that threw her over the edge.

      Her incredible cries filled his ears as her body clamped down hard and milked him dry. There was no denying the demand for him to join her.

      Now or ever again.

      * * *

      “I haven’t seen you in three days,” Royce pointed out. With some men, the reminder would have been a whine. With him, it was a simple logical statement. Until he got to the question. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

      In this instance, the complications were all on Jasmine’s side. Not Royce’s. Most men would have been trying to find ways to keep a woman at arm’s length. Not this time.

      Much to her surprise.

      She wanted to sigh as she glanced over the planner on the desk before her. She wished it wasn’t overflowing with Willow’s classes, Ivy’s job and blocks of time that she really needed a sitter for Rosie. Facts were facts. She should have known life would interfere with the blissful two weeks she’d spent exploring the incredibly sensual side of Royce Brazier—but she couldn’t keep business and her personal life separate forever.

      She’d never been good at juggling.

      But business wasn’t even the right word. What she and Royce were doing in the luxurious bedroom of his penthouse had nothing to do with business. Still, she was doing her best to keep him and her family far away from each other. Royce had made it clear he wasn’t in the market for a family. She was a single woman with a small child. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was daddy hunting.

      For a man like him, the title of daddy would never be an option.

      “I just can’t get away tonight.” The planner clearly showed that Willow had a night class to teach. And Ivy had called to say she would probably be working late that night. Auntie was recovering nicely, but her abilities and stamina with a small child were limited. This left Jasmine between a rock and...well, a very lonely, needy place.

      Royce hesitated for only a moment. “Would your family object to me dropping by?”

      “Why would you?”

      Silence greeted her unexpected question, but only for a moment. Just long enough for her to feel mortified.

      “Believe it or not, Jasmine,” Royce said, without any of the angry heat she would have expected, “I do enjoy more about you than just the sex.”

      Jasmine almost choked.

      “And they have met me before,” he reminded her.

      Not as a potential suitor. At least, in her eyes. This visit just might confirm what her family was expecting...except Jasmine knew her liaison with Royce could never live up to the romantic fantasy they would build in their minds.

      When she finally answered, her voice sounded small. “It just didn’t occur to me you would want to come by.”

      “Jasmine.” His voice deepened, almost a reflection of the turmoil rumbling around inside of her. “I’m finding, to my surprise, that I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

      Royce always was one to tell the truth, whether the other person wanted to hear it or not. The sheer enormity of his confession shut her up quick. They agreed on a time for him to drop by.

      The bewilderment and need in his voice were still eliciting tremors later that evening as she waited for him to arrive. Mostly because they echoed her own feelings.

      She found her attachment to Royce too close for comfort. Her craving for him only grew each time they were together. She wanted to bounce ideas off him at odd times. She even wished she could spar with him on occasion. Talking to him. Cooking with him. Making love with him. He never failed to stimulate her in some way—in all the ways that mattered.

      But he wasn’t a family man—had no desire to ever be one. So her need for him to be more than he could offer scared her more than anything.

      Her hands still shook as she opened the door that evening. It should have been a scene from a romantic movie—a handsome man on her doorstep with blooming trees filling the background behind him as the sun set. Instead, it could have been the boogeyman at her door, if her feelings of trepidation were to be believed.

      “Hey,” she greeted him, her voice hushed.

      “Hey, yourself.” He matched his tone to hers as he glanced behind her. “Are we having a secret liaison on your doorstep or is there something I need to know?”

      That would have been funny if she hadn’t actually been keeping her family in the dark as much as possible since that night two weeks ago. Still, she tried for an amused grin, ignoring her nerves.

      “No. Auntie and Rosie fell asleep.”

      Letting him in, she gestured toward the entrance to the family room, where Auntie could be seen lying propped up with lots of pillows on the couch. Rosie reclined against her, pacifier in place, blanket snuggled close. There was a cartoon on the TV turned to a low volume.

      “They were watching television together. But Rosie seems to have caught Auntie’s tendency to take cat naps now that she’s having to rest her leg so much.”

      Royce studied the sleeping pair, though Jasmine couldn’t read his expression. “She looks peaceful.”

      She assumed he meant Rosie. “She’s a good baby. I’m very, very lucky.”

      He turned back. “So am I, hopefully.”

      Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “Trust me. There’s not enough time for sex.”

      Royce quickly smothered a laugh. “I guessed that much. But is a proper hello too much to ask for?”

      Jasmine’s cheeks burned. Shame on her for accusing him of only having sex on the brain.

      Leading

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