The Beaumont Brothers: Not the Boss's Baby. Sarah M. Anderson
Over and over he plunged into her welcoming body. Over and over, waves of emotion flooded his mind.
Now that he was with her, he felt more authentic than he had in years—maybe ever. The closest he’d ever come to feeling real was the year he’d spent making beer. The brewmasters hadn’t treated him with distrust, as so many people in the other departments had. They’d treated him like a regular guy.
Serena worked hard for him, but she’d never done so with the simpering air of a sycophant. Had never treated him like he was a stepping stool to bigger and better things.
This was real, too. The way her body took his in, the way he made her moan—the way he wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go....
Without closing her eyes—without breaking the contact between them—she made a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat as she tightened on his body then collapsed back against her pillow.
He drove hard as his climax roared through his ears so loudly that it blotted out everything but Serena. Her eyes, her face, her body. Her.
He wanted her. He always had.
This didn’t change anything.
“Serena...” He wanted to tell her he loved her, but then what did that mean? Was he actually in love with her? What he felt for her was far stronger than anything he’d ever felt for another woman, but did that mean it was love?
So he bit his tongue and pulled her into his arms, burying his face into her hair.
“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Tonight. In my bed.”
“Yes.” That was all he needed right now. Her, in his arms.
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