Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  My father pulled back and clapped me on the shoulder. “You care for this young lady?”

  My mother had since taken residence beside my father. I looked over at Daisy and held my hand out for her to take it. She stood and I pulled her in close. “I do. I care for her a lot.” I looked over at my mother and father. “I want her in my life and I'm keeping it that way.”

  I don’t know if I expected my father to argue over the fact she was of “lower class” than us, which seemed an out dated and almost barbaric way of thinking. But the smile he gave me did shock me. It was filled with acceptance and understanding. In that moment I felt horrible for thinking that my parents wouldn't see how happy I was, and understand that this is what I wanted.

  I didn't know what the future held, but I wanted to experience it all with Daisy.

  * * *

  Daisy

  One month later

  I knew people watched, that there were cameras on us, but I didn't care. In this moment it was just Lennon and I, both of us getting to know each other, learning about the other, and taking in the fact this was our life.

  “Are they bothering you?” Lennon asked and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in closer. “We can leave, go someplace more secluded?”

  I didn't know if Lennon was speaking about the guards that had accompanied us to the park, or the tabloids that I knew were placed around us, partially hidden from view.

  I turned and faced Lennon and smiled, not wanting them to interfere with us. “They don't bother me if they don't bother you.” And then I cupped his face and brought him in closer. I slanted my mouth on his and really gave the cameras a show.

  Our little display of affection would probably be on the front paper tomorrow morning, but I didn't care. Let them see. Let them know how much I loved this man, how much he consumed me.

  I might not have ever envisioned myself with Lennon, maybe even thinking I wasn't worthy of his attention or affection. But now that he was in my life I wanted the world to know that my feelings for him were genuine, true.

  We parted at the same time and Lennon smiled at me. “I could really give them something to take pictures of if I didn't think it would humiliate you.” He started laughing softly and I could only shake my head, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Nothing you could do could embarrass me. And I don't care about the tabloids. I don't care what anyone thinks about me. All I care about is the next day we have together.” Maybe what I said was sappy, but I didn't care. I was on cloud nine with Lennon.

  I finally found the puzzle piece that I had been missing in my life. I finally found another person who knew me, who could look into my eyes and know how I felt without me saying a word.

  Sure, the coupling we’d shared had been instant, fast. But it had felt so right. It had felt like I finally found what I had been missing. And I knew Lennon felt same way.

  As Lennon had said before, fuck anyone who thought we shouldn't belong together.

  Epilogue

  Lennon

  Five years later

  She was mine now and forever. I pulled her close, and inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of her filling lungs, imprinting in my every cells, the marrow deep in my bones.

  Daisy rested her head against me, fitting perfectly right up against my chest. Our bodies were sweaty, the act of me fucking her, taking her … claiming her still covering both of us. Everyday, every minutes, hell, every seconds I wanted to show her with my body that I was hers the same as she was mine.

  I smoothed my hand down her arm, slipped my fingers through hers, and lifted her hand. I’d married Daisy two years ago, the ceremony grand, royal, of course. But we’d just been two people, neither of us better than the other, both of us just madly in love. We’d waited, planned, made sure everything was set it, before we’d said our vows.

  I’d wanted her to get to know me, the real me, and I’d wanted to learn everything I could about Daisy. I’d wanted us to be as close as two people could be.

  I stared at the ring, smoothing my finger over the rock, along her skin, and down her digit. I’d picked this one out especially for her—had it custom made, wanted it unique, the same way she was to me.

  Everything I did was for her.

  I would have married her the night I had her in my bed. But I’d waited, let her get to know the real me, learned everything I could about Daisy, and then I made her mine.

  I could hear her breath become even, slow, and knew she was falling asleep. Having her close to me, right up against my body, knowing she was safe … mine, was perfection.

  I slid my hand over to her belly and spanned the flat surface with my palm. For a second all I did was feel her stomach moving up and down gently as she breathed. “I love you,” I whispered, not knowing if she’d hear, but wanting her to know.

  She shifted and turned in my arms, ad opened her eyes slowly. I cupped the side of her face, her skin warm, soft. She lifted her hand and placed it over mine, which was still on her cheek.

  “Let’s have a baby,” I said, the words spilling out on their own. Moving my hand away from her face, I slid it down her side, skimmed my fingers along the curve and arch of her waist and hip, and moved it so my hand was on her belly. “What do you think?”

  “A baby?”

  “A baby,” I said and smiled.

  She lifted her head and stared at me. “I want that.”

  I grinned, feeling so elated I couldn’t even contain it. I rolled on top of her, my cock hard, my body ready for her. I was always ready for her, always needing to make her feel so fucking good.

  “Spread for me, baby. Let me make you feel good again.” When she was in position I settled between her legs. She was wet, so damn wet for me but it was a combination of her arousal and my cum. The fact my seed slipped from the tight confines of her body turned me on, made me feel possessive, feral even.

  “I love you so fucking much,” I murmured. I ran my nose up the arch of her neck, inhaling that sweet scent that always surrounded her. I growled in approval at the fact she smelled just like me.

  “I love you too,” she gasped out because right when she said that I aligned by cock with her pussy and shoved in deeply.

  My movements were slow, gentle even. I pulled back and looked into her face. God, I was the luckiest man on the fucking planet.

  “Lennon,” she breathed my name out. Daisy arched her chest and closed her eyes, the pleasure clear on her expression.

  I thrust into her over and over again. Daisy moaned my name, and I grunted in response.

  I kissed her then, claiming her mouth, her body, her very soul. She owned every part of me, had from the moment I saw her and knew I wanted her in my life, fuck everyone else and what they might think.

  It didn’t matter how much money we had, how well known we were, I was lucky to have Daisy in my life.

  I don’t know what I did to deserve her, but I was never letting go.

  * * *

  Lennon

  And baby makes three

  Watching my wife, the woman I loved more than anything else, feeding our child, had this warmth spreading through me.

  I leaned against the wall, my heart filled as Daisy hummed to our baby girl Lana. I’d never thought I could love someone as much as Daisy, but after Lana came into our lives I finally knew what being complete really was.

  My girls.

  My life.

  I stayed there for five minutes, just watching Daisy, just absorbing up the sight, the sounds, the feelings. Daisy finished up the feeding and smiled down and Lana, who had fallen asleep. Daisy put her in the bed and came over to me, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into my arms.

  Our life had been pretty perfect, so day wonderful that I was glad we could have this life, could be together. We’d moved about an hour from the palace, our estate having been in the family for generations. It was perfect for us, with rolling hills and open lands, with a little farm for Daisy and I to immerse ourselves in and get
relaxed.

  It was our little part of heaven.

  I took her to our room since it was late, just wanted to hold her, to let her know she was always loved, safe, and protected. Once in the room I turned her around and started helping her out of her clothes. This wasn’t about sex. This was about making her feel comfortable, letting her relax while I did everything else.

  I cupped her cheeks, stared into her eyes, and smiled. “If I could marry you again start from the beginning and prove to you over and over that you were mine, I’ do it in an instant.” She gave me the sweetest fucking smile. “I fall in love with you everyday.” I pulled her against me even more, held the back of her head, and just let the feelings embrace me. I pulled back and leaned down and kissed her until she was breathless and clinging to me. I lifted her in my arms and carried her to our bed, telling myself I shouldn’t be about to ravish her, but unable to stop myself.

  She breathed out, wrapped her arms around me. This was what life was about. This was what living meant. Royalty or not, I was glad I’d followed my heart and not followed the path everyone else had set out for me.

  Daisy was mine, and always would be.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading IF YOU WERE MINE! You can find another sexy, possessive royal hero in my book FOR THE KING, available now!

  I was her King, a ruthless and brutal ruler who didn’t back down…

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  BARE ASS IN LOVE

  SASHA BURKE

  1

  | JASON |

  MONDAY

  (Time: 1:53 a.m.)

  I kick off the sheets and glare at my alarm clock. It’s still fucking dark out and I know that knock. It’s the same frenzied little knock she’s done every other time she’s gotten me up at a ridiculous hour.

  After a month and a half of this, you’d think I’d be used to dragging my ass out of bed in the middle of the night because my construction manager is losing her shit over some detail of a job. Doesn’t keep me from being grouchy as hell over it though.

  I jerk open the door to find her standing there. Summer Davis. Yes, she’s every damn bit as pretty as her name.

  Per usual, her hair is in a messy bun with a couple of pencils stuck in it. And per usual for this hour, she’s flushed and out of breath from her run up the four flights of stairs to get here.

  With the elevator access to my penthouse floor automatically redirecting the rider back down to the lobby for clearance from the front desk, and Summer somehow managing to convince my night manager to risk early retirement by waking me up over a half dozen times her first two weeks after moving in, I decided to just give the woman her own security access code to get onto my floor via the fire escape stairwell.

  She’s now accessed it so many times my building security doesn’t even bother to check with me after she codes in anymore. They assure me that they watch her on their monitors until I let her in though.

  Mostly for non-security reasons, I’m sure.

  Meaning they’re probably zoomed in on her heaving chest right now.

  I cut a dark look up at the snowglobe surveillance cam bolted to the ceiling near the elevator and almost crack a grin when the electronic eyeball instantly whirs into motion, jerking to a new vantage angle as far away from my front door as possible.

  Miracle of miracles, at least tonight she’s got on something other than those white button-down men’s shirts she wears to sleep—and more often than not, goes down to the lobby to sign for UPS deliveries in…sans anything underneath but panties.

  I know for a fact that my security guards used to love calling her down for deliveries as late as they could, hoping like a bunch of pervs that she’d come down without remembering to throw on a pair of shorts first.

  Firing two otherwise reliable security guards for ogling her ass as she struggled with some boxes is probably the reason why none of my workers enjoy getting deliveries for her anymore.

  So yeah, in comparison, the yoga pants and loose tank-top showing most of her sports bra is a marked improvement. Sort of. As long as she doesn’t turn sideways and inadvertently flash me that tiny little, distractingly sexy birthmark on her—

  Hell. Too late.

  Distractingly. Sexy.

  The woman’s killing me.

  Normally, I’m not the kind of man who would even consider blurring the line between tenant and landlord or boss and employee, but Summer is a goddamn walking temptation. And if she were even remotely aware that her nipples were poking through the thin fabric of her bra and saying hi to me right now, I’d be pissed as hell that she was making me rethink my own rules.

  “Summer,” I finally manage to grit out in a barely civil growl. “It’s two in the friggin’ morning. Can’t it wait until at least sunrise for a change?”

  She frowns in that cute, confused way she does when she realizes the rest of the city is sleeping like she should be. “Oh. Sorry, boss. I guess I can come back in a few hours—”

  I close the door before she can say the “but” I hear waiting in the wings, hoping like hell she won’t take the “sunrise” suggestion literally.

  2

  | JASON |

  MONDAY

  (Time: 4:21 a.m.)

  I head to the front door and pull it open midway through her second round of knocks.

  She’s standing on the doorstep, fresh-faced and bright-eyed. Almost impossibly chipper. Chased of course with her usual dose of excessive and usually unnecessary worry over whatever is racing through her thoughts right now.

  “’Morning, boss.” She flashes me a hasty but genuine smile and promptly hands me a large paper cup of what smells more like sugary liquefied hazelnut than coffee. Where on earth she went to get fancy coffee to go at this hour, I don’t even want to know. I’ll check with my security folks later. For now, I take the cup and leave it on the table in the foyer. I’m not ready for coffee. I’m not even dressed.

  She steps over the threshold, grabbing the abandoned cup to take a quick gulp—like she needs more caffeine—before she says in a rush, “So I had some things to run by you.”

  Maybe it’s because she pulls out an unbelievably over-stuffed folder—one of many in her bag—or and maybe it’s because she did take me literally on the sunrise thing, but I feel perfectly justified in reaching out to put a hand over her mouth to stop her from overloading me with information before my brain has had a chance to wake up.

  Her eyes widen the instant my skin touches hers.

  Great. At the sound of her breath catching softly in surprise, every muscle in my body is tensed up and ready to go. Now all I can think about is drawing that same gasp from her again, preferably along with my name, as I plunge hard and deep into her wet little—

  The way her eyes shoot down south grabs my attention, and I notice she’s looking at the front of the sweatpants I’d had to start wearing to bed after the crazy little insomniac began these invasions of my private sanctuary.

  Sure, I’d normally have concealed my morning wood better, but I’m in my own goddamn home, and I’m not some kid who needs to hide the fact that my cock is rock hard from thinking about a beautiful woman.

  I am curious about her reaction though.

  She’s staring at my hard-on as if I’m some kind of alien who just showed her a third eyeball. As if she’s noticing for the first time ever that I’m a man and she’s a woman. As if she’s never had a man react to her this way before.

  Bad idea, dude. Just walk away. Now.

  “I need breakfast,” I say, turning and heading into the kitchen. She can follow or not.

  She follows.

  And thank fuck, she seems to be back to her usual oblivious-to-everything-but-work default because I hear her rattling off what s
ounds like a long-ass checklist of things on her mind as I take out eggs and a few other things from the fridge. From some issues she foresees coming, to the design details she’d wanted to talk to me about earlier, to some interior construction constraints she’s figuring out, it’s all standard stuff, and I tune in with one ear as I make some food.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask when she finally pauses to take another breath.

  “No thanks. I already ate,” she says before launching back into an in-depth analysis of our progress on the project.

  As always, her attention to detail is impeccable; if only she had nearly as much insight to how much I’d like her to leave right now. It would be nice to just enjoy my once-quiet morning rituals again. But, I get it. This is a big project I handpicked to have her run point on. I know it’ll take time for us to get into a groove that doesn’t drive me up the wall. The important thing is that she’s damn talented, even if her process is damn unorthodox.

  I finish making my skillet scramble and sit at the counter to eat while she begins easing into what sounds like the start of a marathon explanation about how the guy we’d been considering for an open position on her project isn’t the best decision, and how she knows a guy who’d be much better suited.

  “He’s hired,” I interrupt her, and she pauses, her mouth hanging slightly open as she stares at me.

  I calmly take another bite of eggs, studying her as intently as she’s watching me. Does she not realize I trust her opinions on this sort of thing? If she says her guy is better, he’s fucking hired. I wouldn’t have her on the job if I thought she was in any way incompetent.

  “Oh,” she says, her eyes wide, “okay. Thank you.”

  She still seems surprised at my response. Has no one ever taken her seriously? So far, she’s been running a tight ship, and even when snags come up, like they always do with any project, she’s been ironing them all out before I have to get involved.