His gray eyes heated with desire as he pressed his hard on into my belly. “Maybe if we spend enough time down at the beach, Allison and Everett will go down for a nap with Lucy and Hayden this afternoon.”
“It’s worth a shot.” I turned in his embrace to look through the floor to ceiling windows at our gorgeous view of the Atlantic Ocean. “I’m so glad you convinced me that we needed a house in the Hamptons. I love it here.”
His hold on me tightened, and he dropped a kiss on the top of my head. “Me, too. You found the perfect place, sugar.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t too difficult for me to do when you told me to spend however much I wanted as long as I was happy with the house.”
“The money didn’t matter as much as getting the right place for all of us.” He gave me a little squeeze. “Your happiness means everything to me.”
“I know.” I twisted my head around to smile up at him. Thatcher didn’t just use his billions to make sure I had anything and everything I’d ever wanted. He also gave me the important stuff—his time, attention, and unwavering love. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and a day didn’t go by that I wasn’t grateful he’d fallen as hard for me as I had for him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
My grin widened. “I know.”
“You better.” He wagged his brows. “But, I’m still going to thoroughly demonstrate how much I love you later.”
Thinking about the box of toys we kept on the upper shelf of our walk-in closet, my bikini bottoms grew damper. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Alright, kiddos.” Thatcher released me to stride over to the table and pull Hayden out of the high chair. “Who wants to head down to the beach?”
“Meeee!” Allison, Everett, and Lucy squealed in unison. Not wanting to be left out of the excitement, Hayden shrieked and clapped his hands.
“Allison and Everett, go change into your swimsuits,” Thatcher instructed. Our two oldest children didn’t hesitate to scamper off to their rooms. Cradling Hayden in one arm, he bent down to undo the strap on Lucy’s booster seat. Then he took her hand to help her down. “I’ll get these two ready if you’ll clear the table. Leave the dishes in the sink, and I’ll clean them up after we’re done at the beach.”
“You’re seriously the best husband ever.” I padded over to the table, pausing to kiss Thatcher’s cheek before he headed out of the kitchen with our youngest kids.
By the time I finished cleaning up—including the dishes because I had plans later on for my man—he had all the kids ready to head down to the beach. Snagging the bag of towels and toys I kept in a big basket near the French doors leading out to the deck, I followed Thatcher and the kids outside. He carried Lucy and Hayden while I held onto Allison and Everett’s hands to help them around the pool and down the stairs to the beach. Once everyone was situated in the sand with their favorite toys, I pulled off my cover-up.
“Fuck, it’s a good thing this is a private beach.” Thatcher traced his finger down my spine and dipped it into my bikini bottom. “You’re too sexy in this for anyone else to see you. I’d be fighting guys off left and right to keep them away.”
I giggled and pointed at our children. “You don’t need to worry about other guys paying attention to me. Four kids are enough to scare anyone away.”
He circled to stand in front of me and shook his head. “You seriously underestimate your sex appeal, sugar. How do you think you ended up with this many children so close together in the first place?”
“Because I love your dick so much,” I mumbled under my breath, my cheeks heating as I remembered how he’d used my favorite appendage last night after the kids fell asleep.
“Which is a damn good thing considering how much it likes to be inside you,” he whispered as his hands glided to my butt to squeeze it. When his head jerked back and he bent low, I twisted around and glanced down to see what had surprised him but didn’t see anything that would explain his reaction until he tugged my bikini bottoms lower and asked, “Where’s your contraceptive patch?”
“My—” I yanked my bikini bottoms lower, making him growl even though there wasn’t anyone nearby who could see my bare buttcheek. Not finding the patch where it was supposed to be, I stuck my hand inside to feel around for it and started to freak out when I didn’t encounter anything. “Oh, crap! Where is it?”
“Crap, crap, crap,” Everett chanted.
“Crap is a bad word. You aren’t supposed to say it,” Allison informed her brother, wagging her finger at him.
“But Mommy just said it,” he argued.
“It’s an adult word,” Thatcher explained. “You can only say it when you’re older.”
Allison tilted her head to the side and asked, “How old?”
Everett put his hands on his hips and repeated, “Yeah, how old?”
If I’d been worried about anything other than birth control, my kids would’ve been cute enough to distract me from my predicament. But considering how often I’d been surprised by a pregnancy because the method we were using had failed, I couldn’t let them divert my attention from the mystery of my missing contraceptive patch. While Thatcher lectured Allison and Everett about words they couldn’t repeat, especially at school, I pulled my cell phone out of the beach bag and did a little research. What I found only freaked me out more. “Oh, crap.”
“What is it?” Thatcher asked, peering over my shoulder to look at the screen.
I elbowed him in the side, twisting my neck to glare up at him. “It says that if the patch falls off for more than two days, then the chances are high that I'll get pregnant.”
Thatcher’s nose wrinkled as he thought for a moment and then said, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but the last time I remember seeing the patch was more than two days ago.”
“You and your huge cock struck again,” I hissed, turning around and poking him in the chest.
His gaze dropped to my bare stomach, and he shook his head. “Relax, sugar. You don’t know that you’re pregnant.”
“It says right here that nine out of a hundred people get pregnant while using the patch!” I jabbed my finger at the screen of my phone. “I bet your super sperm knocked me up last night. Or the day before.”
Reacting to my shrill tone, Hayden started to cry. I walked over and picked him up, and he snuggled into my chest. Thatcher rested his hand over our youngest’s head and asked, “Would it really be so horrible to have another?”
I pressed a kiss to Hayden’s forehead and looked at how happy the other three were to be playing in the sand. My eyes got a little misty as I answered, “Not even a little bit horrible.”
It was a good thing I was okay with the possibility of being pregnant...because it turned out that I’d been right about his sperm. We had our fifth, and last, baby the following Spring.
Their Love
Billionaire Jamison Kennedy fell in love at first sight with his sweet, country girl. They were from different worlds, but he knew she was meant for him. He wasted no time in sweeping Hazel off her feet and tying the knot.
Hazel was desperately in love with her husband, but she didn’t fit in with the glitz and glamor of New York high society. However, she was determined to be the perfect wife, even if it meant losing herself in the process.
Jamison knew something was wrong and he’d do anything to get back to the people they were when they first met. Because nothing was as important as their love.
Prologue
Jamison
“One more,” I growled as I shoved my tongue into my wife’s tight channel. She cried out, and I licked my way up to her clit, sucking it hard as I filled her with my fingers. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d taken her over the two weeks since we’d been married, but each time, she was every bit as tight as when I popped her cherry on our wedding night. “Give me one more, peaches.” I’d already wrung one orgasm out of her, but I was determined to get another. I
wanted Hazel’s cervix to be soft and her womb primed to take my seed when I finally sank my cock deep inside her.
In the next second, Hazel’s hands dove into my hair and held on tight as she shouted my name while wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her. I kept eating until the pulsing in her pussy began to dissipate, then I placed a soft kiss on her mound. I would never get enough of her taste; like peaches and cream.
She was panting, the movement bouncing her perky C-cups and making my mouth water to nibble on their hard, little tips. My hands dragged along her body as I moved up and over her. I was a few inches over six feet tall. At just barely five feet, she was tiny compared to me. My muscular body dwarfed her delicate one, and it made me feel even more protective, adding fuel to my already out of control obsession with my wife.
But, despite her slight frame, my girl was strong and could take everything I gave her in bed. I’d been afraid of hurting her at first, but on our wedding night, I’d lost myself to my mating instincts and ended up fucking her like a caveman. Afterwards, I’d mentally beat the shit out of myself for losing control and more than likely, scaring the crap out of my sweet, young wife. I’d done my best to hide the possessive, jealous beast raging inside me since we’d met. But when I finally claimed her, he refused to be contained any longer.
To my surprise, Hazel had clutched my ass, bucked her hips while kissing my neck, and asked, “Can we do that again?” Ever since then, she’d taken everything I had to give her; quickly losing her inhibitions and becoming a fucking tigress in bed.
Hazel gazed up at me with deep green eyes that were clouded with passion. “More,” she whispered as she circled her legs around my waist.
“You want my cock, peaches?” I purred as I rubbed my thick shaft between her soaking wet folds.
“Yesss,” she hissed as her muscles tightened.
I positioned my fat, swollen head at her entrance and circled my hips twice before I slammed my bare cock into her unprotected pussy.
We had two and a half more months before our honeymoon would be over, and I was determined to breed my little wife before reality intruded. Now that we were married, she was bound to discover just how deep my obsession with her went. I was fucking crazy over her, and I wasn’t ever letting her go. She was finally wearing my ring, but I wanted her tied to me in every way possible.
Chapter 1
Jamison
Hazel looked like a fucking goddess in a gold, strapless gown, with her hair curled on top of her head, and her features slightly enhanced by her subtle makeup. And it was pissing me the fuck off. If another asshole leered at her tits, I was going to ruin everything when I killed him.
My sweet girl was awed by the life we led, and I didn’t want to burst Cinderella’s bubble. She’d grown up in a small town in upstate New York. Her family owned an orchard, and I’d met her on my way to a meeting in Ithaca. I’d stopped by a roadside stand to buy some fruit, and she’d floated over to help me. She’d lifted her cherub face and smiled at me with her rosebud mouth, her green eyes twinkling, and the world had fallen away. I’d felt as though the ground had disappeared beneath my feet.
Like a fucking idiot, I’d simply stood there and stared at her. Her plump cheeks had turned pink, and she glanced down as she brushed long strands of coppery hair behind her shoulder.
She was young. Too young for me. She was wearing a pink headband with a checkered bow for fuck’s sake.
“How old are you?” I asked. Then I silently berated myself, not only because those were the first damn words I’d ever spoken to her, but because my instantaneous, raging attraction had caused me to be rock hard and uncomfortable. Which meant the words came out a little too harsh.
She’d blushed harder and dug the toe of her pink canvas tennis shoe into the dirt. “Um, eighteen,” she mumbled. “My birthday was yesterday.”
I’d managed to stifle my huge sigh of relief. And yet…fucking eighteen? Damn, that made me seventeen years older than her. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Happy birthday, peaches,” I’d said in a much smoother tone. I wanted to reach out and run my finger over the pink dusting her cheeks and nose. I was betting that her skin was softer than silk.
“Peaches?” Her blush deepened, and her smile widened, revealing two deep dimples. I was so fucked.
“I don’t know your name, but you look like a peaches to me,” I teased.
She’d giggled and flashed those lethal dimples my way again. “Hazel.”
Beautiful.
When she beamed and thanked me, I realized I’d said it out loud.
“You’re very handsome,” she whispered shyly, making me want to preen like a damn peacock. I wasn’t ignorant of my effect on women, I just hadn’t cared before now. I wore my shortish, dark hair gelled into a style that was similar to a fauxhawk but acceptable in the business world. My green eyes were dark and fringed with thick, black lashes. My face was lean with a strong jaw and nose, covered with a neatly trimmed beard. According to some ridiculous articles and “sexiest whatever” lists, even the small scar on the top of my right cheekbone was appealing. Daily visits to the gym kept me cut and strong. I was lean but ripped as fuck. As her green eyes swept over me, I felt as though my skin had been singed by fire in every spot she looked.
I was about to reply when an older man who looked to be only a few years older than me had stepped behind her and watched me warily. From his features, it was easy to tell that he was her father. “Can I help you?” he’d asked gruffly.
My eyes had drifted down to my peaches again but lifted to her father’s when he cleared his throat. I swallowed hard and forced myself to step away. I bought a few peaches—no other fruit appealed to me anymore—before dragging my ass back to my Maserati and lowering my big frame into the driver’s seat.
I started the car and put it in drive, my eyes on her the whole time. My windows were tinted, but it seemed almost as though she could feel my gaze because she kept looking my way since her eyes met mine every time. It took everything in me to finally drive away. With every mile, it became clearer that I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life.
By the time I reached my destination, I’d realized what a huge fucking mistake I’d made. I called my secretary and had her make my apologies to my associates as I squealed tires and drove like a bat out of hell back to the fruit stand.
It took me a couple of days to convince her father to let me spend some time with her. If he’d pushed back even for one more day, I would have simply taken her. But it was clear that my girl loved her family, and I didn’t want to cause a rift. Still, for those two days, I was never far from her. I couldn’t stand it. I’d even found a back road onto their land and had spent a good portion of every night lurking near her window. Watching her sleep, knowing she was safe and peaceful, was the only thing that gave me any comfort.
When I was finally allowed to take her on a date, I’d pulled out all the stops, flying her back to NYC in a helicopter. I took her shopping for a dress, then we attended the ballet—since she had ballet slippers hanging in her room and ballerinas on her bedspread—and ended the night with dinner at The Rainbow Room. Throughout the night, she’d had a look of wonder on her sweet face as she chattered constantly. It was adorable and made me confident that my plan was working. I wanted to impress her, to sweep her off her feet and make her fall in love with me. If this was the life she wanted, I would give it to her. She could have anything she wanted, and I made sure she knew it. I also gave her light, teasing touches all night to get her used to me. From the shivers some of them elicited, I knew she felt the burn between us.
Her sweet innocence and genuine reactions had been refreshing and a huge turn on. But the more I’d gotten to know her, I found myself intrigued by her quick wit and intelligence. She was my little country bumpkin, and I hoped she’d never change.
When we returned to her town, I’d driven towards her home but pulled over a few miles from the house. Unable to stand it even another minute, I
’d unbuckled her belt and dragged her onto my lap. A simple touch of our lips was all it took to have my body engulfed in flames. I wanted more—so much more—I wanted it all. But, not like that. I decided right then that our first time would be on our wedding night.
The next day, I had a talk with her parents. I told them I wanted their blessing but that either way, I was going to marry Hazel. I promised to take care of her, to love her, to give her everything her heart desired. Apparently, my passionate plea convinced them. Then her mother told me that our story wasn‘t so different from their own.
They called my girl into the room, and I got down on one knee to propose. Her whole face lit up, and she threw herself into my arms with a shout of “Jamison! Yes! Yes!” I laughed and stood, spinning her around.
I gave her a chaste kiss, mindful of the parental eyes watching us. Then I took the round, five-carat, peach sapphire on a rose gold band covered in tiny diamonds and slipped it on her delicate finger. Hazel had gasped, her face awash with shock. After a moment, her expression turned troubled.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“It’s lovely,” she responded, her tone genuine. But it didn’t erase the look on her face.
“You don’t have to keep it, Hazel,” I assured her. “You can have whatever you want. This just reminded me of you, peaches.”
Hazel’s expression had brightened, and she sent a soft look my way before shrugging sheepishly. “It’s so big and expensive. What if I lose it?”
I couldn’t help it; I threw my head back and laughed so hard that a tear leaked from the side of one eye. When I finally got ahold of myself, Hazel was watching me with an annoyed glint in her eye and her hands on her hips.
The Love Series Box Set: Volume One Page 12