Having Leo's Child

By: Emma Darcy


NEVER had Teri Adams known such all-consuming sexual excitement. It amazed her, thrilled her, and she didn’t care that she barely knew Leo Kingston.

He wanted her-this incredible, dynamic, beautiful, sexy man—and she hadn’t known what wanting really felt like until he’d evoked it in her the very first time he’d walked into her restaurant. Instantly. Shatteringly. It was as though her body just lit up with new fields of awareness, prompting reactions and responses she had no control over. None at all.

The same thing happened the second time.

And this...the third...

She had to know it all, wanted to feel everything he could make her feel. If it was only this once...

There was nothing to hold her back. Everyone was gone; the customers, the chef, the kitchenhand. No one left to bother about, except herself and the man who’d stayed on, wanting to be with her, wanting this as madly and urgently as she did. From the moment he’d come in, ostensibly to buy his dinner, she’d felt it. This was going to be the night. He was going to act, going to reach out and pursue what was sizzling between them. And he had.

Her mouth was throbbing from the wildly erotic passion of his kiss. Her head was throbbing from the sheer volume of sensation it was trying to encompass. Her heart was pounding like some madly beaten primitive drum. Her legs were a quivery mess, so much so, in her rush to lead Leo to her bedroom above the restaurant, she tripped on stairs she had never tripped on before.

Leo, hard on her heels, saved her from falling, one strong arm swooping around her waist, holding her up, the other swiftly hooking her thighs, and she was hoisted against his chest with barely a pause in his forward momentum. On up the rest of the stairs he carried her, the pumping excitement increasing at this evidence of his power and strength.

With her arms flung over his shoulders and around his neck, her breasts squashed to the heaving wall of his chest, Teri dizzily absorbed the heat and the smell of him, a vibrant male earthiness that her fevered imagination attached to primitive instincts aroused and raging. Without even realising what she was doing she licked along the line of his jaw, compelled to taste, to saturate all her senses with him.

“Which door?” Leo growled.

“First one,” she almost sang out of sheer exhilaration, revelling in the wildness of being carried off for mating by a caveman. Except Leo was cleanshaven and the taste of him was like champagne fizzing on her tongue and through her bloodstream. A modern caveman, wanting, reaching out and taking, and she loved it, loved being taken by him.



He kicked the door she’d left ajar, clearing their passageway, and whirled her into the bedroom. She expected him to crash onto the bed with her but he didn’t, halting beside it and releasing her legs so they swung down to hang against his, and he caught her there while her arms were still wound around his neck, his hands clutching her bottom, squeezing her into a highly erotic knowledge of how powerfully excited he was.

He arched back, emitting an animal groan of pleasure as he revelled in the soft giving of her flesh. “You have the sexiest derrière I’ve ever seen on a woman, Teri,” he declared. “And watching it twitch and sway under that snug little red skirt as you move around the tables in the restaurant...”

He dragged in a deep breath and it blew through her hair as his chin came down. Even in the semidarkness his eyes had a mesmerising brilliance, cobalt-blue, glittering with the fully released fire of desire. “I tell you it’s a diabolical tease,” he went on, his voice furred with the lust she’d inspired. “My hands have been itching to hold you like this.”

Her hands had been itching to touch any part of him, and if he had to talk about derrières, what his did to a pair of jeans was enough to make any woman start fantasising about taut and terrific flesh and muscle. Masculinity plus. And he was like that all over. But she contented herself with raking her hands through the lustrous black waves of his thick, springy hair as he kissed her again.

No one had ever kissed her like this. It wasn’t a hard mash of his mouth against hers. It wasn’t sloppy. It was a feast of sensation, his lips seductively shaping hers to be tantalised by little nips of his teeth and tingling caresses of his tongue, building excitement, then driving into an incredibly intimate sweep of her palate, electrifying every nerve-end, drawing her into a wild exchange of darting movements that brought such an intense rush of wanting, her whole body surged with need, demanding a carnal satisfaction that was shocking in its intensity.

Top Books