The Pregnancy Contract by Yvonne Lindsay Page A

moisture glisten on her lips where she’d nervously swiped them with her tongue. “The business of making a baby.”
    She swallowed, dragging his attention from her lips to the long graceful sweep of her neck.
    â€œRight. But we’ll have to wait for the health check results to come back first, won’t we?”
    â€œPiper, seriously, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you were nervous.”
    She swallowed again. “No, I’m not nervous exactly. I was just thinking today that we hadn’t really gone into the mechanics of how we were going to create this child.”
    â€œMechanics?” He smiled. “Well, it’s been a while but I’m assuming people still do it the same way they have always done. You know—”
    â€œSo you don’t want to go for artificial methods?” she interrupted.
    Her voice had pitched even higher. She sounded a little scared. Such a change from the fearless girl he remembered. He was starting to feel bad about winding her up so much. It had always been so good between them, why would she be scared of that? Maybe she needed a reminder.
    â€œNow, why would I want to do that, when we can enjoy this,” he replied.
    He reached forward, cupping one hand at the back of her neck and drawing her toward him. He bent his head, catchinga glimpse of shock in her eyes before his lips captured hers. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue, her lips parting on a gentle sigh. He deepened the kiss, pressing home his advantage and trying not to remember the last time he’d touched her like this. The last time he’d wanted her like this—with a force that threatened to consume him.
    He swept his tongue along her lower lip before suckling it between his teeth, scraping softly on the tender membrane before releasing it again. Her body sank into his, the softness of her breasts crushing against his chest. The curve of her hips, her mound, aligning with his painfully hard erection. He craved her with a need he’d thought long suppressed. Wanted nothing more than to sweep the contents of his desk to the floor and to take her on that hard polished surface—to push up her nightgown over her waist and to sink between her glorious long legs, to her inner heat where he could lose himself, lose this overwhelming burning desire.
    But, with a control borne of years of practice, he reined himself back, focused instead on nothing but their kiss, on inciting her to want him as much as he most definitely wanted her. Because when he took her to his bed, he wanted her to be a full and willing partner—physically at least. He would settle for nothing less.

Seven
    P iper struggled to gather her thoughts, but they spun out of reach until she could only feel. Wade’s kiss was a mastery of seduction. His lips a tantalizing tease across her own. His tongue a hot wet rasp of torment. She wanted more than this, more than a kiss. She wanted to feel his mouth on her body—her breasts, her belly, lower.
    She squeezed her thighs tightly together against the swell of longing that ached at her core and wrapped her arms around his neck so she could press even more firmly against his length. His body felt different from how he’d been before. More heavily muscled through his torso, his legs stronger. But one thing remained the same. She recognized the feel and shape of a specific part of him as if it were only yesterday.
    She trailed one hand down his chest, to the waistband of his trousers where she fumbled with his leather belt, desperate to test the weight and size of him in her hand. To feel his silken hardness, skin to skin.
    He groaned into her mouth as her fingers pushed pastthe elastic of his briefs and brushed the head of his penis. His erection jumped against her palm before she closed her fingers around his width and stroked. She felt the shudder go through him, heard him groan again as he tore