Semua Bab The Billionaire Heiress Baby: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Three Months LaterFiona always wanted to be a June bride. There was something about thelonger days and the warmer weather—the excitement of summer startingand the new season in life. For the past two months, she had been inplanning mode while consumed with meetings, and television and radiointerviews gaining traction with the newly formed Robert MerrillFoundation. Tens of thousands of names had already been added to thenational registry since she and Chris went public with their remarkablestory. Because of their dedication to the project, other foundations wereeager and willing to partner with them, much to her excitement. But all thatwould have to wait—until after she wed the love of her life and herbusiness partner, Chris Ballard.Sitting on the window seat in the library nook of Stone Farm, shewatched as her closest friends and new family milled about in the vibrantgreen meadow beyond the house. White folding chairs were lined up withgarlands of wildflowers hanging o

He chuckled, and when I looked at him, his eyes were all but undressing me. He slid his hand down to my hip and squeezed just as the door opened to my floor. His eyes ran back up to mine, and when our eyes met, his lips crashed onto mine.I threw one arm around his shoulder and extended the other to feel our way out of the elevator and to my apartment. His lips were plush and soft, but his demeanor was anything but that. He kissed me like I was his last meal on earth, grabbing me by the waist and leaving the navigating up to me. We miraculously made it to my door, and as soon as we did, he pressed me up against it, his hands wandering down to settle at my ass. Dazed, I fished my keys out of my purse and tore myself away from him, giving myself a moment to look at him. His pupils were fully dilated, and his cheeks were slightly flushed. God, he’s beautiful.He cupped my cheek with one hand, leaning back in to murmur against my lips, “Open the fucking door.”I had gotten completely lost

She didn’t note that down and only moved to adjust her glasses. “Why do you think so?”“I’ve.. been through some things, and it’s been affecting the quality of my work.”“And your quality of life?”I paused. My quality of life, huh? The lavish, luxurious life. A life where I had someone on hand for my every whim, and I got everything and everyone I wanted as soon as I wanted.“I have everything I want, except for one thing, I suppose,” I trailed off, shooting a smile her way. She rolled her eyes.“Everything you want, or everything you need?” She looked at me, and it brought into question my entire view of it.“Perhaps. What is there to need?”“Tell me about yourself, Tucker.”I sighed. Where do I begin?Tucker Harris. Brother of Jordan Harris and son of Barry Harris. Heir to a huge pharmaceutical company and riding on the wealth he'd been given his entire life. Father to a husky, Rocky. Founder of a children’s charity foundation. CEO of the Boston Barnacles. I’m a simple man, truly.

TUCKER’s POVThe wind howled as I teared through the air at top speed. I ripped through the streets and onto the highway. This was comfort, this was the only place I felt myself—on my bike, zipping through the city with rock music blaring through my ears, the sun’s glare softened by my visor. The leather of my jacket whipped in the wind as I accelerated forward, clearing my mind of anything and everything. Here, I was allowed to process my thoughts. The guitar solo brought back memories. Pleasant ones where Jordan would run up to me to show me the newest song he’d learned on his guitar. He wasn’t the most proficient at it, but it was the best music I’d ever heard. No missed beats or wrong chords could amount to anything in the face of the pure joy on his face and the open smile beaming from him. My little guy. Always smiling, that sweet boy. He’d never tell me he was hurting, he’d never complain. He never wanted us to worry us. I say ”us” lightly, of course. It was always just me. At

I’m depraved. I must be, to think of him pushing his thumb in my mouth and demanding I look him in the eyes, to think of the compliments he would rain down on me, to think of how beautiful I felt to be so destroyed and vulnerable under his powerful gaze. Would he have me beg for his fingers to push their way inside me? Would he tell me to show him just how badly I needed the stretch?I found myself pleading to thin air, to the empty darkness of my room, but I didn’t care. Part of me imagined my wanton pleas popping up and disturbing his thoughts, just as he had disturbed my brain. Once I fed his ego enough, he would give me what I wanted. A gasp escaped my parted lips as pleasure pooled in my guts. What did I want? It was simple. I wanted him to grapple at my hips again as he rocked into me.Knowing Tucker, though? It would never be that simple with him. No, he would have me beg, mewl, and whimper to prove the depths of my desire for him. He would have me break my mask of professional