A Billionaire's Obsession Summer

By: J.S. Scott

Handling Simon

Simon Hudson paced his home office, scowling as he stared down at his iPhone.

I’m running a little late. Be home soon.

Kara had sent the text a half hour ago, and she still wasn’t home. Like the day hasn’t been fucking long enough? Logically, he knew she was probably safe, on her way home from work. But when it came to Kara, he didn’t exactly operate with reason. Never had. Never would. His analytical mind took a vacation when it came to his wife. She was his entire world, and the thought of anything harming her turned him into a dominant beast that wanted to do nothing except keep her by his side every minute of every day.

“Why the hell does she have to work? It’s not like I can’t support her.” His voice was husky, bewildered. His wife was six months pregnant, and still working full-time as a nurse at the hospital. And every time she left in the morning for what he knew had to be a grueling twelve-hour shift, he panicked, his anxiety level on overdrive until she arrived safely at home in the evening.

“Because she likes to work. Because she’d be bored if she didn’t. Because she worked hard for her education and wants to use it?” The amused, feminine reply sounded from the doorway of his computer lab.

Kara’s husky, teasing voice flowed over him like silk, the tension draining from his body as he stopped pacing, his eyes raking over her figure in the doorway with a covetous, possessive gaze.

Mine. My wife.

That thought hit him like a sucker punch with a baseball bat to his chest—one delivered by a major leaguer. Would there ever come a day where he didn’t find Kara more fascinating and beautiful than he did the day before? He highly doubted it. He was a lucky bastard, and he knew it.

Smiling, she moved toward him, and his heart thundered as she glided closer, his dominant genes urging him to seize and conquer her. Those desires warred with his need to protect her, to keep her safe. It was always like that with Kara, but now that she was pregnant, his protective instincts always won.

She must have showered at the hospital, and she looked beautiful in a light, floral, loose-fitting sundress that nearly hid the swell of her abdomen. Not for the first time, Simon swore his wife was sexiest pregnant woman on earth. His cock stood at attention as he caught her enticing scent, stepping forward to seize her around the waist and hold her tightly against his body, drowning in her essence, forgetting for just a moment that he was pissed off at her for coming home late and scaring the shit out of him.

“You’re never leaving this house again,” he growled, pulling the clip from her hair and letting the silky waves flow over his fingers.

“You say that every time I come home,” Kara answered casually, winding her arms around his neck.

“I mean it this time.” And he did. Completely. He was so not letting her go to work again. His heart couldn’t take it. “Why were you late? Bad shift?” he asked curiously, slightly mollified by her nearness and the way she wrapped herself around him.

“You always mean it, but you’ll let me go again next time,” she answered confidently. “Because you love me and you know working makes me happy.”

Dammit. Why did she always play that card? It was exactly how she got to him every time. “I’m not weakening this time.” He wasn’t. Absolutely not.

“Simon…you have enough security on me to protect the entire country. And you will let me go,” she answered softly, her lips grazing over his temple, the warmth of her breath wafting over his ear. “We had a deal and you’re not breaking it.”

Oh, hell. What the fuck had possessed him to agree to any deal that entailed her being even the tiniest bit vulnerable?

Her hands wandered over his chest, meandering around to his back, her nails lightly raking over the cotton of his old t-shirt. He shuddered and closed his eyes as her tongue lightly traced the contours of his ear and cupped his jean-clad ass in her hands, rubbing her lush body sensually against his, urging his groin against her.

Oh, yeah…..that. Damn it. “It’s not working this time, sweetheart,” he answered gruffly, hating himself for the lack of conviction in his voice.

“I missed you,” she whispered softly in his ear.

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