Rockstar Baby (Crescent Cove 6)

“She is a wonder. Practically congratulated me before I came up to the room.”

I laughed. “Sounds like her. I started at the diner after she left, but I’ve heard some serious stories about her.”

He set me down on the bed and tucked me into the covers. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to assume anything, nor to have the town talking about you.”

I snuggled into the fluffy and very warm duvet. “I’m a big girl, LC.”

He grunted, but he damn well returned to the bathroom. He came back into the room and set the small box of condoms on the end table before making a pit stop at the fireplace to set the fire to blazing.

Now that I was under the covers and the winter sun was streaming in the window, I was warming nicely, but I appreciated the gesture. Especially with the look on his face. It said that I was going to be losing the towel momentously.

I shivered as he stood before me.

“Still chilled?”

I shook my head no as I bit my lower lip.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

My smile was slow and wide as my arm shot out to drag him onto the bed. His boots thumped to the floor. A rare laugh tumbled from his lips as he stripped out of his jeans and I pushed at his sweater and the thermal shirt under it.

“Poor California boy is freezing his ass off here in New York.”

“Ah, but I have a sweet redheaded lass who is going to warm me up.”

I laughed at the thickened bit of Irish he put into his voice. “Keep talking like that and I’ll never let you go.” His smile slipped a little, and my breath backed up. “I didn’t mean—”

He covered my mouth with his. “I know what you mean, Ivy.”

The thrill zinged down my spine as he said my name again. Why did that drive me so crazy? It was just a name. People said it a million times a day since I was usually waitressing at three different places some weeks. When he said it?

It wasn’t like anyone else.

And then it really didn’t matter what names were being said, because most of the next string of words were curse words and deities in quick succession.

Sweet mercy, the man had a talented mouth. A devilish one that had no business making me scream out for God, but boy, did I.

He rolled me under him, above him, and finally, in what was becoming his favorite position—and mine—he spooned me as he splayed me open to his every touch.

I arched and his long, delicious fingers stroked me from clit to neck before he turned my head to meet his lips as he thrust into me again and again. I was surrounded and bared at the same time, cherished and displayed in ways I’d never been before.

His teeth sunk into my shoulder as a stifled groan ended in a sweet sigh. I didn’t remember drifting off, but my body was sweetly swaddled into the covers as Rory slipped away to take care of the condom.

Just like last night, he returned to gather me close.

If I drifted off, would he be gone again?

The worry of it wouldn’t let me slip away as I’d almost done only moments before. He would be leaving, I had no doubt of that. I just wanted to be awake and aware of it this time.

I rolled in his arms until our legs were a tangle and I could rest my cheek against his ch

est. Words felt like too much just then, but he seemed to be good with the silence. Part of me wanted to ask what he was thinking, but the other half of me didn’t want to know.

Was he counting the minutes before he could escape?

As gruff as he was, there was a steely spine of politeness inside of him as well. Such a crazy combination. And he didn’t reach for his phone every three minutes either. Most guys rolled over and checked their phones about thirty times.

Heck, I usually did as well.