Daddy in Disguise (Crescent Cove 7)

I didn’t know how to accurately convey just how amazing this place was. Just how much I’d needed this man to be with me in this moment. To finally let him in. To finally trust that I could share something with another human.

That he could know me so well. Understand me like no one else ever had.

I dragged his mouth back up to mine. Our eyes locked, the shock of what we were doing seemed to be dawning in his eyes. I tugged on his lower lip with my teeth. I watched him as I lightly traced his lips and brushed my nose along his.

“I want this.” God, was that my voice? Practically thready with need.

He seemed to look over my shoulder for a moment, his brow furrowed. Want warred with worry.

“She’s fine. She’s painting pumpkins and getting spoiled by four women.”

His gaze refocused on me. “We actually have time?”

“Only if you don’t waste it.”

He touched his forehead to mine with a laugh. “Here?”

“Here.” I nodded and whipped my shirt over my head, leaving me in only my bra. “Here is perfect.”

I could’ve brought him upstairs, but that didn’t feel right. This felt truer than any bed could be. Besides, he might change his mind, and then I’d have to kill him.

I pulled his hand up from the grip on my hips to under my shirt. He cupped my breasts and pushed the two little mounds together to pop out of the confines of my flimsy bra. I wasn’t exactly blessed in the breast department, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. He scraped over the softness to find the hard tips.

I twisted my hands behind me to unclasp the stupid bra then it joined my shirt at the end of the bar.

All that mattered was that he was touching me.

He wasn’t going to stop this time.

I fumbled between us for his belt, undoing the heavy buckle and peeling his jeans open to find the thick length of him already springing into my hand. He groaned against my neck as I freed him and stroked the very lovely and impressive length of him. Thank freaking God. I mean, I’d work with whatever he had, but damn, it was nice to see he was as blessed in the front as he was in the back.

Good goddamn.

I reached lower for his balls and gave him a good tug. He grunted and pushed me back until I was flat on the bar. “Watch what you’re doing down there.”

I lifted myself up on my elbows. “Or what?” I lifted my foot to dig my heel into his ass, drawing him against me.

He went for my zipper. “Lift that perfect ass of yours.”

I grinned at him and obliged, thanking the yoga classes Rylee had been making me go to. I could hold this pose for a good minute—maybe two. Enough to kill him if I really wanted to.

From the look in his eyes and the heavy swallow working the long column of his throat, it was working.

I laughed and threw my head back as he stripped me of my jeans and then there was no more laughter. Nope. Not with that clever, busy mouth of his.

He hooked my knee over his shoulder and spread me open to give me one long, lazy lick. His gaze was a little wild, a lot hot, and just a touch scary.

Then he went on the attack.

I didn’t have anything to grab onto, so his shoulders had to do. I arched under his touch as his tongue found my clit with an accuracy I never imagined possible. Most guys needed a little guidance, especially when the room was this dark.

But nope. He seemed to know exactly what to do. And holy fuck, was I forever grateful.

I curled around his head as my body wept and my mind cleared for the first goddamn time in too many years for me to count. It was bliss. It was heaven. It was perfection.

It was a perfectly built latte with extra sweet foam with a sharply rich coffee blend hidden under the wispy clouds of orgasm. His name was a prayer on my lips as I literally died.

I collapsed back against the wood, my feet sliding away from him as my arms splayed wide.