Daddy in Disguise (Crescent Cove 7)

He’d already distracted me on a daily basis.

And now, he was the perfect key into my lock.

His fingers snaked into my braid and he gripped my head to keep eye contact as he thrust into me again and again. Long, measured strokes that touched every part of me. He widened my legs to get us closer, then pulled me into him until there was no space between us.

We were chest to chest, belly to belly, and breath to breath. He burrowed deeper as if he was going to fucking climb into me. I curled my arms around his shoulders, my nails digging for purchase as the freefall started.

I tried to break away from him.

The connection was too deep. Too everywhere.

But he wouldn’t let me go.

He surrounded me, enveloped me, and overwhelmed me.

Sweat poured between us as the friction ratcheted everything up to another level. His huge hands held me tight and safe. His arms wouldn’t let me fall.

The soundless scream traveled up and strangled me as our hips found a synchronicity unlike any other. The angle had him dragging against some part of me that had never been touched each time he left me. When he filled me again, there was nothing but warmth and fullness.

For the first time, I didn’t feel alone.

For the first time, I felt part of something—someone.

I shuddered around him, my lips trembling as he slowly, sweetly kissed me before the end opened up before us. His hips slammed into mine as we both raced for the finish. I held on and buried my face in his neck while my orgasm obliterated me.

As the world stopped for just one beat, maybe two. Silence and calm flooded my jangling system before I was slapped back into reality—the end credits of the movie still playing all around us.

Finally, he lifted me off the bar, somehow still inside me, and we landed in a heap of drop-cloths and laughter. The heaviness of the moment popped like a soap bubble.

“It’s probably not manly to say my knees liquified from coming, right?” He stretched his arms over his head, arching his back as if to get the kinks out.

For God’s sake, he hadn’t even taken off his damn T-shirt. An arrow of dark, silky hair climbed up from where we were still tangled. His abs were a damn work of art. Not the perfect gym rat kind, but the working man kind.

I wanted to crawl all over him and find every ridge and curve.

I inched his shirt up, scraping my teeth over his muscled chest and finding a nipple in the fur.

He growled and seemed to firm again as I slid down his length. His fingers dug into my hips. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t?” I undulated my hips to hold him tight inside me.

He lowered his mouth to my neck, finding some insane combination that only he seemed to know. The edge between tickle and pleasure made my blood thicken and slow. I slid back just enough that he could get his hand between us, his thumb swirling over my clit. “Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy.”

I arched my back as the next trip started.

Jesus, how long had it been since I’d had an actual string of orgasms?

Then both our phones went off and thunder erupted on the chipboard doorway between The Haunt and the café.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” came Rylee’s voice.

“Then don’t,” I yelled back as I rocked against his hand.

“Sorry! Emergency!”

I groaned as the climax started to dissipate instead of escalate. “No.” Was that my voice coming out in a whine?

“Baby on board! Ivy’s in labor!”