Wrong Bed Baby (Crescent Cove 10)

Yikes.

Pale and colorless, my lashes were practically non existent without makeup, but I didn’t want to look like a raccoon post fucking either. You know, if things went beyond a kiss.

Because the way the air was humming and…well, how I was humming—definitely more than a kiss was happening.

Probably.

I was pretty sure.

“You’re perfect.”

I looked up and caught him in the mirror. His face was freshly scrubbed and his curls were slicked back as if he’d ducked his head under the sink. I dropped my makeup brush. “I don’t know about that.”

He stalked across the small space and looped his arm around my waist to turn me around to face him, then drew me up on my toes and covered my mouth.

Startled, I couldn’t do anything else but hang on. I’d started out giving him the high sign and of course he took it to the next level. His mouth was firm, the tickle of his beard was just right, and his arms made me feel amazingly safe.

I pressed myself to him and opened to his swipe of tongue.

Then he took that

little opening and flattened me up against the wall next to my bedside table. The macrame wall hanging dug into the back of my head and something else fell to the floor, but I didn’t care.

I just wanted more.

I lifted my knee up on his hip and he took the initiative to hoist me up, wrapping my other leg around him before he pinned me to the wall. His boxers were even happier and I’d been impressed on the first check-in. The kiss was wild as a tempest. I didn’t have time to breathe or pull back. And for once, I didn’t want to.

The sun slanted through the windows of my room turning him into a gilded warrior. Fanciful, but the way he looked at me between kisses fit the definition. I was the spoils of our little war. One he didn’t even know we’d been in.

I’d thought I could ignore this. Believed that it would be easier to keep him out, but then he’d been right here in my damn room and it felt so right. So freaking good. Like a gift.

He hiked me up a little higher and nudged down the low scooped tank I was wearing with his beardy chin. He watched me for a reaction and when I nodded, he swiped his tongue over the tip of my breast before drawing on the tip. It was just on the edge of pain, but then he released it and swirled around the tip lightly.

“Goddess,” I panted out and gripped his shoulder.

“Caleb.”

I gave him a throaty laugh that morphed into a groan as he ground the shaft of his definitely happy cock against my center then went for my other breast. He hummed around me and licked and flicked, bit and nibbled.

He didn’t leave anything untouched.

“I can’t get enough of your skin.” He dragged his beard up my neck to my ear. “You taste like the ocean.”

I tightened my legs around him. It wasn’t even ten in the morning and we were heading for ninety degrees outside. “Is that because I’m sweaty?”

“No.” He leaned back a little to lock his gaze with mine. “Everything about you and your apartment feels and smells like cool water. It’s why I ended up in here.”

“Not for me?” I teased.

“Everything is for you.”

My eyebrows headed for the ceiling.

He pressed a quick kiss against my mouth. “That was supposed to be way less creepy. I just mean something about you makes me think of cool, calm waters. Comfort.”

I wiggled my decidedly uncool self against his hot cock. “Comfort, hmm?”

“Last night I was hot and drunk—but not drunk if you know what I mean. I barely had anything to drink. But the antibiotics I’m on made me queasy.”