Keep It Classy (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 7)

He pulled back and dropped his mouth to my cheekbone, skimming his lips along it as he returned to his slow, even thrusts.

And five minutes later, when I was coming on his cock and he was coming right along with me, I knew that waking up to this would be the best thing in the world.

That my decision to do this was the right one.

And in the morning, when both Castiel and his guitar were gone, I wondered if maybe I’d made a mistake. If maybe telling him I’d move in was a bad idea.

Because normally when people lived with each other like we did now, they told each other where they went. They gave a ‘hey, I’m going. I’ll be back in a few.’

Except I got nothing from Cas. When he got back, he acted like he hadn’t been gone.

But what he also acted like was happy to see me.

“Where did you go?” I asked as I folded laundry.

My laundry and his.

I’d gone and gotten mine from his bedroom floor and stolen one of his shirts to change into. I’d also found a pair of his sweatpants in the dresser, and I’d had to roll them up so many times that they were uncomfortable as hell. That, and they were tight on my ass, reminding me that he was skinnier than me, which then pissed me off all over again and made me have second doubts about moving in with him only a week after we’d really started to get along.

Which led to then, me folding a pair of his underwear, when he walked into the house with his guitar in one hand and a bag of something in the other.

I carefully laid the folded underwear down on the rapidly growing pile of his clothes and stared at him.

The narrow-eyed look on my face was lost on him.

Upon seeing me, his face lit up, and he started in my direction.

I wasn’t sure what to think about that as he stalked in my direction.

I also expected him to stop at a respectable distance.

He didn’t.

He swallowed up the space between us, not stopping until the entire length of his body was pressed to mine.

I dropped my head back and stared up at him, making him smile as he stared down at me.

“I’m sorry I left you so long,” he rumbled.

My brow rose.

He wasn’t even going to deny it. He knew for a fact that he’d been gone too long.

Which made me look over at the bag in his hand.

“What’s in that?” I questioned.

He gently tossed the bag to the sofa behind me, then leaned sideways and propped the neck of the guitar up on the wall that I was standing next to.

“Essentials,” he said once he’d straightened.

I blinked. “What kind of essentials?”

I sounded snippy, even to my own ears.

But shit! He’d left me alone half the morning in his house and hadn’t answered a single text message!

“The kind that we need later,” he answered cryptically, but also warily. “How bad do you want to kick me in the nuts right now?”

My lips twitched. “Somewhere between kind of contemplating it and somewhat contemplating it.”

He chuckled then brought his hand up and ran his fingers delicately across the length of my cheekbone.

“I didn’t have any cell reception,” he admitted. “And when I started driving, I was too focused on the road because I’d never driven an RV of your size before.”

It took me a few seconds to understand that he wasn’t gesturing to my actual size, but my RV’s size.

“You went and got my RV?” I squeaked.

He nodded. “I did.”

I frowned. “I would’ve gone with you.”

His eyes went soft as he looked down at me, changing the direction of his stroke to encompass my chin, too.

The sensation was weird, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pull away from him because it was tickling me or lean into his touch because it felt nice.

“I didn’t want you to change your mind, so I went and got your RV,” he said. “I need you to take me back to my bike once we’re done.”

I frowned, panting slightly. “Once we’re done with what? I can take you now. My clothes are clean and dry.”

The rough, wide palm of his hand not stroking my face slid up the outside of my thigh, making my heart start to speed up.

Okay, now I completely understood what he meant.

All doubts were knocked from my mind, and I was left thinking about one thing, and one thing only.

Him. His hands on me.

His mouth on me.

Me riding him.

All of those things went through me at once, and I was practically panting seconds later as I found myself pressing up against him.

His body was hard all over, including the arousal contained by his jeans.

It was like a long, steel bar that ran down the left side of his pants.