Wicked Beat (Sinners on Tour 4)

He smiled. He’d never been greeted with a birthday present on his pillow. The guys had once woken him by smashing a birthday cake into his face. It had been one rude, but rather delicious, wake-up call.

He untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, expecting to find something sexy nestled in the tissue paper. Instead, he found a baby monitor.

“A baby monitor?”

He lifted the device from the box and found a second note tied to its short antenna. I’m at your beck and call, birthday boy. Press the button, and let me know when you’re ready for me.

His heart thundered with anticipation. He pressed the button. “Rebekah?”

“I’ll be right up,” her voice came from the little speaker.

He was already up. When it came to his woman, he was always up. He covered his excitement by dropping a pillow on his lap.

A moment later the bedroom door opened and Rebekah entered carrying a tray of food. She wore a frilly little apron. Just a frilly little apron. Damn, she looked good enough to eat. If he hadn’t already been up, this would have done the trick.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said. “I made you three different types of scrambled eggs. Also, bacon. Sausage. Biscuits. Hash browns. A fruit cup and some coffee. Juice.”

“It smells fantastic,” he murmured. He was sure it looked fantastic too, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the gentle bounce of her pert br**sts as she crossed the room and set the tray on the bed beside him.

She leaned across the bed and kissed him gently on the mouth. “Happy first birthday,” she said.

“First birthday?”

“Well, I missed twenty-seven of them, so I have a lot of birthdays to celebrate with you today.”

He’d never thought he cared that no one had ever done anything special for his birthday or that he’d never had a party as a kid. The warmth spreading through his chest and his giddiness at her thoughtfulness told him that he really had cared. Rebekah had a way of making him glad for those hard times so that he treasured his time with her that much more. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now eat.”

“Maybe I want you to feed me,” he said.

She climbed onto the bed beside him and picked up his fork. “What do you want?”

He lifted his hand and stroked her taut nipple with his fingertips. “This.” He leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the aroused skin.

“You’ll get plenty of that with your other surprises,” she said. “You should probably eat so you can keep up your strength.”

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and then drew away. “I’ll eat,” he said. “You keep those hard for me.”

Mesmerized, he watched her pluck her ni**les, roll them between her thumb and forefinger, and lick her fingers to spread the wetness over her pink, pebbled flesh. He ate slowly, enjoying his private peep show too much to want it to end. Watching her play with herself still excited him like nothing else. When he was full, he crawled around the breakfast tray and tumbled her to the mattress beneath him. He suckled her ni**les until she was clinging to his hair and moaning with need.

He lifted her apron and discovered that she’d completely shaved her mound. “I see dessert,” he said.

“That’s supposed to be for later.”

“I can have multiple desserts today. It’s my birthday.” He slid down her body and suckled her smooth, swollen lips, teased her clit with his tongue, and licked at her slick hole to sample her sweet juices.

“Oh, Eric,” she moaned. “I want you.”

He slipped a finger inside her and rotated it in wide circles while he sucked hard on her clit.

Her back arched. “Oh wait. I’m gonna come. Eric!”

Her body shuddered with release. She strained against his hand, her pu**y gripping his finger in delightful spasms. When she went limp, he pulled his finger free and placed a tender kiss on her pretty folds, loving how exposed they looked when clean-shaven. He slid up her body to smile down at her flushed face.

“It’s your birthday,” she said breathlessly. “I’m not supposed to get the presents.”

“That was a present for both of us.” He lowered his head to kiss her jaw, her neck, her ear.

She stiffened beneath him. “Wait! I’ve been planning this for a week, and you’re messing with my agenda here.”

If he hadn’t been so curious about her plans, he would have said to hell with them, but he was. Curious. She slipped from beneath him and scampered off the bed. She collected his breakfast tray and nodded toward the connecting bathroom. “Your next surprise is in there.”

He watched the apron ties bounce against her sweet little bottom as she trotted out of the room. As soon as she was out of sight, Eric scrambled into the bathroom. On the sink, he found a red box with a large yellow bow. Happy 2nd Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah

He lifted the lid and found a white poof inside. The kind she used in the shower. Beneath it was a little card. Wait for me in the shower.

He used the toilet and then stepped into the shower, letting the water wet his naked body. A moment later, Rebekah entered the bathroom. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and nothing else. She stepped into the shower with him, still wearing the T-shirt. At first, he wasn’t sure why, but as the T-shirt got wet, it became completely transparent and clung to her curves in a way that was somehow sexier than naked flesh.

He mumbled something incoherent and reached for her br**sts, cupping them beneath the T-shirt, squeezing them so that her darkened ni**les strained against the transparent wet cloth. Oh God. He wanted them. Wanted her. He lowered his head and sucked one breast, shirt and all, into his mouth. “There you go giving me presents again,” she murmured in a husky voice. “Where’s the present I gave you?”

He had no idea. He lifted his head to look at her, and when confronted by that wet T-shirt again, he couldn’t even remember what she’d asked him. Apparently, she found what she was looking for in his left hand. She turned to retrieve a bottle of liquid soap from the caddy on the wall. His gaze drifted to the tattoo on her lower back and then the sweet curves of her naked ass. She turned again and began to draw the poof over his chest, leaving foamy suds on his skin as she washed him with slow, deliberate motions.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her tits.

She soaped his shoulders. His arms. His back. His belly. It felt wonderful. He felt special and loved. And really f**king horny.