Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
I gave him a sassy grin. “Guilty.”
“And maybe the second time, too, when you took your sweet time getting on your hands and knees for me. I should have smacked your ass right then and there, but I was more interested in tapping that ass.”
I laughed. “I have to say, your recovery time is impressive,” I teased him.
Shockingly, there hadn’t been much downtime on his part between each orgasm, though he had used those brief respites to do wicked things to my body with his mouth and hands, which had clearly aroused him all over again.
He caressed the sting on my bottom with his hand, his eyes holding mine. “If I’m being honest, it’s been a while. I’ve got a lot to make up for.”
Surprise rippled through me, because I couldn’t imagine a virile man like Caleb depriving himself of those pleasures. “How long?” I asked curiously.
He hesitated a moment. “A year.”
My jaw dropped open in shock, and he chuckled and pushed my mouth shut. “Dating hasn’t been a priority with work, Owen, and this custody case hanging over my head and Alyssa scrutinizing everything I do to use it to her advantage. And I’m not the type to troll bars or dating apps for a quick lay with a stranger. It’s not my style.”
Which made our night together…special? My traitorous heart skipped a beat, and I immediately dismissed that fanciful thought, even if our time together had been amazing thus far. But that’s all this was, I reminded myself. One night. No promises or expectations of anything more.
But it was rare to find a man in his prime who didn’t seek female company, for the sole purpose of sexual release. It was actually refreshing. “It’s not my style, either,” I told him.
I’d always strived for meaningful relationships when it came to physical intimacy, and not casual sex for the sake of it. It was even difficult to define tonight with Caleb as casual, not when I really liked him on a personal level and it already felt as though we’d developed a more meaningful connection that had nothing to do with sex.
A smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he tucked a disheveled strand of hair behind my ear, his touch sweet and tender. “So, if my recovery time is impressive, it’s because I want tonight with you, and every orgasm, to count.”
Well, okay then.
That one night was hammered home again. Disappointing, but I understood and respected his reasons. Especially considering he’d just told me that his ex-wife scrutinized everything he did during their ongoing custody suit. Which had to be exhausting, emotionally and mentally. That couldn’t be easy to deal with.
Abruptly, he moved off the bed and stood. “I’ll be right back,” he said, then disappeared into the bathroom where I heard him cleaning up. But when he came back out—still naked—instead of rejoining me he walked out of the bedroom, giving me a great view of his bare, muscular ass as he left.
I heard him doing something down the hall in the kitchen, the sound of drawers opening and closing and something like glass being set on the counter. Figuring he was probably getting a snack, I snuggled under the weight of the softest, most luxurious comforter I’d ever been wrapped up in.
My eyes had just drifted shut when Caleb returned.
“Sit up against the pillows,” he said when he saw me huddled beneath the covers.
I made a grumpy sound. “I was just getting comfortable…and sleepy,” I admitted. “You wore me out.”
“Already?” He chuckled. “You’re a lightweight, and I’m not done with you yet.”
I arched a brow at him, but begrudgingly scooted back up, propping myself against the headboard, the covers falling to my lap as he settled beside me.
I looked at the small, decorative glass dish in his hand, confused by the swirl of brown stuff inside. “What’s that?”
“Chocolate, of course, which I promised you,” he said, reminding me of our aphrodisiac conversation. He dragged a spoon through the treat and waggled his brows at me. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us, so open up.”
I couldn’t resist that mischievous light in his eyes, or the temptation of chocolate, and I did as I was told, accepting the mouthful of…the lightest, most decadent chocolate mousse to ever pass my lips.
I closed my eyes and moaned, the sound similar as to when Caleb made me orgasm. “Oh, my God,” I said, knowing I was probably giving him a swoony look, and it wasn’t for him, but the mousse. “Where did this magically come from?”
He grinned. “My chef made it.”
Of course he had a personal chef.
He dipped the spoon back into the confection. “It’s one of Owen’s favorites, and since he’ll be home tomorrow Marcel made a batch.”
“So I’m stealing one of Owen’s desserts?” I almost didn’t care, it was that good.