Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
He shifted slightly, a soft sound escaping his throat, and I held my breath. His arm tightened around me for just a moment before he seemed to surface from sleep.
“Mmph,” he mumbled, burrowing his head into his pillow, voice rough with sleep. “Fuck.”
I stayed perfectly still, wondering if I should pretend to be asleep, too. Give him space to process. But then he turned his head slightly, and I felt his lips brush the shell of my ear.
“Damn it,” he muttered, so quietly I almost missed it. “Now you’ve ruined me for morning wood.”
Heat flooded my face. This unguarded honesty, this admission that what we’d done had affected him as much as it had me, was only because he thought I was still sleeping.
“I heard that,” I whispered back, opening my eyes.
Foster went completely still. “Shit.”
“Your ears are turning red,” I added, unable to keep the smile out of my voice.
“Christ, Tommy.” He started to pull away, but I caught his wrist.
“Don’t,” I said softly. “Please. Not yet.”
For a moment, we lay there as the morning light grew stronger around us. Then, Foster’s thumb traced a small circle on my hip bone as he arched his hard cock against my hip. I had to bite back a groan.
“We should probably get up,” he said but made no move to do so.
“Smart thinking.”
“Breakfast starts in an hour.”
“Sure does.”
Foster’s thumb continued its lazy pattern. “People will notice if we’re late.”
“An observant group for sure.”
I felt rather than saw his smile against my shoulder. “You’re not helping.”
“Wasn’t trying to.”
Finally, inevitably, Foster did pull away, sitting up and running both hands through his sleep-messed hair. The sight of him—bare-chested, dark hair sticking up at odd angles, a faint red mark on his collarbone that I barely remembered making—sent a fresh wave of want through me.
“Coffee,” he said, like it was a magic word that would solve all our problems.
“Good plan.”
What followed was the most erotically charged coffee preparation in the history of caffeine.
The cabin, which had seemed merely small before, now felt like a dollhouse. Every movement required negotiating around each other, every task an exercise in spatial awareness that had nothing to do with efficiency and everything to do with the way Foster’s sleep pants hung low on his hips, the thin fabric highlighting the outline of his full cock.
I’d never spent so much time thinking about another man’s dick before, and suddenly I was obsessed.
Focus.
“Can you—” I started, reaching for the coffee filters.
“If you just—” Foster moved at the same time, moving toward the pot next to the supply caddy.
“Move your—” We both stopped, me pressed against the tiny table with Foster’s chest nearly touching my back as he reached around me for the pot.
We froze like that, his arm bracketing me against the table, his breath warm on the back of my neck. The heat radiating off his skin seared through me and the lingering scent of sleep mixed with a faded hit of masculine deodorant did more to wake me up than coffee ever could.
“Tommy,” he said quietly, and there was a warning in his voice.
“Foster,” I replied, intentionally matching his tone.
His free hand came to rest on my hip, thumb finding that same spot that had driven me crazy moments before. “We’re going to be late.”
“Are we?” I leaned back slightly, just enough to feel the solid warmth of his chest. “Oooh. Your pulse just spiked, Sheriff Blake.”
“Stop that.”
“Stop what? Making medical observations?”
“You know what.” But his thumb didn’t stop its movement, and he didn’t step away.
“Ah, am I being a professional distraction again? I seem to have a habit of that.” I turned in the circle of his arms, suddenly feeling braver than I had any right to. “You keep looking at me like you’re annoyed, but your ears turn red every time I stretch.”
Foster’s eyes darkened. “You want to keep poking, Doc? Go ahead and find out what happens.”
The challenge in his voice sent heat straight through me. “Yeah, I do. I’ve heard that poking a bear results in a physical and aggressive response.”
For a heartbeat, I thought I’d pushed too far. That I’d brought our secret nighttime activities into the morning and across some unspoken boundary of his. Foster’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something that might have been frustration or desire or both. Then he stepped closer, until my ass was pushed against the table, and then further, forcing me to lean back and brace myself on one arm. His big hands bracketed me on either side, closing me in.
“Mm. I believe this is called agonistic display,” I said softly, even as my heart hammered against my ribs. “When wild animals try to intimidate their prey.”
“That right?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you find me intimidating, Dr. Marian?”
“Maybe a little. And clearly I’m here for it,” I said, letting my gaze drop meaningfully to where our hard cocks were now pressed together before meeting his eyes again.