“Like them, princess?” His raspy sleep-induced voice gave me chills.
“Yes,” I whisper. I bit my lip to restrain myself from reaching out to his piercings.
His hand snaked up my stripped form, rubbing over my hips and up to my nipples. “Is it morning, or are they just happy to see me?” he teased while flicking one.
A snort escaped me. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” I jested.
“That’d be counterproductive.” He gestured to his straining member. Lowering my hand to his cock, I wasn’t surprised to feel it standing tall.
He made me experience new desires and sensations, and I sure as hell didn’t want it to end.
He grinded into my palm, an aroused glint reflecting in his eyes. “See what I mean?”
He kissed me and then his lips brushed my throat, sending shockwaves to my toes. Would this feeling ever go away? I had the best writing material for Cara and Bo when I headed home. They’d have the best and most beautiful sex ever. A giggle slipped past my lips.
“What, am I tickling you?” He smirked.
“No.” My eyes widened, embarrassment heating my face. I avoided his penetrating gaze. “Just thinking about my book.”
“Any new ideas floating in that gorgeous mind of yours?” He winked.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking, the best kinds of ideas.” I squeezed him and then bit his lip for good measure. “Now be a good teacher, and show me what you’ve got,” I joked, but his gaze penetrated mine, the longing flickering in his irises caught me off guard. Coen had a way of making me feel sexy. No man had ever done that to me before.
But remembering he still hadn’t told me what was up with him last night killed the mood.
“Not to ruin our moment, but we need to discuss your news.”
He cringed, and my heart sank.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Coen ran a hand through his sex-tousled hair, squeezing his eyes closed momentarily. He sighed, his breathing shortened. “I went to the doctor, and it’s nothing good.”
“And?” I prodded.
They said you felt life-altering events before they arrived, but I wasn’t ready for this ball to drop.
“I could ruin my career if I don’t give my knees the accurate care they need. My agent doesn’t care. He wants the Skull Gear sponsorship more than he's concerned about my health.” Coen dropped his head in his hand, breaking my heart with his pain.
“Then don’t go.”
The words left my mouth before I could prepare myself for the severity of my words. Not only were they overbearing and could wreck his dreams, they also admitted how much I truly had fallen for him. It’s too soon.
“As much as I’d love to stay here and spend every waking moment showing you how fucking sexy you are, I have a career to keep. BMX is my life, just as writing is yours.” The pride and emotions on his face reminded me that Carl had never supported my dreams. I won’t be that person to Coen. I refused.
“Is there any way to play it safe?” my sorrowful whisper slipped out. If he hurt himself or became paralyzed in some way, I’d never recover from that guilt.
“They recommended cortisone shots,” he objected, twining his fingers and putting his hands behind his head. “I’ve used them before, but they only numb the pain for a little while. People in the Olympics do it, but I’ve heard it only wears us down more. It can also make you miss signs that you were overdoing it.” He shook his head in disproval.
“What do you think you should do?”
“Something is fishy about the whole ordeal, but I can’t lose contracts this late in the game. I’m the oldest in the sport,” he acknowledged.
I questioned him with my eyes. Finally, he relented.
“I’m fucking terrified, okay?” His voice quaked. His jaw clenched in a flat line that scared me. His arm held up his head, and he rubbed circles over my arm. “If I’m not careful, I can permanently damage my knees. I was stupid before, always pushing myself and not wearing padding. Now, I’m literally at my snapping point. I want to go to make a difference, but I also know I’m risking everything.”
He barely choked out the end. The sadness that consumed him was heartbreaking. Coen always carried so much strength.
“I understand what’s at stake, love. In all honestly, I need to know what you are going to do though,” I said, my anger and frustration leaking out. I needed it spelt out for me.
“Did you just call me, love?” He smirked with that sexy as fuck dimple.
“That’s beside the point.”
He pinned me down, grabbing me by the waist and kissing my throat with fervor. “I think you should only ever be able to call me that,” he murmured against my collarbone before nipping it.
A moan escaped my mouth. “Are you purposefully distracting me?” I whimpered. I bit my lip in pleasure from his assault.
“I couldn’t resist. You taste like goddamn strawberries.” His growl of appreciation set my belly on fire.
Coen Kidd knew how to make me feel desired and sexy. I’ve never wanted a man more than I wanted him. Need coursed through my veins, spreading throughout my body and biting at my resolve.
“Say it again,” he commanded. He nipped on my bottom lip with a groan.
“Are you purposefully distracting me?”
“No, don’t even,” he whined in the manliest way possible.
“Love,” I rasped, trying way too hard to sound erogenous and not to giggle at the absurdity of the request. I failed. A loud chuckle emanated from my chest. Coen was the cutest man out there.
“It was nice while it lasted.” He laughed.
“Can we get back to the hard stuff?” I asked.
Whoops. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling red tint my cheeks.
He placed my hand on his hardened cock. “It’s hard and ready, princess,” he said, his voice gravelly. Coen kissed both of my closed lids.
The talk was all but forgotten when his mouth covered mine, requesting access. His tongue darted inside, teasing mine in a game of tag. He could kiss me any day of the week, and it’d still feel like the first time. His hands made their way up my body, cupping my breasts while kneading my nipple with his thumb.
“I still haven’t given you your present,” he whispered across my lips.
Presents, which I despised, were the last thing on my mind. “Mmhmm.”
“I know you hate gifts, but I’ve got a special one for you.” He kissed my forehead before climbing out of the bed, leaving me flustered and horny as hell.
Of course, he’d be a tease.
He threw on a shirt and some sweatpants that sat low on his hips, and my clit pulsated. She was fairly pissed off at his swift exit. He left, and I wasn’t sure where he ventured to.
Coen returned soon after with a bag that had “You know you want inside of me” written in cursive on it. A snort escaped me.
“What?” His eyebrows rose in question.
“That bag is epic.” I pointed at the quote.
“I thought you’d appreciate the sexual innuendo.” He smiled, his dimple front and center. I could lick it and not regret it for a moment.
He handed the cute bag my way, his happiness barely contained behind the crinkles in his eyes.