Faked - Karla Sorensen Page 0,55

of pleasure trapped somewhere in my throat when he cursed so hoarsely that I found myself smiling.

For a moment, he wrapped me up in his arms and stayed like that. Just ... unmoving and frozen on a precipice that felt dangerous in how big it was. Like neither of us felt like we were ready for what might unfold when he finally started moving.

He lifted his head, and for a moment, I saw the bewilderment of what I was feeling mirrored on his face.

This is different.

This is big.

Gently, he kissed me.

And then, oh, and then, it wasn't so gentle.

It was perfect, full of rough hands and rough hips and seeking kisses and nips of my teeth along his shoulder.

My body fell apart, a blinding, shattering, explosion at the exact moment that Bauer shouted my name.

He slumped against me, his back sweaty, his arms tight and shaking around my overwhelmed body as I clung to him.

When he finally lifted his head, his dopey grin had me laughing out loud.

Bauer shook his head slowly. "We're about to get very, very creative upstairs."

"Are we?" I could hardly form the words around my beaming grin.

"Oh, yeah." He kissed me. "Or we will, when I can move my legs."

I kissed him back. "I hope you know you'll be carrying me up those stairs, big guy."

His eyes were so happy, so satisfied, that my heart burned bright and warm like a coal. "I think right now, I'd give you just about anything you asked for."

"A bed and you," I said simply.

He hummed against my lips. "That I can do, princess. Hold on tight."

Chapter Seventeen

Bauer

Something out of the ordinary woke me the next morning.

It wasn't the sun streaming brightly through the wall of windows, and it wasn't Claire's delicious body draped over my chest. It wasn't that I needed coffee, or even that Agnes was sitting up on the dresser staring at me with her creepy green eyes.

Yeah, that cat probably saw things last night that she'd never seen before.

I grinned as I thought about all of them.

We'd gotten creative all right.

There were so many things the human body was capable of that didn't end in sex. And for hours—I shit you not, hours—we'd explored all those things until she was limp and sweaty and begging me to keep my hands off her.

My back was sore. My thighs were sore.

And if I pulled back the covers, I'd bet good money that Claire had beard-burn over half of her body from the things I'd done to her after we'd moved upstairs.

Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if, on my death bed, I remembered the sounds she made when I feasted on her entire body until she was cursing at me, clawing at me, begging without an ounce of pride to pull her over the edge.

And turnabout was fair play because once her mouth and hands turned the tables on me, I was just as shameless in the things I'd begged of her.

But no, none of that was what pulled me out of exhaustion fueled slumber late the next morning.

The sound happened again, and I felt my brow pull down in a grimace when I placed it.

Thump.

Scrape.

Thump.

Scrape.

Claire inhaled slowly as she woke, rolling over onto her back, arms stretching over her head.

I turned to my side and grinned at the picture she made. All her dark hair was tangled beyond hope, there were marks all over her chest and neck from my mouth, and the lack of sleep from the night before showed in the dark circles under her eyes.

She was perfection.

I'd never felt this way after spending the night with someone. Not even by half. Somehow, I wanted her even more. Even as my errant thoughts tried to break through, take root, and convince me that there was no way she'd want more with me.

"Morning," she mumbled, giving me a sleepy grin that had my heart twisting painfully in my chest.

"Morning." I leaned down to give her a kiss.

She scrunched her face adorably. "I bet my morning breath is lovely."

"I don't give a shit," I told her. With my thumb, I traced along her bottom lip. "These are worth it."

In the bright morning light, it was a delightful discovery that Claire was unashamed of her nudity because she didn't even attempt to cover her equally delightful breasts using the sheet draped around her waist.

"I hope Scotty has Advil downstairs," she said.

I hummed. "You sore today, princess?"

"Wipe that smug ass grin off your face."

My laughter had her smiling.

The smile was