He wobbles his head. “Maybe, but tell me I’m wrong.”
I press my lips together, unable to truly suppress the grin that formed. “You’re not wrong.”
“Good. Now, I’d appreciate it if you took your own advice from earlier and got into the moment with me. Where was I?”
“Kissing me stupid…”
“Ah, yes,” he teases. “Then I put you up on the counter in hopes of indulging in a little sweet treat.” His eyes flick over to the syrup that has yet to be put away after breakfast this morning.
“Don’t youdare, Caleb,” I huff.
He grabs the bottle and flips open the cap, fixing me with a devilish smirk. “Oh, I dare. I like to live on the edge, remember?”
“That is going to get so sticky!”
He flicks out his tongue. “Not if I’m as good with this as you say I am…”
Involuntarily, my thighs start to clench at the thought of just how good he is with that tongue, but his body being between them doesn’t allow for them to close.
He lifts up the hem of my shirt, drizzling a thin line of syrup across my lower stomach. He dips in low, never taking his eyes off mine as he licks it back up, making a show of it for me, with a teasing grin still plastered on his face. I shake my head, but can’t keep the amusement out of my expression.
He licks his lips. “Shall I keep going?” he signs with his free hand.
“Y-yes,” I manage to stammer, though it does come out sounding an awful lot like a moan.
God, yes.I’m so friggin’ turned on right now. I sure hope Marcus takes Brody out for lunch or something after his appointment because if I’m about to become a sticky, syrupy mess of Caleb’s doing, I better be sexed up and showered before they get back.
“Get naked for me, baby,” Caleb tells me. “Then get comfortable up there. You’re a feast I intend to take my time savoring.”
“Oh, uh—I’m not sure how much time you should take. Brody could pop right in at any second…”
“You didn’t read our group chat, did you? Marcus let us know he was taking Brody out for a ‘dude day,’ and since he was out to let him know if there was anything he needed to brave the grocery stores for before Thanksgiving…”
“Oh.”
“I get to take my time with you,” he reiterates. “And I can’t imagine there being a better way to celebrate both of our wins today—you choosing a career move that will sit right in your soul, and also us planning our future with Aaron in it.”
Suddenly a song lyric flits around in my head, and I can’t help but smirk. Caleb’s brows pinch. “What’s that look for?” he asks me.
“You know how you like your eighties music? Well, I’m still stuck in the nineties era, and right now, I’ve got a Dave Matthew’s Band song stuckin my head.Ant's Marching,” I tell him as I strip off my shirt and slingshot my bra across the room.
He waggles his eyebrows now, while tugging his own shirt over his head. He pauses and signs, “Life is certainly short and sweet, so celebrate, we will.” He leans in and suckles one of my nipples before releasing it with a resoundingpop.
I giggle. “You know, if you ever got sick of being a lobster fisherman, you’d make a good concert interpreter…”
He shakes his head. “And miss out on all this domesticity by being out on the road all the time, living the rockstar life? Not a chance.”
“I thought you craved that kind of lifestyle,” I note as I lay back, slipping off my pants and underwear.
When I pop up to rest back against my elbows, I take in the sight of him, really appreciating his body. He’s muscley, but not over the top—just enough to accentuate his strength. Even his scar, raised and ragged as it is, isn’t a flaw on him. He rocks the hell out of it. Even in his silence, his body language—the look in his eyes—screamsseduction.
Hell, he may even be sexier than Dean Winchester, and to think—he looks atmeas if I’m the sexiest woman alive.
He leans in and over me, hips resting on the edge of the countertop between my thighs, then winks. “That was before I settled down. Now, I have cravings for something different…”
He drizzles a line of syrup starting between my breasts, down my body, stopping right above my pantyline. My back arches off the cool granite when his hot mouth goes to work, cleaning the gooey liquid, making sure to nip and lick at the droplets that stray from the line. He works his way up my body, slowly climbing on the countertop with me as he does.
When he laps the last bit off from between my breasts, he drizzles more on both my nipples. The coolness of the syrup causes me to suck in a breath before I whimper at the feel of the contrast in temperature when his hot tongue flicks and sucks the mess away—paying equal parts attention to both sides. I make a mental note that sensory play might be an unexplored kink of mine, because this feels…sogood.
