Page 24 of One Weekend in Los Angeles

He crawled back into the bed, gathered me close, and kissed down the curve of my neck. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

I wanted to believe his words. But I’d seen his ex. Tall, thin, with zero curves. As if sensing my doubt, he pulled away the sheet I’d gathered up over my body.

“Don’t believe me? Then I’ll have to show you.”

Yes, please.

Chapter Fourteen

DEACON

Ibegan writing songs when I was twelve and couldn’t get a beat or a verse out of my head. Often, I found inspiration in a story, a place, or a feeling, before bringing it all to life with a cadence and rhyming words. The creative process was different for everyone, but mine typically required that I have solitude. I needed to clear my mind of any interference or interruption and hyperfocus on my creative process.

Yet this morning I’d been inspired without any of that. Inspired to pick up my guitar and strum some chords while observing how the morning light showed the light sprinkling of freckles across Andrea’s nose and made her skin glow.

When she woke and smiled, it was as if I had my first line writing itself in front of me.

From her kissable lips to her hair all a mess, Andrea Foreman was stunning. The fact she had no idea of this made it intoxicating to watch her confidence flourish.

She sat up in bed, the sheet regrettably covering her gorgeous body. A body I’d ravished twice last night and wasn’t nearly done with.

“Sorry if I woke you.” My apology didn’t ring true given how sexy she looked just now.

The slow smile that played over her lips made my desire for her flare. “Can’t think of a better way to wake up.”

I set the guitar against the wall and crawled back into the bed, hovering over her so I could dip down to give her a kiss. “I can think of one better way.”

If we only had the weekend, I was determined to squeeze as much out of it as I could.

Peeling down the sheet, exposing the full image of her naked form, I paused before letting my eyes wander down in order to lock my gaze on hers. “If you could see a fraction of what I see, you’d walk around my house naked and proud of your body.”

I kissed down her chest to make my point and didn’t stop until I was hovering over her seriously addictive pussy.

“Let me shower,” she protested.

I rolled my eyes. “What did I tell you about how I liked my pussy?”

Her eyes went wide, but I could tell by the trembling of her body that she was turned on. “Tell me, Andi.”

“You like it tasting like pussy.”

Having her give me my words was such a turn-on. “Damn right. And having it smell like sex and your lips swollen from me being inside of you last night makes it irresistible.”

I swiped my tongue through her seam. “Fucking delicious.”

“Jesus. I—” She clawed at the sheets when I fastened my lips around her clit and sucked gently.

“You what? Tell me.” I was selfish in wanting her words, but I couldn’t help it. If her ex was half as greedy as he appeared, it was guaranteed he hadn’t been a generous lover.

“I’ve never felt like this. So consumed and overwhelmed, and, oh, God⁠—”

Her body shuddered when I put two fingers inside of her. There were few things I found more satisfying than playing guitar, but this, this was another level. “You’re so wet for me. So ready.”

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Grab my hair and show me how much you want to come.”

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging and massaging, demonstrating the depth of her desire. There was nothing hotter than watching her take what she wanted without apology.