Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  “Thank you,” I whispered thickly, laying my cheek against his chest and letting the ocean sway me into him.

  “Darlin’, I’m here to listen to you whenever you need to speak, no matter what you need to say nor how much noise you need to make… I’m here because you’re my woman and your voice matters.”

  I wasn’t sure I had any tears left, but I felt them hot and full of heart as they dripped down my cheeks.

  If there had been any doubt left in my mind, it was gone just as surely as Rock Beach was gone from my future—I’d fallen hopelessly in love with my gorgeous Goliath.

  “What can I do?” he queried softly, rubbing slow circles on my low back.

  It was probably time to get out of the water, I was starting to not be able to feel my toes, but I just wasn’t quite ready to leave. I wasn’t quite ready to end this moment. So, I curled in closer to him, relishing the feeling of being completely wrapped up by him.

  “Just hold me,” I whispered.

  His hand cupped the back of my head where my hair that had been pinned up in perfection and now hung loose in disarray.

  “Darlin’, I wasn’t plannin’ on ever lettin’ go.”

  Mick

  I didn’t rush her.

  Not when I couldn’t feel my calves. Not when she shivered against me. And not even when the lights and sounds of the late-night crowds faded from the streets.

  I held her in the midnight waves until they’d washed away all the tears she was ready to cry, and she finally looked up at me and asked if I would take her home.

  Home didn’t mean Rock Beach.

  Home meant with me.

  She didn’t protest when I lifted her up in my arms and carried her out of the water, picking up her shoes and her unanswered cell along the way. And I didn’t set her down until we were in the middle of my bedroom.

  My pulse thudded like holding her was a strain. And it was. Just not a physical one. It was a strain to feel her soft curves pressed against me. It was a strain to feel her fingers against my chest, wrapping themselves in my shirt like they were trying to burrow underneath.

  It was a strain to have the woman I wanted in my arms—in my bedroom—and maintain my restraint.

  Carefully, I release her legs, sliding her slowly down my front until her toes touched the floor. With a low grunt, my dick heavy and aching, I met her gaze as it searched for mine. Her eyes said a lot of things, but they screamed desire.

  My head dipped down, unable to resist her and the sweetness of her kiss. But the patch of red on the side of her cheek, a temporary reminder of what she’d been through tonight, stopped me cold.

  Not tonight, Mick. Christ, get your dick under control.

  Clearing my throat, I jerked my head to the side and stepped back a respectable distance. A safe distance from her wet and wanting temptation.

  “Let me get you something dry,” I mumbled roughly, reaching for the top drawer of my dresser and pulling out a clean t-shirt.

  When I turned back, I saw her fully for the first time all evening.

  And it was a sight that took this simple man’s breath.

  The wind had had its way with her hair, taking what was wound up tight and relaxing its hold, a few caramel strands escaping altogether. My mouth dried, my gaze drifting down her body.

  Her dress looked like a fairy had made it. The way the dusky blue fabric molded to her and highlighted her curves was nothing short of magical. The lace on the top clinging to her tits and making my hands burn with the memory of their feel. There was a silk ribbon around her waist, separating the lace from the sheer material of the skirt that darkened where it was drenched with ocean water. And I itched to undo it all.

  No, I itched to rip it off her like a giant savage. To gently tear back each flimsy later until she was all skin and sun underneath my fingertips.

  My dick swelled demandingly against my jeans, already pissed from being trapped against her for so long.

  “Goin’ to be big again, but at least it’s dry.” I grunted and handed the shirt to her with a strained smile.

  “It’s perfect,” she said, her breathless tone jolting my pulse to a thundering pace. But when she bit into her plump lower lip, my cock turned to hot, solid stone.

  Damn, this was a bad idea.

  I wasn’t going to make it through the night.

  “I’ll let you change.” Clearing my throat, I spun and bolted from the room, shutting the door behind me, and searching for anything to keep my desire from ripping me to shreds.

  Grabbing my cell, I quickly typed out a message to Laurel, surprised she hadn’t called in Eli and Covington Cavalry to hunt down her cousin.

  Groaning, I sank onto the orange ottoman and dropped my head into my hands. As much as I wanted to focus on what they’d done to her, I couldn’t. I couldn’t focus on what I wanted to do to them, the only thing I could think about was what I needed to do for her.

  “Mick…”

  My head snapped up almost as quickly as my jaw dropped like an anvil.

  I hadn’t thought this through. Not in the least.

  I could see every shadowed nuance of her naked body underneath my shirt.

  I could trace the soft swells of her tits right down to where her nipples poked against the Madison Construction logo. And no matter how big it was, the hem fell right at that sweet spot on her thighs were it was low enough to cover what I wanted to see, but high enough that it took every ounce of strength to hold me back from ripping it off her to see more.

  Christ.

  I ducked my eyes before they burned a goddamn hole through the fabric.

  “I’ll—” I cleared my throat and stared at the ground between my feet, offering, “I’ll sleep out here on the couch. You can have the…”

  Her bare toes entered my view.

  I sucked in a harsh breath when her hand came next. Small, soft fingers reached under my chin. Swallowing down what felt like a ten-pound weight in my throat, I let her lift my gaze back to hers.

  “Jules,” I rasped, her sugar and sea-salt scent invading my senses and making my mouth water.

  “I want you to sleep with me,” she stated calmly.

  Her hair was still up but any lingering trace of sadness from her face was gone, like for the rest of tonight, the world and the people in it who’d hurt her no longer mattered.

  Like nothing else mattered except being with me.

  “Darlin’, I don’t think I can do that and not…” I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, my erection about to combust with just the mention of making her mine.

  “I know,” she murmured, and before I could do anything about it, she slid her knees one at a time on either side of my legs and sank onto my lap.

  It was official, giving her my shirt was the best bad idea I’d ever had.

  My heart hammered like a freight train barreling through my chest.

  “Jules, what are you doin’ to me?”

  Her fingers slid along my jawline, over the coarseness of my beard, and threaded into my hair.

  “Reminding you to stop being a gentleman,” she replied softly, the rest of her assertion going unsaid that what I was thinking was right, wasn’t right for her.

  “You’re upset, darlin’.” I fought for restraint even as my hands found their way to her hips, my thumbs rubbing gently over her stomach that was a thin strip of fabric away. “I just don’t want you to regret it.”

  She bristled and those sweet lips of hers turned into a frown. Right then, I knew I was losing this fight. And I wasn’t a bit upset about it.

  “Tonight made me realize a lot of things, Mick, and one of those is that I’m going to have to look back on my life and regret a lot of moments—a lot of choices that I should’ve made differently.” Her head bent down until I felt each soft breath from every word she spoke. “I’ve spent a lifetime holding back from the things I wanted because someone I loved decided to make a better decision for me, and I refuse to do it anymore.”

 
; I groaned, desire busting through all the restraints I’d been wrapping around it.

  “I know what I want, and I’ve spent long enough keeping those wants to myself that there is no mistaking them. I won’t regret this. I can’t.” She paused and I waited for the final straw—for the tiny stone that would drop me to my knees. “I know my heart wants you.”

  Like there was any goddamn protest I could make to that… and if there was, she didn’t give me a chance before she sealed her mouth over mine.

  Lust exploded through my body like my bones had been lined with desire dynamite. There was no stopping this. There was nothing that would keep me from me. Her lips were warm and soft and so damn sweet.

  Growling, I slid my tongue along the seam of her lips, savoring their warm and sweet softness, and begging to be let inside.

  She pulled back, both of us left panting. “Unless you don’t want to—”

  I silenced her mouth with mine, unwilling to hear the rest of that statement. Cupping her face, I angled it, giving my tongue the greatest access to the hot heaven of her mouth.

  And it wasn’t just her future my woman was done being silent about.

  With a wanton moan that rocketed straight to my weeping cock, she looped her arms around my neck and began to climb onto my lap.

  “Not here,” I grunted, locking one hand around the back of her neck and using the other to hook her legs around my waist.

  White fire burst in my vision when I stood, her torso lengthening against mine, pressing her thinly-clad tits against my chest, and wedging my heavy arousal between her naked thighs. Focusing on her mouth and relying on muscle memory, I carried her back into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind me.

  “Jesus, Jules,” I exhaled against her lips, feeling her squirm against me.

  Outside this room, outside this apartment, I would always be a gentleman. I would always be polite and courteous because that was how my momma had raised me. But in my bed… with her… I wouldn’t stop the feral desire to claim every inch of her sweet body until she wasn’t only speakin’, but screamin’ my name.

  “Mick…” she whimpered, her lips swollen from my kisses, plump and red and looking so damn delicious.

  Groaning, I unhooked her legs from my waist, letting her long, lithe form slide down my front, torturin’ each inch along the way.

  She held my gaze, steady and impatient. Waiting for more.

  My hands that were normally pretty damn coordinated as a carpenter fumbled to grasp the hem of the shirt I’d just given her before gently pulling it over her head.

  Stocking air in my lungs, I forced myself to slow down the moment. To savor everything about this woman who was like the rarest of gems—both strong and beautiful in so many ways. Every part of me screamed to step back and take a look because it’s not every day a mere mortal gets to behold a goddess. But my heart hammered louder for something else.

  My fingers skated along the sides of her arms, her soft skin marked with a smattering of goose bumps, and then up the velvet column of her neck until they reached her hair. Even with some strands hanging like determined revolutionaries, it was still mostly pinned up with the white flower clipped on one side.

  She shuddered with each little pin I pulled out of her hair, as though every silken strand I freed bared more of her than removing the last stitch of her clothing.

  It was a simple gesture, taking out the things that held her hair captive and letting it fall free, but it was meaningful. I didn’t want what was only on the surface. I didn’t want what could be made up to sparkle and impress. I wanted her—all of her.

  Her doubts. Her determination. Her voice.

  And I damn sure wanted her body, but I wouldn’t take it without her heart.

  And each pin that fell was like the stone that had taken down Goliath, the smallest possible weapon, the promise of her heart, would be the thing that brought me to my knees. And like most momentous occasions, the silence between us was so resounding that our breaths held in order to hear each pin drop onto the rough carpet to be dealt with later.

  Finally, when the mass caved under the weight, her long curls that looked like they’d been sliced from the finest, richest chocolate fell down her back and over her shoulder. In awe, I ran my fingers through some of the strands. Her small moan of satisfaction shooting desire right to the tip of my cock, making it spasm with need.

  “So damn beautiful,” I mumbled in awe. “Even my dreams never dreamt of this moment.”

  “I want to see you,” she pleaded, lust weaving like a drug through her gaze.

  I groaned. That was walking a dangerously fine line with how badly I wanted her, but I couldn’t deny her. Not now. Not ever.

  Reaching over my shoulder, I fisted my t-shirt and began to pull it over my head. A low hiss slid through my teeth when her hands found their way to my sides and followed the shirt up and over my abdomen. Letting it fall to the floor, I looked down to see her dainty hands splayed over my chest, marking me as her own—scorching her fingerprints into the fabric of my cells.

  But that was only the start.

  I stood paralyzed as her fingers moved, tracing over the lines of my pecs, brushing back and forth over my flat nipples before sliding lower over the hills and valleys of my abs.

  Breathe, dammit.

  My jaw clenched. I wasn’t flexing on purpose. Hell, I wasn’t big on being admired first. From previous experience, I learned it wasn’t the biggest turn-on for a woman to wonder if I might crush her during sex. But Jules had no fear, only hungry admiration as she greedily mapped every inch of skin I’d exposed.

  My eyes drifted shut, desperate to cling to any thread of restraint before I became the beast my size promised I could be.

  “Let me—”

  “Fuck.” The curse slipped out when she wiggled her fingers under the waist of my jeans, flipping the button open and about to drag down the zipper when my hand caught hers.

  Clasping her wrists with one hand, I lifted them to my chest, promised with a low, strangled voice, “Darlin’, any more of that, and I’ll be dead and gone before I even get a chance to worship you.”

  Her lips parted in shock, but her eyes—her determined eyes—flicked back to where my jeans had shifted and hung low on my hips, revealing the thick, protruding ridge of my dick against my briefs.

  Growling, I yanked her back against me and covered her lips with mine.

  Instantly, her lips parted and beckoned me to deepen the kiss, our tongues meeting in slides of wet silk tangling with one another. Innocent. Erotic. Mine.

  Latching my hands to the curve of her waist, I backed her up against the edge of my bed.

  Tearing my mouth from hers, I stepped back, gasping for breath. “I just… I just need to look at you.”

  A golden goddess.

  All smooth skin that looked like she bathed in liquid sunlight. My mouth watered as my eyes locked on her nipples, the pebbled apricot peaks sitting atop the most perfect breasts I’d ever seen. Even lower, the flat plane of her stomach widened into hips that my hands belonged on. And between her thighs…

  All of her was mine.

  I gripped over my cock to the point of pain in order to stop it from exploding. Black spots detonated in my vision, and I sank to my knees in a trance at her feet.

  “M-Mick?” She looked down at me with concern.

  I pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, right above where my mouth was headed next, before I met her gaze.

  “Darlin’.” My voice broke. “I wish I knew enough of the right words to tell you how beautiful you are.”

  A tremulous smile cascaded over her face. “I’m tired of being told,” she informed me thickly, threading one hand through my hair. “I’d rather be shown.”

  I didn’t need any more encouragement.

  With a growl, I grabbed her hips and sank my tongue into the entrance of her pussy and licked until I reached her clit. My hands lifted and held her to me as her legs quaked and gave way.

>   “Mick!” she cried out, clinging to my head like it was her salvation as I delved my tongue into her slickness.

  Distantly, I heard her moans of pleasure, but all I could think about was the way she tasted like sweet simple syrup under my tongue.

  It didn’t take long before I guided her onto the bed and tugged her knees up over my shoulders, allowing me to feast on her swollen pussy.

  “Anyone ever kiss you here?” I demanded roughly.

  “No.” She shuddered and then gasped.

  My tongue wasn’t a gentleman when it showed her just how much her answer pleased me. I flicked over her clit, drinking down every rush of desire it caused as she writhed underneath me. Each drive of my tongue. Each teasing penetration. Each draw of her swollen sex between my lips. It all drove her wild—it all set her free.

  I loved hearing her make noise. She’d been taught to be ashamed of so many things—so many good, natural things—that it would’ve ripped raw another piece of my heart if she’d held back her pleasure from me. So, I gave her more with each moan until they blurred together, their melody, like a siren’s song, sank right into my marrow and re-wrote my DNA to be solely a servant to her pleasure.

  “Oh, God, Mick…”

  My tongue flicked over her clit in a steady rhythm, making her body clench and gush on my lips. And she didn’t hold back. She held my head hard to her and ground her pussy against my mouth, knowing what was coming, knowing what I was going to give her.

  What only I was going to give her.

  And then her whole body tensed, her heels digging into my back, and my name escaped like a screaming heartbeat from her lips as she came, and it was the most exquisite thing I’d ever witnessed.

  Though, in a few minutes, I knew that assessment would be topped.

  Slowly, her shudders slowed, and I allowed myself one last taste before I disentangled myself from her limbs and rose up above her. Then, I felt the damage devouring her sweet pussy had done to my cock; its needs completely muted until now. Until its aching throb made my breaths shallow and my blood pump with only one thought.

  I needed to be inside her.