Cupid's Beau: A Man of the Month Club Novella: A Small Town, instalove, grumpy sunshine, celebrity, fake dating Romance by Imani Jay

Author:Imani Jay [Jay, Imani]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2025-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

4

Chapter 4

I wake slowly to early morning light and the sound of waves. For a moment, I’m disoriented - this isn’t my room at the inn or my apartment. Then I feel Jack’s arm around my waist, his chest warm against my back, and memories of last night flood back.

His lips on my skin. The way he whispered my name. How he touched me like he was memorizing every inch. Then fucked me stupid. Making me come so hard I forgot my own name. His tenderness afterward as he pulled me close, and kissed me.

Now his breathing is deep and even, his body curled protectively around mine. I should probably feel awkward or uncertain, but instead I feel… safe. Fucking amazing, actually.

I must move slightly because his arm tightens, pulling me closer in his sleep. His face is buried in my hair, and I can feel his heart beating steady and strong against my back.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Jack rumbles against my neck, his sexy voice rough with sleep.

I smile. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Was.” His lips brush my shoulder. “Until someone started overthinking.”

“I’m not overthinking.” I turn in his arms to face him. His hair is adorably mussed, stubble darkening his jaw. He looks fucking good enough to eat. “Just… processing.”

“Processing what?” His eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there’s something else creeping into them.

I trace a finger along his collarbone, shrugging. “Everything.”

He catches my hand, brings it to his lips. For a moment, I think he might say something. Instead, he rolls away and sits up.

“I should make coffee.”

I watch him pull on sweatpants and pad to the bathroom, shoulders tense. The warmth from moments ago dissipates like morning fog, leaving me uncertain.

By the time I make it downstairs Jack’s in the kitchen, focused on the coffee maker. Fuck, his walls are back up - I can see it in the rigid line of his spine, the careful distance he maintains.

“Jack?”

“Coffee’s almost ready.” His voice is cold. Nothing like the man who growled my name into my pussy last night.

His phone buzzes on the counter. He’s been ignoring calls since we arrived, but this time he grabs it, stepping on the deck to answer.

I watch through the window as he paces, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Even with the glass between us, I can feel the tension emanating from every line of his body.

The coffee maker beeps. I pour two mugs, but by the time I turn around, Jack’s heading upstairs.

“Work call,” he says without looking at me. “Need to handle some things.”

I stand in the kitchen holding two cooling mugs of coffee, trying to reconcile this distant stranger with the man who held me like I was precious just hours ago. The man who danced with me, who kissed me like he never wanted to stop, who whispered things against my skin that made me shiver. The man who was inside me most of last night…

Maybe this is why his relationships never last.

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