The Billionaire's Runaway Bride (Breckenridge Book 1) by Emery Cruz

Author:Emery Cruz [Cruz, Emery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Lauren

I’m not hungover when I awake late the next morning. We didn’t drink too much, just enough to lend a filter to the night. I was already sobering up when we came into the hotel room and the sex shocked me clear to all my senses. The sweet things Caleb said got through to me too. It wasn’t the alcohol talking. When he said he wanted me, I believed him. He didn’t need to tell me how badly he wanted me. I saw it. I felt it.

I moan as I stretch my arms and legs against him, once more in a tight spooning hold. The motion pushes my bare ass against his groin, and he grunts as he wakes, tightening his muscled arm around me.

“Morning,” he says sleepily.

I hum in response.

“Sleep well?” he asks as he traces his fingers over my stomach, a lazy figure eight. A wide yawn follows.

I nod and snuggle back against him.

“How are you feeling?”

Smiling, I sigh and roll to face him. “Sore.”

He blinks his dark eyes and regards me with a knowing smile. I’m feeling the effects of every one of his pounding thrusts into me last night, and the tender area wakes me more, wondering if he’d ‘help me feel better’ right now.

“You’re not very vocal in the morning, are you?”

I shake my head. “Coffee.”

He closes the distance to kiss me, and he quickly proves that sex might be a much more exciting way to wake up.

Eventually, we both give in to getting up. It’s not a vacation, at least it isn’t for me. Caleb volunteered to help at the Goldfinch, and while it’s not a paid or highly obligatory position to be in, I know him well enough that he’s a man of his word and he’ll be there to help. It’s a commitment, and we plan to return quickly.

Marian told me not to hurry, and as we walk to get breakfast in town, Caleb confesses that while she did make that list, she suggested that he make a date out of it. I can’t picture her being upset that we stayed out last night, and she would certainly disapprove of us driving intoxicated.

“She’s a matchmaker, huh?” I ask once we sit down for breakfast. We nabbed a booth at the crowded diner. I thought the bar was decently packed last night, at least for a small town, but it’s even busier in here. From the smells of bacon and strong coffee, it’s no mystery why.

“I think so.” Caleb smiles at me while keeping his attention on the menu. His hand remains on the tabletop, and I enjoy how easy it is to reach out and take it. I rub my thumb over his knuckles, idly relishing the contact. It’s simple. It’s sweet. And it feels natural, so much more natural than any gesture—big or small—that I endured with Jeremy.

“I get the feeling she’s lonely,” he comments. “I’m an outsider looking in. I know that. I’m a misplaced New Yorker used to being surrounded by many.

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