Page 7 of Beards and Babies

My words are muffled in the sheets, too blissed out with each hard thrust.

Sweat beads on my skin, and his fingertips burn at my hips. I need to come.

“Soren!”

As fast as lightning striking, my orgasm rips out of me at the touch of his fingers on my ultrasensitive clit. He rubs it out of me while I reach back to grab his hair, pulling his face to the side of mine. Those titan hips buck faster, and when I scream his name, his body seizes, then he pours his release inside me.

My name is the last thing to fall from his lips, and we collapse onto the mattress and pass out.

CHAPTERFOUR

Soren

“Is there any way to postpone the voyage? Maybe, leave on Monday?”

“Somethin’ wrong? This is National Geographic. They’re not going to wait.”

“Everyone needs time off. We just pulled in yesterday.”

“The film crew alone cost hundreds of thousands of dollars a day, Soren. This trip is a national project you’ve been a part of for over a year. Why would you want to take the weekend off? Yesterday, you didn’t want to port? What’s with the whiplash man?”

Connor, my assistant and apprentice of sorts, has a valid point. The problem is leaving Robin…and I really don’t want to.

If my beard wasn’t so bushy after her ass riding it, she’d see me pouting right now.

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’.”

Her coy smile as she comes out of her room makes me smile.

“Alright, man. I got to go. See you soon,” I tell Connor and hang up, wanting to give every second of my attention to her.

Last night blew my mind. Hell, it’s still blowing my mind and will forever be my favorite memory.

I don’t want to leave. My feet weigh a hundred pounds each.

Instead of hurrying out the door as I should, I’m holding up the boat for the first time in my career. All morning, I pondered a way to stay, but Connor isn’t ready for a job like this, and the entire project will fall through without me. I’ve never felt bitterness toward my job before now…but as Robin tucks her brown hair behind her ear, showing me her beautiful face, I swear I’m in love.

I hand her a cup of coffee and move closer, needing to feel her. To reassure myself last night really happened. We were both drinking, and I need her to tell me we’re okay, that we didn’t ruin anything and still have a chance. Somehow.

“I have to leave. Ocean’s calling,” I say to her forehead, too scared to look her in the eye. Last night wasn’t just fucking. I’ve never felt such an intense connection to someone before.

“Lame. When will you be back?”

“A few months, unless we run into trouble. We’re filming a documentary, and something usually goes batshit crazy. Or someone,” I try to joke, ignoring the tight pain in my chest.

“Sounds like a grand adventure. Just what the Indiana Jones of the Sea needs.”

“I’ve had a million adventures. I’d rather stay here.”

Her smile is sweet but restrained. I get it. I live a completely unstable life. Take right now, for instance. I’m leaving for an uncertain amount of time, unable to promise anything.

“If only, the ocean didn’t call.”

“Can I see you again? Will you unblock me?”

That makes her laugh, but her eyes remain sad.

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