Page 53 of Coast

Desire—ridiculous given the situation—pooled in my core, making me press my thighs together to ease the growing ache.

Coast’s gaze flicked to my face, looking for anything akin to objection. But despite knowing I needed to put it to an end, I couldn’t seem to do anything but watch him with heavy-lidded eyes for a moment before letting my own gaze move down, watching his hand as he moved across the top of my chest.

I sucked in a deep breath, making my breasts rise up over the water.

A strange, rumbling sound moved through Coast. Then not a second later, his hand was sliding the cloth down, teasing over my breast.

A little sigh escaped me as he circled around my nipple, working it into a point before moving across my chest to continue the teasing.

My breath grew fast and shallow as the cloth slid under one of the swells, then slipped between and glided downward over my stomach, across my hips.

He paused at the triangle above my sex as my pulse pounded in my temples, throat, chest. As the need grew to something overwhelming, undeniable.

His fingers slipped down just slightly, dragging a choked moan out of me.

My hand shot out, grabbing his wrist.

His gaze shot up to my face, watching me as his hand slipped fully between my thighs, his hand pressing against my panties.

This time, my moan was louder, more frantic, as my thighs clenched around his hand.

His eyes went molten as his fingers found my clit through my panties and started to work me in circles, dragging little mewling sounds out of me.

His fingers were so practiced, so perfect. I’d never been driven up so quickly.

Coast’s hand shifted up, sliding down under my panties, touching me without the barrier.

I damn near came apart right then. But some part of me wanted to drag it out, to get more of what he could offer me.

Coast’s free arm snaked around my back, holding onto me as his thumb started to circle my clit and two of his fingers slipped down, then slowly slid inside me.

My fingernails were digging into his forearm as he drove me relentlessly—but slowly—upward.

My little whimpers and sighs grew to moans as the climax built, surged, then crashed through me, leaving me crying out, my forehead pressed to his shoulder as the waves pulled me under over and over again.

Coast’s hand slid up my back to grab the back of my neck, giving it a squeeze that had no right to be as comforting as it was.

Then he went ahead and started to massage my neck, working out knots that had been there so long I no longer realized how tight the area was.

His hand slid out of me, reaching out to grab my inner thigh instead, making no move to pull away, happy to just be in the moment with me.

Until we both heard Lainey working herself up to a good cry.

“I got her,” Coast said, giving my thigh and neck a squeeze before releasing me. And I could have sworn that I maybe felt his lips on the top of my head.

Or maybe that was just the fever—and wishful thinking—at play.

Coast moved away, washed his hands, placed a towel on the edge of the tub, then made his way out, leaving the door mostly open.

“Hey, Lil’ Bit. What’s going on?” he asked. I could picture him scooping her up, could hear the way her cry started to vibrate as he bopped her until her crying stopped. “Wanna see Mama?” he asked, walking closer. “See? There she is.”

“Oh, she’s got big tears and everything,” I said, frowning at her face.

“Seems like she scratched herself in her sleep,” he said, turning her so I could see a nasty scratch down her cheek. “Gonna go dig around for the nail clippers. You good, or you need a hand?”

“I’m okay,” I said, even if a bigger part of me selfishly wanted him to help me, to dry me off, to carry me back into the room.

“Okay. Gonna order you some soup.”

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