Page 66 of Resting Beach Face
“Your couch is comfortable, but no, I should go.”
“Do you want to take my pickup?”
I blinked. “You’d let me do that?”
“You’re coming back tomorrow anyway, right?”
“Yes. My shift at the resort starts at eleven, so I’ll be here around six in the morning.”
“Then take it.” He went to a hook by the door and grabbed a keyring. It included keys to the B&B property. He didn’t bother to remove any of them. “I don’t want you walking home late at night.”
“That’s sweet, but Swallow Cove isn’t exactly dangerous.”
He gave me a flat look. “I didn’t say it was dangerous. I just think you need to get some rest.”
I grinned. “Like I said,sweet.”
He rolled his eyes and pushed me toward the door. “Okay, enough. Get going.”
“Do I get a kiss goodnight?”
He hesitated.
I tapped my cheek, and he blushed adorably as he leaned in and pressed his lips to my jaw. “Goodnight, Cash,” he murmured. “Don’t get used to it.”
I grinned. “Oh, I would never presume you were a Shore Thing, Daddy.”
He shoved me out the door and slammed it in my face, but I heard his laugh on the other side. I smiled to myself as I let myself out of the B&B and headed to the garage where he kept his aunt’s antique pickup.
I didn’t know what I was doing with Declan, where we were going, or how we’d even get there. But I resolved to enjoy the journey—wherever it might take us.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Declan
I woke earlythe next morning with a strange fluttering in my gut. Memories of the night before slowly surfaced as I blinked away the sleep fog.
Cash, working so hard for me that he was in pain. So earnest and dedicated to making this project happen.
Me, deciding to massage his shoulders and—admittedly—indulge in some platonic touching. Of course, it hadn’t stayed platonic, and ironically, that was all on me. Cash had told me to ignore his reaction, that nothing had to happen. But for once, I’dwanted…something.Maybe not everything Cash would have been up for, but I’d craved intimacy and closeness.
Which was a terrible fucking idea because I’d been down this road before—and I was leaving, anyway.
I shifted in the bed, and my morning wood brushed against the sheets, sending a rush of need through me. I was used to waking up hard. It was biology. But this morning, it was pulling at my focus more than usual.
I threw back the blankets and headed for the shower. I’d take care of this little problem quickly, then dress in some old, ratty clothes to meet Cash over at The Roost to work.
The fluttering started in my stomach again.
Stop it. You can’t have him. It would be a disaster and you know it.
With that uplifting thought, I turned on the shower and stripped off my silk pajamas. I climbed into the lukewarm water, too impatient to wait for it to heat fully, and started washing.
My stubborn dick remained hard, waving in front of me. With a sigh of annoyance, I squirted some body wash into my palm and started stroking.
I jerked off as much as any other man, but most of the time it was a means to give my body relief and move on. I started the same way, stroking my dick on autopilot while my mind fuzzed out and played a reel of abstract sexual images that didn’t mean much to me.
No faces, no real people, just…sensations. The act of sex was good in the moment. I just didn’t crave it often.
