Page 48 of Perfect Guy

“Fuck…best surprise.” His voice is hoarse as he takes me in. His eyes linger on my thighs where my jean shorts stop.

An arm loops around my waist and pulls me flush to his body, lips crashing down on me in a bruising kiss. Desperation overflows between us as our lips meld and move together, tongues sweeping and tangling.

It’s not what I was expecting when I decided to come, but I’m not stopping this. The way I feel wrapped in his arms is something I’ll always enjoy. I feel safe and cared for, desired and needed.

Canaan’s arms move to my butt, lifting me. My legs wrap around his waist, and I moan when I feel his hardening erection pressed into me. Canaan groans, never moving his lips from mine, not even when he turns us and presses my back against the wall. It’s sexy.

“You taste so good…” he murmurs against my mouth. “I missed you.” He kisses me harder, his beard scratching my face with a combination of pain and pleasure that hits my core.

“I had to make it up to you after that joke.” I sigh when his lips move down to my neck. His teeth nip my skin, causing me to jolt and squeal.

“You are.” His words are muffled against my skin.

Goosebumps cover my entire body as his lips assault my sensitive flesh. One of his hands roams up my ribs to my breast, palming it and tweaking my nipple through my clothes. I arch my body into his touch, pressing my hips further into his. His length is rock hard against me, and I itch to wrap my hand around him. I moan at the thought, remembering how good he feels.

“You’re gorgeous…” He looks into my eyes. “Your face is flushed.” He moves his hand from my breast to my cheek, stroking it with gentle touches. “I think my beard has some blame.”

“I like that it does,” I confess.

Canaan squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. I giggle at his reaction, cupping his cheek.

“Look at me,” I whisper.

When he does, his mossy green eyes are blazing. My breath catches, words escaping me at the look reflecting back at me. Hunger and need roll through his eyes, and I’m the object of those feelings.

“Do you know how damn sexy you look in those jean shorts and boots? You’re a wet dream. So fucking hot.” His words surprise me.

“It’s my regular summer outfit,” I shrug.

“Well, your regular outfit has me feeling like this.” He rolls his hips against me as if punctuating his words with his hardness.

A soft moan escapes me. I grip his shoulder, feeling wetness coat my core. The way he makes me feel is overpowering. It consumes me. I’ve had partners in the past, and it’s been good. But Canaan…I can’t get enough of him. I now understand what I’ve read in novels about never being satiated. I feel that way with him.

It’s more than his body that I crave. I want time with him to talk and laugh. He makes me feel free. Being with Canaan is like riding down a country backroad in the summer with the windows down and country music blasting.

“I’m glad you like it,” I wink.

“Love it.” His voice is gruff.

He kisses my lips. Before he can pull back, I tangle my hands in his hair and keep him in place, exploring his lips with my own. My tongue finds his, and we dance to our beat. Canaan thrusts his hips into me, my belly flipping with need.

My body heats and spikes with desire. My nipples feel sensitive as they rub against his chest. My core is pulsing, begging for attention, and my heart slams. Using the wall at my back as support, I shift my body and rub my hips with his, feeling his hardness teasing my clit through my jeans. Damn hard fabric is limiting me, and I’m desperate to feel his body against mine.

I take his lower lip between my teeth and stare into his eyes. I’m sure he can see the fire burning in them.

“I need you,” is all I say.

We stare at each other for a beat, unspoken words passing between us before Canaan supports my back and moves me from the spot. I kiss down his neck as he walks us around his house and into his bedroom.

I land on his bed with a bounce and stare at the man I’m about to give my heart to.

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