The sun wasn’t really even up, but Kat was, and she had been for at least an hour. She lay stock-still in the dark, cool room, thinking about the discussion from the night before and listening to Cal’s breathing. He was sleeping hard, one tattooed forearm flung over his head as he softly snored. Kat shifted, and his other arm, the one that lay across her torso, pulled her a bit closer to him. He caressed her bare hip and made a little satisfied grunt as he squeezed her thigh.

“Darlin’, it’s too damn early to get up,” he rumbled, his accent smooth, deep, and dark, like a good bourbon.

Kat shivered. That voice practically made her clothes fall off, especially last night when they’d shared so much of themselves. Cal brushed his lips against her shoulder, the rough stubble on his jaw making her nipples tighten. His hand on her hip drifted to her belly. Kat held her breath, waiting for those masterful fingers to repeat the wonderful ministrations from earlier, but he stopped, and when she looked over, she found Cal’s blue eyes sparkling with mischief and a little grin to match. She exhaled and used her hand that wasn’t pinned under his furry chest to cover her face. He caught her wrist and pried her hand away from her face.

“I would ask why the cat has your tongue, but that’s pretty self-evident.”

That got a laugh out of her. “Good morning, Cal,” she whispered. With a shifting of their bodies, Kat found his long, lean body pressed against her with his hard cock poking her in the stomach. She stroked the hair on his chest and gave him a shy smile. He checked the time, and suddenly Kat thought the fact that he was completely naked except for the watch very amusing.

“My meeting isn’t for three hours.” Cal had moved down toward the end of the bed, but she was still very aware of all of him. “I wonder what we can do to occupy ourselves until it’s time to get ready.” He rubbed his lips across her hard nipples, humming, finally sucking a taut peak into his mouth. Cal circled her nipple with his tongue, still humming, and when he began to run a finger down the cleft of her ass, Kat wondered just how inappropriate it would be for her to push him over on his back, sink down onto his cock, and ride him until both of them were incoherent.

“I want to taste you, darlin’,” he whispered in her ear. 

How could she deny him? In a flash, Kat grabbed hold of the headboard. Cal’s hands immediately went back to her ass and hips, and he darted his tongue inside, teasing, making her moan and whimper with pleasure. She ground against him, looking down to find his eyes wide open, watching her. So she began to pluck and roll her nipples in time with her gyrations and the strokes of Cal’s tongue. He grunted and took one hand off her hips, and Kat realized he was trying to stroke himself. She wiggled her eyebrows and reached around to stroke him. His eyes rolled back in his head as she continued to manhandle him in time with his ministrations. Kat moaned, loudly, and hoped to God the walls were thicker in this place than they were in her apartment in Boston. Kat knew she was vocal, and with Cal doing that thing with his tongue, well, she wasn’t likely to be Miss Prim and Proper.

And then he smacked her ass—not hard, just one sharp slap—before rubbing the sting away. Holy! She never knew if she’d like that, but she certainly did.

“Kat, babe, I don’t know how this could get any better,” he panted.

Kat knew. She slid down him and wrapped her hand around his cock. She murmured, “Just watch,” and engulfed him to his root. Cal jerked, and she thought he was going to be through with one pump. He seemed to get hold of himself, thank goodness, and he returned to his earlier ministrations. But when he plunged at least two fingers—she wasn’t sure exactly how many—into her core while he did that thing with his thumb, she knew she wasn’t going to last long. In fact, she barely had a chance to warn him when her orgasm roared out of nowhere, her core tightening to the point of spasming, leaving her gasping for breath.

“Kat, on your back, now.”

She rolled and spread wide. Cal loomed over her, bracing on the headboard with one hand and digging in a box that she’d not noticed that night.

“Bare,” she ordered him.

Cal froze. “Bare?”

“Bare.” Kat grasped his cock and positioned herself under him, the tip barely penetrating. She moaned, just a small sound, and then Cal thrust. They were both on the edge, and neither of them needed too much to send them over, Cal going first with a roar, and Kat following two strokes later. She was reveling in Cal’s languid stroking and passionate kisses when she heard his now-familiar command: “Kat, eyes.” She opened her eyes when she felt him stroke the side of her face and found Cal grinning at her, his eyes bright. She ran her fingers over his lips and clenched one long, last time, which sent an unexpected shockwave of pleasure through her.

“Son of a ham sandwich,” she exclaimed, and Cal fell against her and convulsed with laughter. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his body shaking and tears of mirth flowing freely down his cheeks.

“Kathleen Fahey, my sentiments exactly.”