I tuck my wet, softening dick into my sweatpants and look at the mess I made. Cum slides down the side of her bed, dripping down into the white carpet. I’ll need to clean that up.
I tug down Basia’s top and pull the covers up—I don’t want her getting cold. I can’t help feasting my eyes on her as her breathing slowly softens, deepens, and slows, before heading to the kitchen to get a sponge and some dish soap.
So risky.
So fucking weak.
7
BASIA
My alarm clock drags me out of dreams I wish I could stay in forever. But the longer I spend awake, with my usual thoughts and fears spinning in my head, the more embarrassed I feel for wishing my dream life were real.
In my dreams, Caleb didn’t pick me up from work or cook for me because he had to. He did it because he wanted to. There was no threat, no stalkers, no job. Just a married couple living their peaceful life.
My cheeks are on fire just from the thought. Poe purrs up a storm as I move, and I realize I didn’t even wake up when he sprawled over my legs for his post-breakfast nap.
“Basia?” Caleb calls from outside my bedroom. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
“Blasphemy.” I try to sound outraged, but my vocal cords haven’t realized I’m awake yet, and it comes out with a croak that makes Caleb chuckle.
When I swing my feet off the bed, I feel something damp on the heel of my sock.
“Ugh, Poe, did you throw up again? Never mind, I don’t wantto know,” I grumble, hopping clumsily to take my socks off and get through my morning routine.
I skid into the kitchen, still buttoning up my shirt, but get distracted by the plate on the counter.
“Oh, yum, avocado toast.”
I take a huge bite and lower my eyelids appreciatively. When I feel a tugging on my shirt, I stop chewing and open my eyes to see Caleb fixing my collar.
“There you go,” he says quietly. This close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes and the fine frown lines around them. He has tiny scars peppered across one cheek that make me think he got caught by some shrapnel while serving. “Basia?”
I struggle to swallow and smile nervously at him.
“Yep. I was just looking at your ridiculously dark, long, and thick eyelashes and feeling jealous,” I say cheekily.
The side of Caleb’s mouth twitches up into an almost shy-looking grin before he turns away and rubs the back of his neck. “We’re running a little late today.”
I clear my throat and look down at my toast. “Yeah, I think I need to set my alarm clock a little earlier. Usually, I wake up before it and get up once it rings, but today I slept in.”
“I’ll wrap your toast in napkins, and you can finish it in the car. Why don’t you put your shoes and coat on?” he suggests, still not looking at me.
“Sounds like a plan,” I murmur, putting my food down and looking around for my bag.
“On the coffee table,” Caleb says.
“Stop reading my mind,” I grumble when I spot my Marc Jacobs exactly where he said it is.
“I’m not,” he replies, already moving to the front door. “I just know you.”
“Well, I spend as much time with you as you spend with me. So how come I don’t know what you’re thinking all the time?”
He turns around to wink at me. “Military training, darling.”
I roll my eyes. “Ugh, no thanks. Way too lazy for bootcamp.”
“I could teach you a few things,” Caleb suggests as he checks the hallway before beckoning me over.
