It was sah-weet.

And I was hoping it was sweet enough, it’d hide the fact that I took off my makeup and undid my hair.

Toby wanted me as he’d seen me earlier.

But I was Daphne’s daughter, and even if she had to use the oatmeal out of our kitchen, she took care of her skin and taught her girls to do the same.

If Toby fucked me silly, and I passed out, I couldn’t sleep in makeup.

No way.

But my hair looked better now. Modern-day Barbarella.

It rocked.

The kitchen was cleaned.

Brooks was down.

With the lights out downstairs, the inside of the house had that golden-red glow because Toby had set the outside lights to go off at eleven thirty and it wasn’t that late yet.

And Tobe had brought a bag and was right then in the bedroom either putting on pajamas (which would be a waste of time) or getting naked (which worked for me).

I needed to find another job.

Christmas was coming and my mom was dead and I always missed her during the holidays (or missed her more).

My son’s father was an asshole.

But life was awesome.

I was smiling when I made a move to leave the bathroom, and my eyes hit the bathroom accessories I had in there that we’d brought up from Tennessee.

I’d bought them on sale at Crate and Barrel.

White. Modern. Clean lines. Simple shapes.

But I didn’t care.

They worked and were no muss, no fuss. They could be cream. They could be black. They matched any towels.

They just . . . were.

I found this oddly fascinating and it was what was on my mind when I walked out to the door of the bathroom, opened it, shut out the light and saw Toby in my bed, bare-chested, comforter to his waist.

I got sidetracked by the chest (as any girl would be wont to do).

Though it was also hard to miss he looked good under my comforter, all that olive skin and dark hair. My bedclothes were something that also came up from Tennessee. The comforter was white with some gray bubbles in a design on it. And the sheets were white too.

It didn’t match Izzy’s bed, which was a miracle of curving and looping distressed iron.

But on its own, I liked it.

I stopped by the side of the bed and looked to Toby.

“I don’t care about bathroom accessories,” I announced.

His eyes, locked to my nightie, slid up to my face.

“Say what?”

“My bathroom accessories are white.”

He stared at me.

“They go with everything,” I went on.

He continued to stare at me.

“Same thing, kinda, with this comforter,” I told him, indicating the comforter with a movement of my hand. “I don’t care about home décor,” I declared. “It has to be functional, not ugly, and easy to mix and match.”

“How much do you give a shit that I don’t give a shit about any of this shit you’re saying to me right now?” Toby asked.

“If this works with us, I might be decorating our home, in this case, decorating it in a functional way,” I pointed out. “So you have to know.”

“Let me rephrase,” he said. “How much do you give a shit I don’t give a shit about any of this shit you’re saying to me right now standing by the bed in that fuckin’ amazing nightie, with your sex-bomb hair, when my dick is hard? But just to put your mind at ease so you’ll shut up and get in bed, I like to have space around me that’s nice so, when it comes down to that, I’ll be all over it and it’ll be functional, but it’ll also look cool.”

I had noticed his pad was pretty boss.

I thought about that a microsecond.

Then I thought about his dick being hard.

I looked that way.

“Babe, get in bed,” he commanded.

I looked to his face.

“I really think we have to have this home décor situation hammered out,” I teased.

He rolled, reached out a long arm, and I had to bite back crying out when he caught my wrist and yanked me into bed.

I landed on him, he rolled again so I was on my back and he was on me, and with barely a few moves we were tangled in each other and the comforter.

I looked into his ridiculously handsome face and shared, “You do know, with your modern-day caveman act of hauling me around, it’s so hot, we’re never gonna go slow.”

He grinned down at me. “You wet?”

“I was wet before I left the bathroom.”

His grin changed, his face changed, I felt both changes in my womb, and both got closer as his hands made moves, yanking the comforter out from in between.

“Let’s see,” he murmured.

Then he kissed me.

God, I loved his taste, the feel of his beard, the smell of him.

I slid my fingers into his hair.

And I loved his thick hair.

His hand found my thigh, skin to skin, which meant he had his target in reach.

He didn’t delay.

But his lips (and beard) slid to my neck as his fingers whispered over the damp gusset of my panties.

I sighed.

“You’re wet,” he murmured in my ear.

I bore down on his hand, turning my head.

He caught my mouth and hooked a finger in the gusset, tugging down.

He shifted to the side and I took my hands from his hair to help him pull down my panties.

I had to wheel my legs a little to get them off.

Toby pulled them free and they went flying.

Then I was on my back, he had angled his body away, yanking the rest of the comforter free. And when he succeeded in fully releasing me, his hands were at my hips, and he ended the kiss with his teeth sunk into my lower lip.

Fucking, fucking hot.

He slid my nightie up to my ribs.

Then one hand went down, the other slid up over my breast, my chest, neck. He released my lip and simultaneously hit my clit with a finger as he slid another finger in my mouth.

“Fuckin’ fuck,” he grunted as my eyes rolled back in my head, my hips rocked into his finger, and I sucked hard on the one in my mouth.

Half-mast, I gazed at him as I drew deep and rode the circles he was pressing into my clit, but mostly rode the sensations he was creating by pressing them there.

He pressed harder and I moaned.

His fingers slid away.

“Don’t stop,” I begged.

“Too late. Too hot,” he rumbled, gliding down my body.

A second later, one of my legs was tossed over his shoulder. He ran his hand up the back of my other thigh and cocked it high. He then dipped his head, and Toby and his beard were going down on me.

Oh, hell yes.

I arched into him, whimpering, “Toby.”

He dug in, sucking hard, dropping a smidge and then tongue fucking me.

Oh, hell yes.

Nice.

Both hands in his hair, again came my breathy, “Toby.”

On my back, I was riding his mouth, and he was driving me wild.

Too wild.

I fisted my fingers in his hair and warned, “Toby.”

He came up over me, rolled off, flipped me to my belly, hauled me up to my hands and knees and positioned in front of me, hands on either side of my head tipping it back.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

This caveman shit rocked.

He took one hand away to grab his cock, and I lifted my gaze up to him as I felt the head touch my lips.

They parted for him.