Nicknames

Chapter 4 ~ Move out/in

Luna🌙

I wake up wrapped in the warmest blanket I've ever been in. My body begs me not to get up and I'm tempted to let it stay in bed until I remember that this isn't my bed or my house and I should really get out of here.

The second I sit up the room spins and the urge to throw up hits me and quickly disappears. My mouth tastes bitter and my head feels like an anvil is sitting on top of it. Maybe I'll leave after a cup of coffee. I really hope he has a good coffee.

Climbing out of the bed, I notice the clothes and toothbrush sitting on the corner and mentally thank the behemoth who is nowhere to be found. I slip on the long sleeve shirt and boxer briefs then go to the bathroom to get this terrible taste out of my mouth. Once I'm finished with everything, I head downstairs where I find the green giant making pancakes.

I must be dreaming or hallucinating, because this feels like a fantasy. A gorgeous, half naked man, making delicious smelling breakfast. My temptation to see if he is real wins out as I walk up behind him and drag my fingers over his very defined back muscles. He tenses underneath my touch before turning around to me and relaxing as he looks into my eyes.

"Good morning, Little Bunny, did you sleep well?" He asks, bringing his hand up to my cheek and pushing my hair behind my ear.

His gentleness is a juxtaposition that I really, really like on him.

I tell him that his bed was the best sleep I've had in a long time. He just chuckles and points me to the french press in the corner, informing me that breakfast will be ready soon and the coffee will help me with my hangover. He definitely does not need to tell me twice. I pour a cup and add sugar. then I take a sip of amazing coffee.

A soft moan leaves my lips at the wonderful taste and feel of coffee and caffeine traveling down my throat. When I look up the behemoth is watching me with two plates in his hand. Eventually he snaps out of whatever he was in and walks over to me, placing the two plates in front of me. One for me and one for him.

"Eat up."

I do, cutting into my food and eating. Once again he doesn't disappoint. Maybe I am dreaming, things feel too good to be true. They usually are. But I'm going to enjoy my moment until it ends. And so it seems for the FBI guy as he stares at me and blindly puts food into his mouth. Then the questions come again. Probably the most important one of all.

"What is your name?"

"Luna Grayson. Yours?"

"Carter Bentley," he replies.

We probably should've started with this first. But nevertheless we are here so I ask my questions as well.

"Why were you at the bar, Carter?"

He asked me last night, I only saw it appropriate that I asked him as well. The "just clearing my head" answer was boring. I was hoping for some excitement like 'scoping out a mob boss' or 'meeting an informant who never showed up'. But I can understand the need for clearing the head, so I just nod and go back to eating my food.

I'm completely entrapped in the way his muscles move as he washes the dishes after we've both finished our food. Moving around the counter, I walk up next to him and hop up onto the counter next to the sink, picking up a cloth to start drying the dishes. Carter barely lets me get one done before he's cutting off the water and taking it out of my hand, his wet hands falling to my knees and spreading my legs apart. He steps in between them with his hands placed by my thighs.

There's a scar on his torso near his adonis belt and another on his shoulder. Out of curiosity, I reach for the one on his ab, hesitating when I see him visibly tense. When I look up he's watching me and a smug smirk rises to his lips.