I slammed down, knowing he’d take it slow.
“Jesus. Fuck.” His head hit the back of the couch with a sharp inhale.
I smiled. Slow was not good. Slow would drive me mad, and I’d had enough crazy for one day.
I needed release. I needed lust and sweat and panting and mindless bliss, and I needed Cole out of his head, out of his mind.
Sweet lord, the stretch, the sweet sweet burn, the feral heat of those beautiful eyes, the rabid grip of his hands on my thighs. The rise and fall of that perfectly sculpted chest.
Neither of us stood a chance.
I leaned forward, close enough to taste his breath. “Say it,” I said, almost a beg, mostly a soft plea. I rolled my hips, just a little. “Tell me what I need to hear.”
Something akin to a growl rose in his throat.
I rolled my hips again, and his jaw clenched.
When he opened his mouth to speak, I silenced him with a kiss. “Say it, baby, please,” I begged.
He opened his mouth again, and I swallowed his words, brushing my battered tongue against his.
His fingers dug deeper into my skin. They’d leave marks. Maybe that was his intention. I couldn’t wait to see them in the mirror. “Say the words, Cole.”
Again, he tried to speak, but I silenced him, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth, rising and falling on his cock, feeling every inch of his hard heat.
A curse escaped his lips.
But finally, finally, a small grin.
Good.
“There’s my guy.”
He huffed. Slapped my ass. “I love you.”
“Yes, you do,” I whispered. “And I love you. But you’re too serious right now. I need your smile.”
He sucked a nipple between his teeth. Licked. Nibbled. Drove me mad.
“I’ll smile after you’ve come all over my dick.”
“Deal.”
His dimples popped, then disappeared, but the dark cloud hanging over us dissipated, and Cole took over, done with my teasing.
The man beneath me was hunger and heat, hard muscle and dirty words, tender touches and desperate thrusts.
He pumped into me, and I chased my release. When I came, my cries bounced off the walls. He grunted his release into my neck, holding me tightly, past the point of passion, our bodies close enough to fuse together.
Wrung dry, I collapsed, my head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing up and down my spine. My body hummed under his touch.
When our breathing slowed, he asked, “Is it bad that I couldn’t wait for your parents to leave?”
“Is it bad that I kicked them out?”
His chest bounced. “You didn’t.”
“I did. They’d planned on staying the week. Mom pretended she was heartbroken, but really, she just wants grandchildren, and as far as she’s concerned, you’re the perfect baby daddy.”
Cole stiffened under me, his warm hands leaving me cold. I sat back, searched his face. Cole looked right through me, lost in thought, and not a good one judging by the wrinkle between his brows.
I pressed a finger where his skin crinkled, rubbing a slow circle. “I didn’t mean to insinuate…” God, did I? Had I assumed we were heading that direction without cause? He was my one. But we’d only started our long distance love affair, and the beginning had been bumpy to say the least, and though he never talked about the accident, he had lost the unborn child he’d believed to be his, and sometimes I forgot to consider his grief.
I had no idea how to rebound from my slip. To erase the pain off his face. “I need a shower.”
Heart shriveling, naked and vulnerable, I headed toward the bathroom.
Three blissful days passed.
Mind-blowing sex. Deep conversations. Eating. More sex. The subject of children never came up. We never talked about the future, only the present, and select bits of the past, none of which included his time with Victoria.
On our last night together, we ventured out for dinner with the Rossis and their extended family. I made new friends. Cole caught up with old friends.
The day had come for Cole to leave. I woke to an empty bed, the ache in my chest already taking root. Music traveled down the hallway. I followed the tune, that invisible string tensing, drawing me closer to my destiny.
Cole wore a pair of running pants and nothing more. He stood at the coffee machine, tapping his fingers on the counter to the rhythm on the radio, a song I recognized but didn’t know.
He belonged in my kitchen. My bed. My home.
God, how I wanted to keep him there forever, crawl on hands and knees and beg him to stay.
He sang along, messing up the lyrics. I laughed, making him jump.
The smile that greeted me was a heady mix of boyish charm, pure adoration, and a warning—full body collision in three, two, one. Oh, sweet Jesus, his hug was covetous, his kiss an awakening.
“One for the road?” His voice oozed sex.
“Please. Yes.”
He fucked me on my kitchen counter, fast and furious, desperate and unrelenting.
We showered. We dressed. Cole packed his suitcase while I watched from my corner of the bed.
“You’re going back to work tomorrow?” He smoothed his hands over the folded clothes, then turned face me.
I nodded.
“Against doctor’s orders?”
“I can’t stay on top of my game if I’m lounging around my damn apartment all day.”
“I respect your drive, sunshine, but your health is more important than any job.” He raked a hand through his hair and looked around the room. “I think that’s everything.”
The ache was bone deep. I hated goodbyes. “Truth?”
His gaze sliced to mine. “Always.”
I picked at a thread on my bedspread. “I’d rather go to work than be here alone.”
His chest sagged. He slammed the suitcase shut. “Natalie.”
Shit. My lashes were wet.
“Look at me.”
I did.
“We’re gonna figure this out. I promise. There isn’t another option right
