Page 103 of This Time Around
Thirty-Two
Rebecca
That night, Cooper held me and listened while I told him everything about Joseph, the problems we’d been having and that night.Once the sky when pitch black, clouds obscuring our ability to see the stars, he ushered me inside and sent me to bed.I figured something would happen.After all, there was a large box of condoms he’d added to the mix already covering my bed.Nerves raked my spine while I brushed my teeth, scrubbed my face, and slid into a satin nightgown I rarely wore.When I left the bathroom, he was standing next to the bed, dressed in only a pair of jeans, and every single square scrap of foil had disappeared.
He walked by me, pressed his lips to the top of my head without saying a word and helped himself to the bathroom.When he returned, he slid into the bed next to me, correctly assuming I wanted him there.
Then he held me close until I fell asleep.
That was three nights ago.Three days of working side by side with Cooper again, laughing and talking and cooking and kissing and touching and every night we went to bed, he pulled me to his side, pressed his lips to the top of my head, breathed deep, and...we slept.
I was tired of only sleeping next to him.
I was awake, sunlight barely beginning to rise in the morning, and I was still settled up next to Cooper.His arm was draped over my back and his hand rested on my ass.
My hand on his chest drifted across his thick, coarse hair.It tickled my palm and sent sparks of excitement through my arm and to better places.I pressed my lips to his chest, right over his heart, and unable to help myself, I slid it across his nipple.The tiny bud hardened beneath me and even though he was sleeping, I needed more.
I wanted him.I wanted to feel him move inside of me, lose all the control he always seemed to have when it came to me.He treasured me and treated me like porcelain and while I liked being taken care of, I wanted him to lose his damn mind when it came to me.
My hand on his chest drifted lower, down the thick ridge between his sculpted abs, to where his hair created a path to my destination.I ran my fingertip along that line and tilted my chin.
His eyes were slits, opened and facing my direction.
“Good morning.”
His lips curled at the ends.“You seem to have some wandering hands.”
I slid my hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs.Black or white.Always skin tight.It was all he wore to bed and he looked damn sexy wearing them, too.
I still imagined burning every pair he owned.
“I had hands on a mission,” I said and brushed over a patch of shaved hair right before I reached his base.
“Shit.”His hips arched and his eyes closed.I curled my hand around his thick length.He was beautiful.Handsome and strong and confident and patient and sometimes he seemed too damn good to be true, but I still hoped it was all real.
My knight in shining armor.My protector.My caretaker.
I desperately needed him to become my lover.
My hips rolled into him, needing friction.Touching him turned me on and my breath quickened.He shifted, his hands moving to shove down his underwear.He kicked off the covers and I never lost hold of him, but then he was there, completely exposed, making himself available.
Yes.
His hips lifted and he lunged for me.I squealed, losing purchase of him, but he was on top of me, pinning my hands next to my head on the bed, and his smirk was infectious.“Perhaps I have a mission of my own to complete first.”
I lost sight of his grin because his head dipped, and then his lips were on mine.There wasn’t time to think about anything besides the weight of his body pressed against mine, the grip of his hands on mine, the taste of him, the feel of his excitement rubbing against perfect spots of me.
He lit me up like a firework, and it only took moments until I was writhing beneath him, so ready, so hot, throbbing for him I was about ready to lose my mind.
“Let my hands go,” I gasped, pulling them fruitlessly from his grip.“I need my clothes off.”
His mouth was at my neck, lower, he pressed his lips to my breasts, sucked my nipple and bit it through the thin satin.Beautiful, delicious zings of pain shot straight to my sex and I rubbed myself against him.
“Please,” I begged, gasping for breath.
“Patience.I’ll get you there when I’m good and ready.”He sucked on my nipple again.And, oh heavens.That friction between his mouth, the scrape of my satin nightgown.Bright flashes of light blinded me while I tried to focus on him and his ministrations driving me mindless.
He pulled off and glared at me.Muscles popped on his shoulders and throat, that beautiful, corded throat called to me, to mark him and bite with some animalisticneedto have him.
