“Did you have a good night?” He takes in my appearance. A black spaghetti-strap romper and wedge sandals, my hair is curled and I’m in full makeup. “Did you get all your ‘stuff’ done?”
Oh yeah. The stuff.
“Yes. Very productive evening.” I clear my throat and try not to sway. I’m not really drunk, more intoxicated by Cole’s presence. I wait for him to bust me on my little white lie. Make me feel silly for showing up here after I ditched him earlier. But he doesn’t. Instead, he pins me with his gorgeous blue eyes, and my heart starts beating a mile a minute.
“Here’s the thing, Brooke. I like you.”
I can’t quite get a read on his expression. It’s not exactly inviting, but not quite hostile. A little intimidating and a lot sexy alpha male confidence. While he’s exuding confidence that somehow knew I’d be back, my legs feel weak and shaky.
All he said was that he liked me, but the way his blue eyes are staring at me so intensely, it sends a wave of heat up my neck and across my cheeks. There’s really no point in mentioning what his stare is doing to my lady parts, that’s always a given. Wet and needy. That’s the state I am constantly in around Cole, and right now is no exception.
“I like you, but I don’t like playing games.” His gaze lowers to my romper, then the expanse of bare leg I’m currently sporting.
“Games?” I question.
His eyes flick back up to mine.
“I don’t like when you run. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. That can be on your terms.” He continues, “But there are things I want from you. I want to take you on dates, hold your hand, and watch movies on the couch with you.”
He looks so earnest that my heart cracks open a little bit. Cole’s hand moves from the door frame to my shoulder. When his thumb slides the thin strap of my romper over my shoulder until it falls loosely down my arm, my whole body starts to vibrate. Just his thumb grazing my skin makes my entire body light up.
“I also want you in my bed every night.”
His fingers gently drag over my exposed collarbone, downward toward my chest. I wonder if he can feel my heart racing. I think I might be having a heart attack. I know his specialty is vaginas but I hope he can at least administer CPR before the ambulance arrives.
I’d wonder if I was still breathing, but it’s actually the loudest sound in the hallway, so I know it’s still happening. My thoughts are scattered, my sole focus on where he is touching me. Where he’s drawing me in.
“We don’t have to label it if that’s what you want.” Cole’s thumb slides over my nipple, the fabric of my romper still between us, covering me, yet I feel completely exposed. “But that’s what I need right now.”
I focus on the words ‘right now’ because all the other words he is saying are so foreign to me. Right now means in this moment, for the time being, temporary. That’s something I’m familiar with. I can do that.
I exhale a slow, shaky breath.
“Okay.”
As soon as the word leaves my lips, Cole’s arms are around my ass, lifting my legs until they wrap around his waist. He backs us into his condo, then kicks the door shut. There are no more words after that.
30
Brooke
Iwould have to say that even though I was originally against the whole dates and hand-holding stuff, now that I’m getting off on a regular basis, I feel more human and less like a walking hormonal bitch. So, it’s a win-win.
It’s only been two weeks since our date, yet we’ve managed to fall into a steady routine. Either Cole cooks or I pick us up takeout on my way to his place, we have sex, reheat the food and eat while watching a show, have sex again then read before lights out. It’s a nice routine. I’m like a squirrel collecting nuts before winter, except in my case I’m racking up orgasms before a dry spell.
Ellie had her egg retrieval procedure this week. Josh went with her for that and I have to admit I was glad to not make an appearance at the clinic. I don’t have any more appointments until the bloodwork before the actual embryo implantation procedure in two weeks. I don’t really get the process, it’s a lot of timing and hormones and science that I just don’t understand. I’ve decided to not worry about it and just do what they tell me to. And, until then, I’m going to live my life.
Which currently involves sitting in Cole’s bed together reading. Well, Cole’s reading and I’m watching him read. The romantic suspense novel I’m attempting to read isn’t holding my attention as well as Cole is. He’s very distracting. The way his brow furrows when he’s concentrating, and of course there’s the fact that he’s shirtless.
I pull the covers back and move to straddle him. “What part are you on?”
The book is a mystery by an author we’ve discovered we both like. I’ve already read it, so I gave it to him. He sets the open book down on the bed to mark his spot. He smiles, his blue eyes focusing on me.
“Mmm. The good part.”
Cole runs his hands up my thighs. I’m wearing one of his t-shirts and conveniently no underwear. Because what’s the point? I’ve started putting the spermicidal film in right after dinner to decrease wait time. I really can be a planner when I want to.
Cole’s grin turns devilish when my shirt reaches the tops of my thighs and he exposes me.
