Perfect Fling (Serendipity's Finest 2)

He let out a laugh that had people around them staring. “Because only an idiot would turn down what you’re offering.”

“Yeah?” she asked with what she figured had to be a goofy smile on her face.

“Yeah.” He brushed her hair off her cheek in a tender gesture that had her eyes burning all over again.

“Want to dance?” she asked.

He nodded.

A few minutes later, he’d settled up with Joe, and Erin found herself on the dance floor, surrounded by a crush of people, Cole’s hard body pressed deliciously against hers while a slow, old Air Supply song crooned from the jukebox. Cole held her tight, her curves molded against his harder muscular form. She lay her head on his shoulder and let herself pretend, just for a moment, that everything she was feeling was real.

Permanent.

That this tough man with his protective alpha ways could actually come to care for her just as she was beginning to care for him. And maybe he could, but she understood on a pragmatic level that caring didn’t mean he’d trust her to accept or live his kind of life—because he’d been ingrained with the belief that he wasn’t worth it.

The next hour passed in a blur of stares and cautious conversation from friends and acquaintances of Erin’s who were obviously surprised by the public display of affection between her and Cole. Erin played it cool—and real—introducing Cole with an easy, “You remember Cole Sanders, don’t you?” and letting them draw their own conclusions about them together based on the way they danced and the way she stayed by his side. She hoped to acclimate the people of Serendipity to Cole and vice versa. Everyone seemed polite, even with Cole acting as wary as she would have expected, leaving Erin satisfied with her night’s work.

“Okay, we played things your way. Now it’s my turn.” Cole’s low growl reverberated throughout her body, already primed from dancing so close to him. “Let’s go home.”

• • •

Cole was a man of few words to begin with, so when Erin walked into Joe’s, swung her arm around his neck and kissed him senseless, in front of Joe and all of Serendipity, she stunned him into silence.

And then she seduced him with her mouth and her words. She wanted to be in his bed? He had no problem taking her there. Not long after leaving Joe’s, they were back at Erin’s. He did a quick perimeter check and a sweep of the house before opening her car door, scooping her into his arms, and carrying her through the house and upstairs to her bedroom.

Cole lowered her to the bed. He stripped off his clothes until he was completely nude. It was easy enough to rid her of a skirt that was partially open anyway, before removing the rest of her outfit. Soon, he had her where he wanted her, in nothing but a flimsy pair of panties and a sexy bra with her lush cleavage spilling over the lace cups, staring up at him with pure desire in her hazel-green eyes.

As hard as it was to accept what the idea of the pregnancy meant, the future it tied him to whether he’d planned it or not, the changes in her body cemented him in reality. Right now, when he looked down at her, he didn’t feel panic but rather tenderness. He wasn’t experiencing dread but rather a pure bolt of desire.

He bent to ease one bra strap off her shoulder, but instead of reaching for the flimsy material, he found his hand covering her stomach, gently caressing the slight swell there now. Eyes wide, Erin watched him, wonder and awe in her gaze. He knew the feeling—was experiencing it himself—of knowing it was his baby inside her. And it made him want her even more.

He planned to go slow, to taste every last inch of her exposed skin, until she was a writhing mass of need.

“How much longer are you going to make me wait?” she asked in a husky voice. “I mean, I was happy to let you do your control thing, but if you’re not going to move, I suppose I should take over.” A wicked gleam lit her gaze and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to change places.

He flipped over and braced his hands behind his head. “Go for it.”

Erin grinned. She looked her fill of his gorgeous body, his olive skin appearing tan, a dark sprinkling of hair on his chest running down his abdomen to the thatch of hair between his thighs. His thick, pulsing erection called to her, and she couldn’t wait to touch.

So she did, wrapping her hand around his straining shaft and pumping her hand up and down until a drop of moisture pooled at the head. She licked her lips and moaned.

“Like what you see?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“I most certainly do.” She continued to slide her hand back and forth, as she lowered her mouth and took him inside, tasting his unique flavor—salt and musk, his erection so hot and smooth as it passed her lips and glided through her mouth.

She’d loved doing this to him before, had reveled in the power she possessed to bring this big, strong man to a mind-blowing orgasm. Her, Erin Marsden, the good girl. The one who never before loved sex the way she did with him. More imp

ortant, she’d never enjoyed giving to a man the way she did with him, like his gratification meant as much if not more than her own. Because giving him pleasure did the same for her.

She swirled her tongue over the sensitive head, down his shaft, then back up again. He thrust his hips, and she accepted all of him, would give whatever he needed or even demanded.

She was shocked when he reached down and lifted her off him, pulling her up his prone body.

“Hey! I was busy,” she said, teasing him.

He kissed her damp lips. “I am not coming unless I’m inside you.”

“You would have been.” She chuckled, a sound he cut off by sealing his lips over hers.