Best I Ever Had

I giggle but quieter as my nerves start slipping in. I should tell him but wouldn’t that just ruin things? I want to be treated like he would naturally, make love to me like he means it instead of being careful and using kid gloves.

His fingers fold with mine while he keeps eye contact. “Hey,” he says, tilting his head down and kissing me gently. “What’s on your mind?”

Exhaling slowly, I whisper, “I was thinking this is going so fast—”

“Do you want to slow down?”

“No.” Heat spreads over my chest. “This feels right. How do you feel?”

“You’re asking a guy who’s lying above the hottest girl he’s ever seen if being between her legs feels right?” He chuckles. “Trust me, babe. You feel more than right.”

I try to relax. There’s no reason not to. I want this. I want him. “I want you.”

“I want you so badly.” He kisses me so deeply that I feel the passion all the way to my toes. A wave of his hips presses his hardness to the center at the top of my thighs. He wants me. He wants me as much as I want him.

Our bodies begin gyrating together, slowly at first and then a little harder, firmer, faster. Deeper. All the laughs we’ve shared are forgotten as we give in to the sensations we crave. His desire for me isn’t just felt in the physical. It’s more than skin deep. I can feel the connection, the bond we’re forming. But then I realize I’m hot for other reasons. “We should take off our coats.”

He looks down. “Damn.” Sliding off me, he gets to his feet. “I don’t know where my head’s at when I’m with you, but no wonder it was so hot in here.” Cooper strips his coat off and tosses it over the top of the chair. He doesn’t stop there, though.

Lord have mercy, it’s not just the coat that has me hot and bothered. Fanning myself, I remain lying on the bed and watch as he undresses—kicking his shoes off to the side, his sweater yanked over his head, and then he tugs the T-shirt off from the back of his neck. God, I love how he does that. Why is it so hot?

Six-pack abs of sculpted muscle to run my fingers down and biceps I can’t wait to see flexing on either side of my head are revealed without great fanfare, though they’re so glorious they deserve a ticker-tape parade.

But as Cooper stands there half-naked, taking the rest of his clothes off, I’m still lying here fully clothed and jacketed like an idiot. He’s the first man to ever give me an orgasm, then he did it again the next day. I scramble to the floor and kick off my sneakers, not sure why I was wasting so much time when I could be orgasming again.

I throw my coat at the door, watching it slide down and hit the floor while tugging off my Atterton sweatshirt. Cooper’s jeans and socks hit the floor by the desk, and he dives back onto my bed.

Rolling over, he wears a smug grin across his face as his hands go behind his head, and he says, “Did I tell you how sexy you are?”

I flirt by wiggling the hips he can’t seem to keep his hands off. “Once or twice, but feel free—”

“You’re so incredibly sexy, Story.”

The snap of my jeans is heard as I stand there stunned by his certainty, his conviction, and how he so easily navigates between sweet, playful, and drop-dead sexy. I don’t know why my body reacts when his tone turns firm, and my breath struggles to clear my throat under the intensity of his gaze. His pupils widen, taking me in as I start tugging my jeans down.

But then I stop . . .

For one moment in time, I forgot my past and the scars I carry to this day.

And I have Cooper to thank for that.

But now I remember . . .

My hands slow, and then still.

I look at the man on the bed in front of me, and the fears I’ve carried for so long come rushing back.

What if he doesn’t want me?

What if I turn him off?

What if he sees the real me, the one I hide?

What if . . .?

“Story?”

I look back up at him from where I sit on the edge of the bed. I hadn’t realized how I’d curled down in shame right in front of him, letting my thoughts get away with me.

He cups my face, running his thumbs over my cheeks to dry my tears. “I don’t know who hurt you, but with me, you never have to be afraid.”

It’s a bold promise I’m not sure he can keep. But just hearing him say that, feeling his warm touch on my face, and seeing the empathy in his eyes, I stand back up before him and pull my jeans down to my ankles. As I step out of them, the light seems blinding on my legs, but I stay, not running to the bathroom like I want to.