42
Story
I don’t know what I’m doing, but it doesn’t feel wrong. It never did with Cooper.
He doesn’t run up the steps. Instead, he takes each one with purpose. My heart skips a beat when he reaches me, my eyes dipping closed as if we’re about to kiss.
Gah! I wish he’d kiss me again.
On the head.
The cheek.
My neck.
The lips. I’m not picky. I just want one more kiss to tide me over. But I know one more will never be enough. Not with him. He could kiss me day and night, and it would only make the craving stronger.
I open my eyes.
He says, “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“Sometimes life does that.”
“When you—oh, fuck it.” He cups my face, and his lips crash into mine.
Our mouths are together, the spark ignited into a flame. I grab the front of his shirt to bring him closer, pushing up on my toes as adrenaline surges through my body. His arms wrap around me, and I’m lifted, carried backward through the open door. Our lips locked as our tongues meet like old lovers.
The door is kicked closed, and he adjusts me in his arms, holding me by the ass. My legs go around him as I cling to his neck.
Caught in the cross path of the entry, the living room, and upstairs, he shifts. I can tell he’s unsure where to go, but my back hits the wall, and he says, “God, I’ve missed you.”
My lips are left tingling, but that’s when I see him, like I’m seeing him for the first time—that same look in his eyes when he came into the coffee shop needing Wi-Fi. I see it now. It was never about the connection to the outside world. He saw me, and I saw him, and after that, it was only ever about us.
I kiss him again because he makes me feel greedy. I kiss him again because I don’t need to forgive him. He was always forgiven. I kiss him because he didn’t choose the contract or Camille. He chose me, and when we couldn’t be together, he chose to be alone.
“You waited,” I say, it finally dawning on me. “You waited for me.” As his eyes search mine, I hug him so tight that he’ll never forget this feeling. Nothing can come between us, not unless we invite it. I will never let that happen again. “You didn’t know, but your heart and soul did.”
“I didn’t let anyone in because there was no room for them. Only you. Only ever you, babe.” His breath is warm against my neck, and when I look back, I see the truth. It’s always been there. I just wasn’t looking.
Now I see it so clearly in the emeralds of his eyes. I kiss him again, and he turns me around. “Where are we going?” he asks, repeating the same question he asked me in the car.
“Depends.”
“On?”
I kiss the corner of his mouth, struggling to keep from smothering him with kisses. “How fast or slow we’re taking this.” Please say fast . . .
Leaning back to catch my eyes, he asks, “Since when did we ever take things slow?”
“Upstairs. Now.” He dashes up the stairs as if I weigh nothing and stops on the landing, looking left and then right. I say, “Left.”
When he rushes over, I reach behind me and open the door, worry filling me as I wonder what he’ll think of my room. He kisses me again as he carries me inside, finding the bed quickly by the light of the small lamp. Setting me down, he comes with me. He slides between my legs, creating a delicious pressure between us.
If he’s not careful, I’m going to ravage this man. He’s all over me, and for a moment, I lie there and let him, soaking in the feel of my heart racing again, his lips leaving a wet trail and the air breezing over it, my body reacting to his.
“You okay?” he asks with his mouth pressed to my neck.
“I’m so good. So, so good.” I wrap my legs around him and urge him a little higher.
He’s good at catching the unsubtle hint and moves up until we’re face-to-face. Hovering over me, he chuckles. It’s the purest sound accompanied by the easiest smile. I had enjoyed the others since seeing him in the gallery, but this one is different. This one is for me and full of possibility.
Dipping down to kiss my lips, he softens his smile, but his eyes are just as bright. “We’re doing this, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we’re most definitely doing it.”
Chuckling, he says, “I meant, giving us a chance, but I’m the fucking luckiest guy if I get to make love to you.”
Our lips come together again, and we start moving, our limbs tangling as much as our tongues. I feel him everywhere and not there fast enough. I tug at his shirt while he tugs on mine. But somehow, I get twisted and stuck with it over my head. “A little help here.”