Echoes of Scotland Street (On Dublin Street 5)

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Although Cole said he wanted me to come with him when he visited Elodie in the hospital, I convinced him otherwise. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to support him or show Elodie I was thinking of her. It was because I didn’t feel it was my place yet. I barely knew Elodie, and her heart attack had dredged up so much for Cole. I thought it would be better for him to have some time alone with her.

He visited the hospital the next evening carrying a bouquet of flowers I’d chosen.

Seeing Elodie for himself, getting reassurance that she was going to be all right, took away the grim aspect that had crept into Cole, and as soon as he returned from the hospital to his flat where I was waiting for him, I felt the immediate uplifted change in him. Cole was back to himself again except more. He was even happier than before and I was giddy yet equally terrified that this was because I’d promised to try something serious with him.

I didn’t intend to let that fear control me, however, and I threw myself with a weird kind of trepidation wholly into this new stage of our relationship. It was in my nature to be openly affectionate with a partner, and so with some difficulty I let that part of me out.

I liked hugs and kisses and holding hands.

Thankfully Cole seemed to like all those things too and he went with the change in my behavior without saying a word.

On Wednesday during lunch break we’d locked ourselves in his room and gotten up to no good on his tattoo chair. I was still all hot and bothered a few hours later when he came out of the room with a customer and approached the desk to pay.

“That’s sixty pounds, please,” I said to the tall, lanky guy who had so many tattoos I was surprised they’d found space for a new one.

The guy grinned at me and handed me his card.

As I processed the payment Cole said, “I promised Hannah I’d watch Sophia tomorrow, but I want you at my place for dinner at eight p.m.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Was there a question in there?”

He smoldered. “Please will you join me for dinner, Shannon?”

Oh boy.

I nodded in acquiescence.

“Dude, she’s yours?” the customer asked Cole, who didn’t deign to answer. “Dude!” The guy nudged Cole in the elbow in a “you da man” kind of way.

Cole stared at him blankly.

His customer faltered, his cheekiness disappearing as he tried to shrug on some cool. “I mean, I’m just saying.” His eyes flicked to me and then back to Cole. “She’s hot,” he ended on a whisper.

Cole continued to stare at him blankly.

“Right . . . okay.” The guy took his card and receipt from me. “I’ll just . . .” He gave an awkward wave and scurried out of the studio.

I leaned my elbow on the counter, my chin resting on the heel of my palm. “You deliberately intimidated him.”

My boyfriend gave a lazy shrug before bending down to kiss me. “You’re not some chick I picked up at an American frat house,” he offered as an explanation to his rudeness. I was clearly dating a gentleman.

Pleased, I smiled.

“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”

“Tomorrow,” I promised.

*   *   *

In hindsight the urgent and sudden need I had to take back some of the control I felt I’d lost to Cole was borne from misunderstanding.

I’d gone shopping for something that I hoped would make Cole lose sense and thus perhaps give me back part of the control I felt I was missing.

“I had plans,” Cole said, following me down the hall toward his room. “But if you want to jump right into dessert, I’m good with that.”

It was eight o’clock and I definitely wanted to jump straight into dessert.

I turned around and faced him, drinking in the sight of him. I shivered with anticipation of what was to come. Cole was wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans. He was barefoot. Effortlessly sexy. He just lived and breathed sexiness.

I, however, had to try a little harder.

The tingling began between my legs as soon as I whipped off my shirt and threw it across the room.

Cole’s eyes grew hooded at the sight of me in the emerald green silk and lace bra I’d bought just for the occasion.

I grinned wickedly. “There’s more.”

“Do go on,” he said, voice thick.

Slowly I kicked off my heels and then I unzipped my pencil skirt. I shimmied out of it, revealing the matching silk and lace knickers that were cut high across my butt cheeks. The icing on the cake was something I rarely wore.

Black suspenders and stockings.

Cole’s lips parted as I stepped out of my skirt and leisurely turned, my hair skimming my lower back just above the black dragon tattoo. I arched my back so my bottom stuck out in blatant invitation. Glancing over my shoulder, I noted his cock straining against his zipper. I smiled. “Do you like?”

His chest rose and fell quickly. “Do I like?” he said, his voice rough.

I turned back to face him and caressed my breasts. “I got it especially for you.”

In answer, Cole tugged his T-shirt off, his muscles rippling with the force of the moment. I gave myself an inward high five in triumph.

“Turn and face the wall.” The hard, authoritative words caught me off guard.

“What?” I whispered, uncertain but at the same time turned on by the demand.

“Turn and face the wall.”

I did.

“Brace your hands on the wall and arch your back.”

My lower belly flipped, hard, and as I leaned over to do as he said, I felt the slickness of my arousal between my legs.