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Cole, Page 8

Tijan


  The usual seating?”

  He nodded. “That’d be great.”

  The back corner booth was big enough to seat six comfortably. Cole waited until I slid in and then sat beside me. The hostess handed us two menus before heading back to the front. A server came over right away, pitcher of water in hand, to fill our glasses. He disappeared, only to return with a bottle of wine. Two more glasses were soon filled with wine, and the bottle sat beside the table in an ice bucket.

  Cole handed me one of the menus. “Did you want wine? Or would you like something else?”

  I cracked a grin. “Uh, wine will go right to my head. Maybe coffee? Is that an option?”

  The corner of his lip twitched. He stopped a server walking by. “Could we get a pitcher of coffee as well?” He asked me, “Cream and sugar?”

  I hadn’t thought my cheeks could get any redder. I was wrong. “I’m sorry. I was joking.” I glanced from the server to Cole. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

  The server left, and Cole shifted to face me. “Are you nervous?”

  I laughed. “Have you ever been around yourself? You’re a bit much.”

  “I am?” His eyebrow lifted.

  “Your whole presence. You’re just…I’m not used to people like you.”

  “Dorian mentioned you have a friend? Sia?”

  Of course he’d know about Sia. “Sia Clarke.”

  “That name sounds familiar.”

  “She’s the event coordinator at the Gala down the street. Do you know her?”

  “No. Dorian mentioned she had a ‘forceful presence.’” Cole’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “I imagine she propositioned him or something like that?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. She can certainly be direct.”

  “See?” His hand touched mine. It was a soft and gentle tap. “I can’t be the only one.”

  “But you’re the only one I want to—” I caught myself and closed my eyes, horrified. I was going to say I wanted to sleep with him. My hormones had been asleep for a year, but Cole woke them up. They screamed for attention. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  “Nothing?” The half-grin he’d been giving me stretched to the other side. He knew damn well what I’d been about to say.

  I groaned. “I’m already embarrassed.” I waved between us. We weren’t touching, but we were side by side. “This is a lot for me.” Water. I needed to quench my throat. I scooted around the corner of the table so we weren’t right next to each other anymore.

  Cole moved into the space I left and sat back.

  God, those eyes. They never left my face, and the longer they watched me, the more I felt I was losing some sort of battle. Over my will power. Or his intentions for after dinner. Whatever battle it was, I knew there was little chance I could withstand it.

  We didn’t talk. Minutes passed, and still we gazed at each other. The pull between us was crazy, and the longer I held his gaze, the faster my heart beat. I reached for my napkin blindly and pulled it into my lap. My hand fisted it into a ball, and I held onto it so I wouldn’t do anything else. I had no idea what, but it was useless.

  I was going to sleep with him.

  The understanding spread through me.

  “Would you like to leave?” His eyes darkened in stark hunger, and he leaned forward. He saw my reaction.

  Okay. There it was. We were going to talk about it. “And do it in the car?”

  “I was hoping for your place.”

  A dry laugh ripped from me. “I don’t do this.”

  His eyebrow moved up again. “Seems like you’re going to.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” I gestured between us. “You and me. I am not used to this sort of thing.”

  “One-night stands or casual sex?”

  A second laugh bubbled up. “You’re already labeling it that way?”

  “Well…” He looked around, but no one was near. His hand lifted.

  I didn’t look. I didn’t know what he was gesturing for, and I didn’t care. He was right. We were two minutes from walking right back outside, and I wasn’t going to regret it. I couldn’t. This power, whatever he had over me, it was making me do things I never thought I would. But after this past year—I didn’t care anymore. The pain. The sadness. The loneliness. I wanted it wiped out, even for just one night. One goddamn night.

  “We’ve just met,” he continued, his voice dropping low. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

  “You know where I live. Do you live there, too?”

  His eyes grew hooded. “There are things about my life I can’t share. I’d like to, but I’m in a position where I can’t. Not until I trust you.”

  “You can’t tell me where you live?”

  “No.”

  “You’re unbelievable. You want to have sex with me, but you won’t tell me where you live?”

  “I’m close to Dorian.” His hand rested on the table between us. It curled into a fist, and his jaw clenched. “That’s all I can tell you right now. But I want to tell you more.” He leaned forward. His hand stayed there, still balled up. “I really do want to.”

  “You have a job you can’t tell me about. You live somewhere you can’t tell me about, but you can tell me you’re friends with my building manager? What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “I was hoping you’d give me time. I can tell you; I just can’t do it now.”

  A month ago I would’ve laughed in his face. Hell, two weeks ago I would’ve laughed in his face, but this wasn’t two weeks ago. I had endured an entire week of wanting to see him, be around him, but I had been too scared. Tonight was different. Sia had stood me up. I couldn’t blame her. She had a life. She was out there. She was living, and I hadn’t been. I’d been holed up in my house, and now I was holed up on my floor. I’d been healing—or was it hiding? Thirteen months, and one meeting with this man set my world ablaze.

  I was smart. I was educated. One-night stands weren’t me, but looking back at him, I was quickly losing my capacity for rational thinking. My body had made up its own mind.

  Thump.

  I couldn’t believe this.

  Thump.

  My pulse pounded in my eardrum.

  Thump.

  He was waiting for my response.

  I sighed, then nodded. “Okay.”

  Cole got up to check on the restaurant for his friend, and when he came back, we left. We didn’t touch on the way out. We didn’t need to.

  I was already imagining him over me, sliding inside, thrusting and pulling back, only to go deep once more, stretching me. The ache between my legs wasn’t going to go away.

  The drive was the same. I didn’t see the scenery. I could only concentrate on his hand. He positioned it on his leg, half turned up. Maybe it was there for me to hold if I chose. A part of me was glad he didn’t put his hand on my leg. The other part of me wanted nothing more. And when my mind continued its play-by-play of what would happen once we got to my place, it got to be too much. So I tried to change my thoughts.

  Sia.

  That picture of her and Jake at the hockey game flashed in my head. My body cooled, just a tiny bit. But then Cole reached for the stick shift to change gears, and I went right back to fixating on that hand—what it would feel like, where it would touch me, how his fingers would be inside of me.

  I was wet, beyond the point of embarrassment.

  “You okay?” Cole’s voice was soft.

  I looked up and nodded, seeing his desire. “I am.”

  He held my gaze for another second before turning back to the road. I was reassured. Any tiny doubt that might’ve tried to tunnel its way into me was stopped in its tracks. I was ready.

  Instead of parking in front of my building, Cole turned to the side street and pulled into the parking lot. Really? I smiled. Yes, he could say again that he knew the code and the parking lot because of Dorian, but I suspected it was more. Too knowledgeable. Then he wheeled into the building manager’s slot. It was labeled
on the pavement. I didn’t know what Cole did, but he was someone.

  He got out of the car, and I didn’t wait for him to open my door. I climbed out, and we walked beside each other to the elevator. The closer we got to my place, the more my blood pumped through me.

  Once inside the elevator, I stood to one side, watching him. He returned my gaze.

  We still did not touch.

  My chest tightened, hoping no one would call the elevator at that moment. We sailed past the lobby, the second floor, and stopped at mine. I put in the code, and the doors opened to my home.

  I drew in a breath, filling my lungs again. God, it was time.

  Stepping out with shaky knees, I bypassed the light switch. The full moon lit up my entire floor. I went to the kitchen and paused at the island. “Did you want something to drink?” I caught sight of the tequila and wine on the counter. There was more than enough.

  Cole stepped up behind me and followed my gaze. “Were you going to have a party?” he asked, his breath coating the back of my neck.

  I shivered, closing my eyes for one delicious moment. “I stocked up. I thought a friend was coming over tonight.”

  His hand rested on my back, nudging my sweater aside to touch my skin. “He?”

  “She. Sia.” I looked over my shoulder. He was so close. “She stood me up for a date.”

  A faint smile showed. “I need to send her a thank-you card.”

  “Please don’t sign it.”

  “Why not?”

  I turned around, easing my back against the island. Cole placed his hands on either side of me, trapping me in place.

  “Because she’s slightly obsessed with you, though she’s in love with someone else now. She could circle back,” I joked.

  “Me?”

  “We saw you one night.”

  “When?” He leaned away, but his hands remained on the counter. It was like he was giving me breathing space on purpose.

  “At Gianni’s. We went there the night I moved in.”

  He didn’t move, but I could feel him pulling away. A protest started in my head, but I bit back the words. He didn’t reply. He was waiting for me instead.

  I continued, “You came in with a bunch of men and went upstairs. That was it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Did you talk to anyone?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The staff?”

  “About you?”

  “About anything.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “Sia networked with the hostess. They exchanged cards. Sia said the girl was a model. She recognized her from the Gala. That was it. Oh, well, another server sat with us for a drink later on. But they mostly talked with Sia about the Gala and about photographers—stuff like that.”

  He relaxed, his hands loosening their hold on the counter. I was scared to ask what he was so worried they’d told us.

  “I don’t know who you are.” I lifted a hand, placing it on his chest. His heart was racing, just like mine. My mouth parted in surprise. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He glanced down at my hand and held still. He was thinking something over. I held my tongue, worried it was me, that he was second-guessing this night for us. I wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about, but it sounded ridiculous. I really had no idea. So I waited it out, my heart pressing against my rib cage.

  When he looked back up, the hunger was in his eyes again—dark, primal, and more evident than ever. He took my hand and leaned in, closing the distance between us. With his other hand, he cupped the side of my face. “I wasn’t second-guessing this. I want you to know that.” His touch was tender.

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “Something else, but it wasn’t you.”

  “This is one of those moments where you wish you could tell me, but you can’t? Not yet?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. His eyes moved from mine to my lips. “Something like that, yes.”

  “Mmmm-hmmm,” I started to tease, but then his head dipped down, and his lips were on mine.

  I gasped. The pleasure was immediate. His mouth was gentle, but as he felt my body’s reaction, he applied pressure. His touch grew more demanding, then I was kissing him back. I wanted more. Someone groaned. That was me.

  His hand slid around to the back of my neck. He held me in his grip as his mouth explored mine, opening over me and slipping inside. My hands grasped his shoulders, just holding on. All I could focus on was his tongue. I met his with mine and reveled in the sensation. But it wasn’t enough. Need shot through my whole body.

  My hands slid under his shirt and moved over his back and shoulders. His body was just as powerful as his presence. I felt the shift of his muscles. They trembled under my hands. The feeling was intoxicating. I had power over him, and I wanted more. I wanted to see how much power I actually had.

  Pulling back, I studied him.

  He was panting lightly. So was I.

  I could see him wondering what I was going to do, so I reached back to the counter and started to lift myself. His hands caught the backs of my thighs, and he lifted me the rest of the way. Now sitting on the edge of the island, my legs parted, and he was back between them. His mouth went right to mine.

  I couldn’t get over what I was doing. I didn’t care.

  I didn’t think I would care the next day, the day after, or however long this lasted. I had no clue. I only knew I had one night. One long night.

  Another groan left me. Cole began trailing kisses down my throat and between my breasts. He pushed my sweater off. It fell to the counter, and his hands went to my legs, resting above my knees. Still his lips lingered between my breasts. The dress was a barrier.

  I wanted it gone.

  I wanted his mouth on me. I wanted to kiss him back, and I began tugging on his shirt, pulling it from his jeans. He lifted his head, helping me for a moment and then bent back to my chest. My hands returned to his back. Instead of feeling, I gazed down. I couldn’t help it. I was captivated. I had felt those muscles rippling under my touch, but seeing them now, my breath was gone.

  He was perfect. There were no other words. He could’ve been a weapon himself, just his body.

  “Cole,” I murmured.

  He looked up and nodded, sliding his hands further up my legs. He waited, resting them on my waist beneath my dress. As he continued to hold my gaze, one of his hands moved lower and his finger slid inside my thong.

  My body jerked, exploding at his touch. I didn’t climax, but dear God, I almost did. I clamped around him as he buried his finger inside me.

  He pulled out, then leaned down. His lips found mine, and my legs wound around his waist. My arms clenched his back. His finger moved out, then back in. And again. Again. He kept going.

  I was helpless against his onslaught, and I didn’t want to stop him. I started trembling, but I didn’t want to come, not yet. I wanted to wait, to hold off—but he never stopped. In and out. Slide in, pull out, and back in again.

  “Cole.” My lips brushed over his.

  He kept going.

  “Cole, please.”

  “Please what?” His voice was just as hoarse as mine.

  I grabbed for his wrist, trying to pause his caresses. In response, he went even deeper. A second finger slipped in, and I could only gasp, my mouth hanging open as the pleasure went through me. Wave after wave coursed through me, coating me completely.

  I couldn’t—I didn’t know what I couldn’t. He kept going, and