Cold As Puck: A Cold Love Series Novel

by Paige, Violet

  “Can’t leave any behind.”

  “Right.” I giggled, slurping the lime between my teeth.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful, Soph.”

  Our eyes locked over the flame on the table. “Don’t say things like that,” I whispered.

  “Why not? It’s true. You’ve always been gorgeous to me. Back then. Now. Always.”

  “Dangerous words,” I teased, but I knew my voice wasn’t flirtatious, it was husky and serious.

  “Why do you think they’re dangerous?” he asked.

  “Because I might believe you, Roman Sorrow.”

  His dark eyes danced. “Believe me.”

  * * *

  The parking lot behind the Golden Page was small. Wide enough to fit five cars, six at the most if someone willingly double-parked. We sat in his mom’s Buick, staring at the back of the bookstore. Staring at the staircase that led to my balcony.

  His arm reached around my shoulder. I felt the pad of his thumb nudge my neck with a quick graze of heat. My hair lifted and fell back in place, tickling my skin. Why did it feel as if we were in college and not eight years past that first kiss?

  “Dinner was fun, Soph. Like old times.” He thought so, too.

  I chewed on my lip. I didn’t drink enough margaritas to be drunk and stupid, but I’d had enough to want something I shouldn’t.

  I turned in the seat, letting the seatbelt slide from my chest and return to its position. My fingers wrapped around the door handle, but I faced Roman, my body never quite ready to put space between us.

  “Want to come up and see my apartment?” My voice was unusually squeaky. I was nervous and excited. My eyes held my intent. He saw it.

  “I’d love to.”

  We hopped out of the car simultaneously, and I dug in my purse for the keys. We climbed the metal stairs that shook when we stomped to the top. I let us inside. As I was about to close the door behind Roman, I thought I saw the orange glow of the end of a cigarette behind one of the cars parked below. It lingered, glowing and fading. I shook my head, and then it was gone. I shut the door and turned on the lamp on the counter. It was small and not too bright.

  “This is it,” I announced. “Home sweet home.”

  “It’s great.” His eyes traveled to the tin ceiling. “That’s a cool detail.” He pointed overhead.

  It was hard to believe he was here. Roman was in my home. His gorgeous body filling the space, breathing the same air, his voice filling my ears.

  “I’ve working on it a little at a time. I started downstairs, of course.”

  He nodded, taking a big stride toward me. I felt my spine stiffen. “Of course. You have to do a little at a time.”

  I walked backward carefully, knowing we were taking the only hallway in the flat. The one that led to my bedroom.

  “One step at a time,” I whispered. “To get it right, before I moved on.”

  “Mmhm.” His eyes were glued to my lips, and I licked them, not caring if he knew I was preparing for the way his lips were about to blister mine. “It’s hard to move on.” His voice was barely loud enough to hear. “Impossible to move on.”

  The bedroom door was cracked. The outfits that didn’t make the cut for our date were strewn on the bed and over the back of my chair. I pushed a black dress off the mattress and to the floor as Roman’s hands cupped either side of my face. There was a second of recognition that passed between us before our mouths collided and we fell back on the bed.

  It was an unleashing. A fury buried beneath my skin I didn’t know had been trapped and imprisoned. The depths had traveled to my veins and flowed through me. For four years, it had settled in my bones and wrapped my limbs. The sadness. The hurt. The pain. The hope that one day my skin would touch his again. That his mouth would claim me. That I’d come in his arms. That he’d whisper in my ear and our bodies would be slick with sweat. Humming with passion. Thirsting with lust. I didn’t know the unbridling was ready to surface until Roman kissed me.

  Our tongues thrashed together. It wasn’t a gentle or timid kiss. It was punishing and furious. Fiery and detonating. Years of love and heartbreak played out in that moment. I’d never forget how it felt as we tumbled on the bed.

  Roman’s hands caressed my calf, sliding my sandals off my feet before his open palm skidded along my knee, wrapping my thigh with a tight squeeze. I inhaled at how powerful and rough his hands were. His fingers grazed the backs of my legs, inching higher to my ass. Digging into my flesh. Pressing into my skin with memorable marks.

  Roman rolled me underneath him. I'd never thought I’d see him like this again, hovering over me with lust in his eyes. Yet I’d dreamed about it so many times.

  His mouth came down on mine, and he slipped his tongue in my mouth. He tasted like lime and tequila. So did I.

  My dress bunched around my hips. The denim felt heavy and obtrusive. Roman flicked the clasp between my breasts and began to unhook the fasteners until the fabric fell open on either side of me.

  I ran my hands through his shaggy hair, noticing how much longer it was feathering between my fingers. His mouth met the skin around my navel, and I sighed. One kiss. Two kisses. Another and then he was between my legs, pushing my knees wide and settling at my center.

  I could feel his breath through the silk of my panties. Ragged, needy breaths that warmed me. I whimpered as he peeled the silk from my body and replaced it with his mouth. He didn’t bother taking them all the way off my legs before his tongue pried between my velvet lips and ran circles around my clit.

  I yanked fistfuls of his hair in my hands. He maneuvered on top of me, lapping faster, sucking, nipping. The panties wiggled to my ankles, and he tossed them on the floor. His attention returned to my pussy as a thick finger slid inside me. I bucked, knowing this move. It replayed often in my fantasies. The one that made me come in five seconds flat. I wasn’t about to stop it now. Not this time. Not when the fantasy was reality.

  His mouth latched on my clit and he pumped more fingers in and out with each thrust until I was melting in his hands and coming in bursts of light and glitter. The tin ceiling over the bed shimmered as I reveled in the magic of the orgasm.

  “Feel good?” he asked.

  I nodded, watching in awe as he raised himself on his palms and crawled on top of me. I panted lightly, trying to catch my breath. Trying to gain my bearings. My knees quaked and my core flipped on repeat tremoring from the climax. They were only tiny spasms but enough to forewarn of what was still to come.

  Roman’s finger traced the silhouette of my bra, swirling playfully over the lace pattern. It didn’t matter that I was heated; the goosebumps still rose on my skin wherever he touched me. He helped slide the dress off my arms. Our eyes remained locked. It was slow motion. It was epic torture while we continued to undress each other.

  I stared at his chiseled chest. There were new scars I didn’t recognize. Indentations at his abs I did. His body was a work of art. A beautifully sculpted masterpiece that used to be mine. My palm rested over his heart. It was beating rapidly. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me to him. My fingertips trailed along his rib cage, and he flinched.

  “Broken, aren’t they?” I whispered.

  “Be gentle,” he teased.

  His lips covered my neck and throat. I leaned back, allowing his tongue to taste my collarbone and eventually flick my nipples with rapid precision. I murmured his name.

  Roman’s callused palms lifted my ass and flipped me on top of him, bringing me right over his cock. He held me there, giving us both a second to realize right where we were. A breath separated us. So did four years. But the thread that had always bound us was stronger than either of us realized. It didn’t seem we were capable of making any other decision but to float into each other’s orbit.

  His eyes beckoned me to slide closer. My knees planted on either side of his hips as if he had telepathically given me instructions. He rubbed his shaft gently between my folds, coating it in a layer
of my honey. Honey he had beckoned from me with his tongue only minutes ago. I stared at him. God, he’d always had the most perfect cock. He fisted it and began to move rhythmically. Back and forth. A figure eight. Thick. Pulsing. Giant. I hissed, fully aware that within seconds he would be inside me and I would be lost to him. Again.

  My nails dug into his shoulders. Broad. Wide. Massive shoulders that I used to cry on. His teeth gnashed as he pushed inside me. Slowly. Deliberately. Intentionally searing his wide cock against my walls with intense friction. Neither of us wanted to rush this moment.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned.

  His eyes closed lazily as he brought me down again, easing each of us back into the fullness of what we shared. How our bodies begged to be connected. After a few thrusts in this position, I felt his hand coast up my back. He tilted my chin so he could kiss me. My body already burned on the inside from him, but he laid me on my back and with a powerful plunge sank deep in my pussy, not missing a beat.

  “Shit, Soph,” he growled, hiking my knee to his shoulder. “You’re so beautiful. It feels so fucking good inside you.”

  The world spun and the bed shattered. I heard cracking and splintering, but I didn’t tell him to stop. I wanted him to burn a new memory in my album. Something to replace the old stories that had begun to fade. I didn’t want to forget how my breasts fit in his hands. How his cock filled me with sweet, beautiful pressure. How his fingers did wicked things to my backside, and how his tongue worshiped my skin. He owed me this memory, damn it.

  “I could come like this,” he groaned. The truthfulness burning behind a dark gaze. He was raw and open in a way that surprised me. He was laying his intentions bare. Vulnerable. The curtain was down, but I didn’t know how.

  “You can’t.” I breathed through my teeth. He had found a way to change the angle without moving me on the bed, and I was distracted by how quickly another orgasm was about to spiral through me. “C-can’t,” I warned. I hadn’t been on birth control in over a year, and I hadn’t bought condoms in at least that long. The dating pool in Penny Hill had dried up a long time ago.

  “But you can.” He nipped at my throat, his deep voice reverberating with sexy hunger.

  His words and the contact from his teeth were all I needed for the release to spring forward. I practically ricocheted off the bed, unable to control the power it produced. He pumped harder and faster until I saw the sweat trickle from his neck and roll down his sternum.

  I gasped at the emotion prickling against my lungs. Roman leaned on his forearms. Our chests pressed together, slick and thumping from our untamed pulses. I spiraled. Rushing. Falling. Spinning. Caught by his lips and eyes while the rest of my body vibrated with pleasure. He grunted, sinking deeper, extending his hold on my heart. I tightened around his shaft and clung to his shoulders, needing him to feel I had a hold on him, too. He wasn’t the only one with skilled muscle control.

  “I-I can’t do this without fucking losing it, Soph.” He abruptly shifted.

  There was an immediate sense of loss as Roman pulled out and pressed his pulsating cock on my stomach. It was hot to the touch, like a spear forged in fire. Now it was wedged between our bodies as he released himself through clenched teeth.

  I sighed. My head thrown back. He kissed the side of my neck and behind my ear.

  “God, I missed you,” he groaned. “I missed this.”

  “Was it always like this?” I asked, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t want to move.

  “Usually we had condoms,” he joked, letting his forehead fall to my shoulder. He was heavy, but I loved the feel of his weight covering me.

  “Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting we’d hook up on our first date.”

  “Neither was I.”

  Part of me was relieved he hadn’t whipped out a stash of condoms. It meant tonight was spontaneous. He hadn’t planned to seduce me.

  “Oh, shit.” I saw the shocked look on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, following his stare.

  “We broke your bed.”

  “I thought I heard it, but then I thought I was going crazy.” I twisted under him to see that the headboard had cracked and one of the bedposts had separated from the joist and was sliding down the wall. “It’s vintage. I can fix it.”

  He chuckled. “Let me fix it for you.”

  I traced his jawline. “Does that mean you’re going to stick around and not run out of here?”

  He kissed the inside of my palm. It sent a shiver down my arm.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  God, I wanted to believe him. But as much as I wanted to lose myself in the man who had taken me to bed with enough passion to set the sheets on fire, I knew there was another man who lived inside him. The one who had broken me. The one who was more comfortable with ice.

  14

  Roman

  I surveyed the bed post while Sophie rinsed off in the shower and brushed her teeth. Luckily, the bed frame was separate from the headboard, so it was a cosmetic issue that I could fix with a few screws and maybe a couple of bolts to hold it together. We could still sleep on the bed for the night. The bathroom door opened, and she stepped into the room, a towel wrapped below her arms. Water droplets dotted her shoulders and collarbone. We had just had sex, but she already took my breath away again.

  “Come here.” I motioned her over.

  She stepped into my arms, and I pried the towel from her damp skin. She tried to cover her tits, but I pulled her hands away.

  “I need this view,” I growled.

  “Do you?” she teased.

  “I always have.”

  I saw how her shoulders lowered. Maybe I shouldn’t reference our past. Afterall, it was my fault. We weren’t together because of me, and we both knew it. Our downfall was my fucking mistake. I didn’t know if this was the first step to making amends, but it felt like it.

  Her fingers brushed over my shoulders, and our lips met. I could kiss her like this until sunrise. Warm, wet, naked. I growled, knowing the impact her body had on my dick. Sophie brought my animal side to the surface, beckoning primal instincts to play and tangle.

  “Do you need to call your mom?” she whispered.

  I laughed. “Wow. This does feel like college.”

  “You are driving her car, and it’s late,” she reminded me. “What if she’s worried? She probably just started getting used to you being home again.”

  “I guess you have a point. You’re okay if I take a second to call her?” My mom still didn’t like text messages. She claimed it was too impersonal coming from her son. But breaking this moment with Sophie didn’t feel right, either.

  “Of course. I’ll get us some drinks. Be right back.” She reached to fasten the towel at her breast. I frowned but started fishing through my discarded jeans for my phone. They had landed under the bed and were pinned under one of the broken slats. I yanked the denim out and found my phone. I stared at the screen. There was a missed call from Jerry. I didn’t have time for his bullshit. I made the quick call to my mom while Sophie was in the kitchen.

  I explained to her I’d make sure she was at work. Her friend Louisa had taken her home after work last night. She knew I had some kind of appointment to make. So far, she hadn’t pried it out of me. The only one who knew I was going to counseling was Sophie.

  I heard the ice in glasses and looked up. I grinned.

  “Ice water to work off the tequila.” She handed a glass to me.

  “Thanks.” I took a few gulps. “I checked out the headboard. I can put it back together for you tomorrow.”

  “It’s okay. I can take care of it.”

  “I insist. It wouldn’t have broken without me.”

  “That might be true.” She looked at me over the glass. “Maybe not.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  I didn’t snarl, but I wanted to. The idea that some other guy would have been in her bed instead of me pissed me off. But I had to remember…no birth control…no condoms. Sop
hie was single and available. She wasn’t sleeping with anyone. Only me. I pushed down the jealous asshole in me and grinned.

  “When did you decide to move up here?” I asked. I hadn't known she lived above the bookshop until tonight.

  She shifted on the bed. “I didn’t have a lot of options after I bought the building. It didn’t make any sense to rent a place when I had all this space. I couldn’t move back into my dad’s house. This area was plumbed. I just had to put up the walls and refinish the floors. Paint, of course.”

  “What was it before you made it your apartment?”

  “I think it was part of a law firm in the seventies. Before that, maybe an office. I’m not sure. But it was part of the building purchase, and I had to find a place to live.”

  A ripple of pain started in my side when I inhaled. “Because of me?”

  “You already know the story behind why I bought this building. You don’t want to go back there.”

  “No, I don’t.” I wasn’t willing to let the shadow grow and darken what we had just created. I crawled across the bed, taking the water from her hand. “Let’s not go back, Soph. Just forward.”

  I tugged until the towel was at her feet in a heap of cotton.

  “Tell me we can do that,” I pleaded, inhaling the sweetness of her skin, the smell of coconut enveloping us like a summer wind. Did she have any idea how she could heal me? Put me back together? Sort out the mess I’d made of my life? Remind me of when I was a better man? A worthy man?

  “It’s only one date,” she whispered. “Nothing has been sorted.”

  “Then sort it,” I growled, pushing her back on the bed and spreading her legs. I was hard and ready. I needed her. I needed to be inside her until she obliterated the past four years of my life.

  Her eyes searched mine. “I wish we could.”

  I covered her mouth with a hungry kiss. A kiss that should erase every fucked-up thing I’d ever done. My tongue caressed hers over and over until her legs wrapped around my waist and I sank inside her warm haven. It was primal. Powerful. I grunted, finding my way back home.