Till Death

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  close to a girl.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “Did you?” he asked after a moment. “Did you forget?”

  My eyes fluttered shut. “No,” I admitted. “I never forgot.”

  The hand along the back of my neck clenched. “Does it make me an ass to admit I’m glad to hear that?”

  I grinned. “I don’t think so.”

  His head tilted slightly and he kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’m going to be up front with you. Okay?”

  Kissing me seemed really up front, I thought, but I nodded anyway.

  “I told you that the moment Derek said you were here, I didn’t think twice. I had to see you. Heading here, I honestly don’t remember what I was thinking.” He tipped his head in the other direction and kissed the other corner of my lip. “I didn’t want that side of your lip to get jealous.”

  I laughed, feeling a hundred pounds lighter.

  His lips curved into a grin. “When I got to the inn and I saw you . . . well, some things about my life suddenly made real fucking sense to me.”

  And that made absolutely no sense to me.

  Cole dragged his hand down the center of my back, causing me to shiver. He drew away and placed his hands on my hips again. Without warning, I was on my back and he was hovering above me, one hand by my waist, an elbow pressing into the cushion by my head.

  Stunned at his strength, my hands went to his chest. I didn’t push him away. “What . . . what made sense to you?” I asked.

  He lowered his head instead of answering, and his mouth moved over mine, coasting softly until he urged my lips open. His tongue touched mine, and the kiss deepened. It was different like this, with me on my back and him above me. He shifted his body down again, slowly, and only until I could feel a little of his weight, a little of him.

  I was kissing him back, and I wanted more. Fingers balling into his shirt, I tried to pull him down, but he resisted, controlling how much he was giving me. “Cole,” I whispered, feeling like I was on fire, burning from the inside in the most delicious way. It had been a long time since I felt this way. Too long.

  “We have ten years’ worth of stuff to talk about,” he said against my mouth. “There’s still a lot we need to say.”

  “I know.” I wanted him closer, so I curled my left leg around him. Biting down on my lip, I lifted my hips just the slightest, pressing into his. He made that sound again and dropped his head to my neck.

  Cole kissed me there, just below my pulse. “Still trying to take this slow, babe. That’s the smart thing to do.”

  I dragged my hands up to his shoulders, restless. “I . . . I can do this.”

  A moment passed and Cole lifted his head. Heated blue eyes met mine. Warmth invaded my cheeks. “I’ve had sex since . . . since then,” I told him. I’d been a virgin when the Groom came into my life. I hadn’t been afterward, and it took years with lots of therapy and failed dates for me to go there with my body and to trust another person in that way, but I had. “I’m not scared . . . of sex.”

  “Babe,” he murmured, kissing me softly. “I’m relieved to hear that you’ve moved on in that way, but I still don’t want to rush it.”

  “I appreciate that, but . . .”

  Those remarkable eyes were fixed on my mouth, and I liked that. A lot. Heat was pounding through my veins, and I wanted to rush things, because I knew there wasn’t always a next time. There wasn’t always a promise of tomorrow, and we were two adults who wanted what we wanted.

  Instead of speaking, I cupped his cheeks and drew his mouth back to mine. This time when I kissed him, I threw everything I wanted into the kiss, and I curled my leg around his once more, lifting my hips to his. Oh, he wanted this as badly as I did. Cole made that sound again, and things . . . well, they spiraled beautifully out of control.

  He glided his hand down my throat and over my shoulder, brushing the cardigan aside, and heady awareness followed. I gasped into his mouth as his palm coasted over the top of my breast. The material was so thin it was like there was nothing between our flesh. My nipple pebbled, and he groaned. Air hitched in my throat, and every cell in my body waited. He didn’t let me down.

  Cole slipped his hand under the cami, and I jerked. His fingers skimmed the side of my stomach, and my eyes flew open as a tiny bit of heat faded. He was near . . . a scar—a scar that had long since healed, but was still raised and rough, and weirdly sensitive. But he didn’t touch it. Oh no, those fingers found the tip of my aching breast as his kiss took on a different strength, becoming demanding. He caught my lower lip, and I let out a little breathless moan. Everything about him invaded me—the taste, his smell, the way he felt. The liquid fire burning in my core was too potent to ignore, and I shivered when he spoke in a deep, rumbling voice.

  “What do you want, Sasha?”

  Him. Everything. “Touch . . . touch me.”

  He moaned. “I can do that, baby. I can do that.”

  And he did.

  His hand left the tip of my breast, deftly slipping under the hem of my bottoms and the band of my panties. He lifted up slightly, supporting his weight on his left arm. His eyes were on fire. “Open your legs for me.”

  Doing as he asked, I held my breath as his fingers made their way over the mound between my legs. My heart was in my throat as he dipped his chin, watching his hand under my clothes. A finger skimmed, barely touching me, but my entire body jolted with sensation.

  “Damn,” he said as he gently explored, and I breathed like I’d just run the entire flight of stairs in the inn. “I want to see you, all of you, but we don’t have time for that.”

  “We don’t?” I whispered, hips twitching.

  “Oh no.” Thick lashes lifted as his thumb pressed against the little bundle of nerves, causing me to whimper. “You’re too ready to wait for all of that.”

  He then increased the pressure until my hips were moving, rocking against his hand. A fierce heat rose, building and building until I feared I’d combust right here on the couch. He ran a finger down into the gathering wetness. Tension coiled as I pressed into his hand and then his finger slipped inside.

  “Oh God.” My fingers tightened around his shirt, bunching the material. “Cole . . .”

  “Damn,” he grunted out again. “Love the way you say my name.”

  There was this rhythm he started, and it was perfect, and too much, and not enough all at the same time. My hips thrust up, meeting his hand as my body twisted with sharp spikes of pleasure. Another finger slipped in, and I cried out, a fine tremor coursing throughout me.

  I wanted to feel him, the hard planes of his chest and stomach, but all I could do was hold on to him as his name became a plea. The pounding tension inside me expanded as his fingers pumped. Groaning, Cole pressed his erection against the side of my hip and swirled his thumb in the right way, in the right place. The whirling force of the orgasm hit me hard, crashing over me. Crying out, I tensed as my back bowed. Spasms racked my body, seeming to go on forever.

  “That was beautiful,” he murmured against my mouth, easing his hand out of my bottoms.

  “I think that was supposed to be . . . my line.” My voice caught as a tight aftershock hit me. This wasn’t the first time I’d had an orgasm, but damn, it blew every one of them away.

  “Mmm.” He kissed me.

  My heart was starting to slow a little, but I wanted to give him what he gave me. I lowered my hand. My fingers brushed his belt when he reached down and gently grasped my wrist, lifting my hand back to his chest.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said, his eyes taking on a sexy, hooded quality.

  “But I want to.”

  He shuddered at my words. “Sasha.”

  “And what you did was just . . . it was amazing.” Those were the truest words I’d spoken. “I want to make you feel that way.”

  Cole shifted slightly. “Babe, watching you come on my fingers was enough for now. Hell.” His lips brushed mine once more. “I was really trying
to go slow here.”

  “I like our pacing.”

  “Yeah.” His hand coasted over my breast on the way up to my cheek. “Yeah, me too.”

  Something in my chest swelled, and it felt a lot like my heart. I was still breathing heavy, but my pulse was starting to slow down. I closed my eyes as I loosened my death grip on his shirt. “Do you . . . want to play tit for tat now?”

  He chuckled in the way that made me shiver. “I want to kiss you again. I want to peel those pants off you and get in between those thighs with more than my hand,” he said, voice low, and a fire swept through my veins as he spoke. “I remember kissing you. I remember holding you in my arms. I remember touching you that one time.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “You remember that?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered. How could I forget? It had been the first time I’d gone to his apartment he shared with another deputy. We’d hung out in his room, watched a movie, and one thing led to another. His hand had worked its way inside my pants and mine had done the same thing.

  It had been as amazing as tonight.

  “Never got to feel you like I want to though.” He tilted his head, and his nose glided over mine. “Never got to know how you taste. So, that’s what I really want to do.”

  I bit down on my lip to stop from moaning. At the moment, I liked the idea of him discovering all those things. Really liked the idea, and maybe slowing down was smart. Both of us obviously were feeling something, and going too fast, jumping back into this or into something we hadn’t shared in our past, could blow up in our faces.

  My fingers splayed across his chest. “But you’re not going to,” I said, opening my eyes. I looked up at him, and I took a deep breath, really let myself be right where I was, and where I was gave me one of the best views of a lifetime. His handsome face open and warm, within grasp. And I could touch him, because he was actually here and this wasn’t some fantasy I’d concocted over the years, so I touched him. I lifted a hand from his chest and ran the tips of my fingers over his cheek, memorizing the feel of the short, rough stubble. “So we should . . . talk more then.”

  A half smile appeared. “I don’t think tit for tat is going to cover it.”

  My heart fluttered when he turned his cheek and kissed my fingertips. That was new, something he hadn’t done in the past. “Probably not.”

  “But it’s late, and I do have to get up early to head into Baltimore.” Thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. “I’m not going to get back until late tomorrow, but do you think you can manage to do dinner Saturday night?”

  Doing dinner again when Angela was missing didn’t seem right, but if I’d learned anything from my past, it was that life doesn’t pause, no matter what terrible or even wonderful things are happening. Life keeps ticking on. So I nodded.

  “Perfect.” Dipping his head, he kissed me, and then he was sitting up between my legs. Catching my hands, he pulled me up into the sitting position. “You want me to cook or are you up to going out?”

  I was a little dazed, so it took me a few moments to gather my thoughts. My first response was to say he could cook, but that was also another way I’d be hiding. “We can go out. It’ll have to be later,” I said before I changed my mind. “After I help Mom with dinner service.”

  Cole smiled at me. “That works for me.”

  Straightening my sweater, I managed to get my feet on the floor. I stood, pressing my fingers to my still-tingling lips. I turned, discovering that he was watching me, still grinning. Flushing and feeling like I was almost a decade younger, I dropped my hand. “Is there anything I can get for you? A heavier blanket or . . .” Why was I making him sleep on this couch? It was a nice, comfy couch, but he was a long guy and the fact he’d slept on it last night was insane. Two nights in a row was unnecessary.

  “I’m fine, babe.”

  My mouth dried as I stared at him. “You can . . . sleep with me.”

  His brows flew up. “I—”

  “Not have sex with me. But sleep with me.” I ignored the burning flush that was racing down my throat. “The bed is big enough. You saw that last night.”

  “Yeah.” His voice did that dropping thing that caused my belly to do the same. “Yeah. I saw that.”

  My shoulders rose in a deep breath. “If you’re insistent upon staying here, there’s no reason you should sleep on the couch.”

  He shifted. “I can think of several good reasons why I shouldn’t get in that bed with you.”

  Air caught in my throat and that warmth turned heavier, spreading out across my chest. I tugged the ends of the cardigan together. “We’re both adults. We can sleep in the same bed and behave ourselves.”

  “You have a lot of faith in us.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “It’s not like we’re going to slip and fall on one another.”

  He smirked. “I do hate when that happens.”

  I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched. “Look, the option is there. I can handle it. If you discover that you have the willpower, the door will be unlocked.”

  Cole’s head cocked to the side, and I held his gaze for a few moments before I murmured goodnight and then all but dashed into the bathroom. He was still out in the living room when I closed my bedroom door.

  He wasn’t going to come in here.

  A weird mixture of disappointment and relief swirled inside me as I stripped off my sweater and climbed into bed. Stretching out, I started to turn off the nightstand lamp. My bedroom door opened and Cole came in. I froze.

  “This is probably a bad idea,” he said, walking to the other side of the bed. “Or maybe I’ll surprise myself.” His gaze flickered over to me. “You’re not wearing that nightie, so that’s a plus on the whole behaving-myself side.”

  I might’ve stopped breathing.

  Cole placed his gun on the other nightstand as he toed off his boots. “But you’re right. Sleeping on that couch sucks and this bed looks amazing.”

  “It is,” I murmured.

  “Mainly because you’re in it,” he added, reaching back to the nape of his neck with one hand. He pulled his shirt over his head and then off. He tossed it to the bench in front of the bed.

  And I really did stop breathing for a little bit then.

  It had been a long time since I’d seen him shirtless and even though I could feel all the gloriousness under his shirt, it was nothing like seeing it for real. His pecs were defined, as were his abs. He wasn’t overly muscular. He had the lean, cut body of a runner. He also had those indents on either side of his hips.

  His hands went to the button on his jeans. There was a noticeable bulge there. One I’d felt earlier. “You keep staring at me like that and every good intention I have is going to go out the damn window.”

  Cheeks flushing, I twisted onto my side, away from him, and squeezed my eyes shut. Pants hit the floor. A second later, the bed dipped and the covers shifted. Then he rolled, reaching over me. My eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

  “Turning off the light,” he answered, and did just that. The room plunged into darkness. He didn’t move away though. I could tell he was raised on one elbow. His hand found my blanket-covered hip. “Everything is locked up.”

  My heart was pounding. “Thank you.”

  “I might be gone before you get up.”

  “I . . . don’t know about that,” I said, turning my head to look over my shoulder. I could only make out an outline of his face. “I don’t sleep well.”

  The hand above my hip moved a little. “I know.”

  Obviously, he remembered the nightmare from last night. Even then, he knew better. “Maybe tonight will be different.”

  I wasn’t so sure of that, for different reasons than normal, but I stayed quiet as Cole settled in behind me. Like right behind me. The hand at my hip slid forward, over my stomach, and then he hauled me back against his chest.

  Oh gosh.

  We hadn’t done this before. And I hadn’t done it with anyone that I . . . that I had wan
ted to. The men I’d been intimate with never stayed the night. Never. This was new. I was cuddling. Or was it spooning? His leg moved against the back of mine, and then shifted. His hips pressed into my behind. Oh man. He was still . . . aroused. So was I.

  “I . . .”

  “What, babe?” he murmured.

  I wet my lower lip. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, not with anyone I chose to be with.”

  Cole didn’t respond for a long moment and then I felt him brush my hair off my shoulder. His lips pressed against the skin there.

  “It’s nice,” I admitted, and maybe I did because it was dark and we couldn’t see each other.