by Kayt Miller
“What?” Then her face scrunches up in disgust. “No. Now I can’t unsee it. Don’t ever say shit like that to me again, ever, you fecking git.”
I chuckle all the way into our bedroom, then stop immediately because Quinn was on the bed, wearing my jersey. I swallow hard because I’ve got mixed feelings about that now. I may never play the sport again. Odds aren’t in my favor. But she looks sexy as fuck, so I’m going to do my best to think only of the beautiful body that’s touching my clothes.
Pushing the door closed behind me, I press the lock and limp toward her. Setting my stick next to the bed, I sit beside her. “Love.”
“Happy New Year, Cooke.”
Leaning closer, I take her top lip between mine and suckle it. Her lips are plump and soft, always glossy, always delicious. She brings her hand up to my cheek and touches me gently. I peek down at her fingernails and smile. “Like what you did this time.” She’s painted them in pale shades of glittery blue. Like snow and sparkle.
“Pretty simple, but I thought it was appropriate for the holiday.”
I lift her hand to my lips and kiss the tips of her fingers. God, I can’t wait until she’s wearing my ring. Soon. I hope it’s soon.
“So, tell me about this YouTube thing you watched?”
“Well.” I pull her off the bed and place her between my legs, my brace off to the side. “First, this has to come off.” I point to the jersey.
She places her hands on the bottom edge and slowly lifts it past her gorgeous breasts, over her face, and off, tossing it on the floor behind her. I stare at her. She was completely nude beneath the shirt. Her chest moves up and down, and it’s flushed pink. Starting at her neck, I slide my palm down over each breast to the tip, watching it harden with just a touch. They’re too tantalizing to pass over without the attention they deserve. Leaning forward, I lick all around one areola, nibbling some after that. Suckling on the nipple comes next. The sounds Quinn emits when I devote time to her breasts make my body hum.
I focus my attention on the other side while still touching her with both hands, pulling her closer so I can touch as much of her as I can. “Your skin is so soft, love.”
“I m-moisturize.” She can barely say the words as I nip beneath her left tit.
“It pays off.”
She giggles and I smile, kissing her from her chest down to her stomach. My hand seeks the warmth in her center. “You’re wet.” I moan at the feel of her. Using my middle finger, I swirl and press her clit. She widens her legs without my asking, which allows me to slowly enter her with one finger. I know tonight is the night, but I don’t want to hurt her. Right now, I want my beautiful girl to come on my hand.
“Feel good?” I ask, focusing my attention on her needy clit.
Her hands are on my shoulders, but her head is thrown back. “Yeah. Feels good.”
Her hips begin to work in tandem with my fingers. She’s getting close. Taking her breast in my mouth, I work her into a frenzy until she breaks. Her body vibrates against me as my fingers are soaked with wetness.
This is it. I can’t wait any longer. With her help, I stand and pull off my tee. I’ve taken to wearing those athletic pants that snap on either side of my legs, which means I can take them off without fussing with the brace. It also means that in seconds, I’m completely nude and harder than I’ve ever been. I sit on the bed and scoot farther into the center while still having my feet on the ground.
“What next?” she murmurs.
Lying down, I reach for her hand. “Climb up onto the bed, love. Straddle me.”
“Cooke.” She sounds nervous. “I—”
“Shh, come on. This will work fine. I’ve done my research.”
She snorts and giggles. “YouTube is research?”
“Bloody right. I learned how to fix my kitchen faucet thanks to YouTube.”
She giggles again as she places her knee on the bed on my left side. When she’s all the way on the bed, she kneels next to me. The view from here of my naked girlfriend is making me harder.
“Love. I’m desperate here.”
Taking a deep breath that I find completely charming, she brings one leg over to my other side until she’s hovering over me. I’m stroking my cock at the sight before me. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.”
“Cooke… I don’t know what to do.”
I run my finger through her folds, locating her clit again. I’ll bring her to orgasm one more time so she’s ready.
“Kiss me,” I say as I feel her move with me.
Quinn leans down and takes my mouth in a hungry kiss. It tells me her nerves have lessened and she’s getting more comfortable.
As soon as I feel her release, I use one hand on her hip to nudge her back and the other to place the head of my cock at her entrance. “Sit, slowly. You’re in control, Quinn.”
“Okay. It’s just—”
“I’ll help. Talk to me.”
As she slowly moves downward, I breach her until the head of my cock is inside her warmth. “God.” I can’t believe how good it feels already. And then it hits me. “Shit. Condom.”
She stops. “I’m on the pill.”
She’s on the pill? I’d wonder why she’s on it, but I know my sister started taking it because of cramps and such related to her cycle. I suspect it’s the same for Quinn. “You okay with no condom, then, love?”
She nods. “Are you?”
“Fuck yes,” I hiss as she starts to press down farther and farther. I want to fucking move but I can’t. Not yet.
When I’m just over halfway, she stops and pants. “I think you should help me. Can you press up as I press down? I just want… I’m overthinking, worrying about the pain.”
“Aye.” I place my hands on her hips. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
“On three,” she says, blowing air out through her puckered lips. “One.” She breathes in deeply, then out. “Two.” She repeats her breathing exercise. “Three.”
I wait until I feel her moving, and then I thrust up until I’m completely seated inside of her. I hear her whimper, so I look up as I rub her back and hips. “Okay?”
She’s doing her breathing exercises, but they’re quicker now.
“Love, I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine.” She smiles down at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. Just… don’t move yet. Give me a sec.”
“Tell me when you’re ready to move. I’ll wait.” Forever.
After a minute or two, Quinn nods down at me. “Ready.”
Placing my hands on her hips, I urge her to move up, using her knees to lift. When she’s up several inches, she presses down again, and I see fucking stars. “Yes, Quinn. Again.”
My girl is a quick study, because in no time she’s moving up and down faster. She’s so tight and warm and wet, I don’t think I’ll make it long, so I reach down and rub her little nub again. When she suddenly stops moving, I feel her squeeze me so hard, I think I could pass out from the feeling.
“Quinn,” I shout as I come with her. Pressing in as far as I can, I release deep inside of her, wondering what it’d be like to be a father.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Wow, Cooke.” I smile down at him from my perch above him.
“Brilliant,” he says, still touching me, his palms exploring my skin.
It makes my breasts peek again. I’m not ready to do that again just yet, so I push myself up and feel us disconnect. I’m okay with that, because I’m a little sore down there. Lifting my leg back over him, I scoot off the bed and make my way into the bathroom. I know there’s probably blood. I’d heard it was possible. When I get inside, I shut the door and find a cloth. I’m moist and sticky, so I clean myself up.
I feel warm hands slide around my waist until he’s holding me. “You okay, beautiful?”
I look up and see us both in the mirror. “Yeah. You?”
“I’ve never been happier in my life.”
&n
bsp; “Really?” I smile brightly at his reflection.
“Really.”
Turning in his arms, I wrap my arms around his neck, push myself up on my tiptoes, and kiss him. Not a sexy kiss, just a soft one. “I love you, Cooke.”
“I love you more, Quinn.”
“Impossible.”
Cooke slaps my ass and kisses me quick. “Let’s get to bed. I’m wiped out.”
“Me too.” I’d like to say I’m ready to do it again, but I’m not. My lady-land feels out of sorts. But I liked it. I liked it a lot. And that’s probably because it was with Cooke. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. I let my imagination go for a second, thinking of Bryant and me. It could never be him. Or anyone else for that matter. Nope, Cooke is the only one.
Sliding beneath the sheets, still nude, I scoot closer to him, placing my palm on his chest. I feel his warm hand cover mine and squeeze; then, with a sigh, he says, “I’ve never been happier in my life, love.”
“Same here.” And I mean it. Before I met Cooke, my life was uneventful. It was me constantly trying to figure out life. Falling for the wrong guys, clinging to a fantasy rather than reality. I laugh to myself, because if I could tell the Quinn from six months ago that real life was so much better than fantasy, she probably wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true.
I feel Cooke’s arm wrap around me to pull me closer, so I go. Why wouldn’t I? Hell, I’ll go anywhere this man wants to take me.
“Love?” Cooke’s voice sounds unsure, tentative.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want children?”
I press my arm down against the bed and push myself up to sitting. “Now?”
“No. Not yet. Someday?”
“Yes. I’d like one or two. Do you?”
“I do. With you.”
“Oh.” My voice cracks. “Cooke.” I sniffle. “I want them with you too. I can picture some mini Cookes out there on the pitch.” I settle back down and curl up against him as he wraps his arm around me, pulling me even closer.
He sighs contentedly. “I hope they look like you. Stunning. With dark hair and azure blue eyes.”
Damn. I meant to look that up. “There isn’t anything better than hearing that the person you love wants you to have their children.”
“Same, love. I feel the same.”
Epilogue
Six months later
“This is it,” I say, attempting to be as perky as possible.
“It is.”
I can tell Cooke’s nervous, because his good leg is bouncing up and down on the exam table. In case you were wondering, we’re back in England for the summer so Cooke can have his brace removed. It’s been a long time coming, let me tell you.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thompson,” says the orthopedic surgeon as she enters the room. “Are you ready for this?”
“I am,” Cooke says with confidence.
I’m not. This entire thing is scary, because they need to put him under anesthesia to remove the brace. He’ll be in pain afterward, and there will be some swelling after the pins are removed. I know he’ll do fine, but it’s still nerve-racking.
Then there’s afterward. What will happen next? Will he be able to play? Those are the questions we keep hearing on the telly since we’ve been back in England. The rugby pundits are all speculating on his return. I wish I could tell you that everything’s been settled, but it hasn’t. Once this brace is off, he’ll start intensive physical therapy. He’ll have to learn to walk, literally, before he can run. We know he won’t be back for this season, and it remains to be seen about the next one, but I think Cooke’s fine either way. Honestly, I’m terrified of him playing again and reinjuring his leg, but I’ll need to trust the physicians and Cooke to do the right thing.
I have one more year of college remaining, and I plan to finish my degree. It may be difficult with everything Cooke will be going through, though, so we’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, Cooke still has his place in Ames, and I’m still living with Tayler—sort of. I’m not there very much, but I pay my half of the rent and stay with her when I can, so it’s all good, especially since Tayler’s got her own drama happening. Boy troubles. I try to help when I can, but being away from her and my other friends, and even Vic and Mary, is hard. FaceChat is handy, so I can see and talk to them, anytime I want. Even Vic is set up for it now. I think he did it more for Mary than himself because she seems to enjoy looking at my face on his laptop as I talk to her. She’s such a good girl.
My hope is that we can fly back to Ames for his therapy. They’ve been great, and his trainers here in England are pleased. If that’s approved, I’ll be able to get another semester under my belt, at the very least. No matter what they decide, I’m not leaving Cooke so I’ll have to figure things out. I’m good at that. No worries.
“We’re ready if you are.” The doctor chuckles.
Leaning over him, I kiss his lips. “I love you. I’ll be waiting right outside this door.” I kiss him again. “Your mom and Saff are here. Saff wants the chance to give you a pre-surgery pep talk.”
He chuckles, then nods and gives me a smile I recognize. It’s a fake one. He’s nervous. Maybe Saffie can help with that since I’m doing my best to hold it together. When I step out of the room, I smile at her and Caroline, Cooke’s mom. “They’re getting ready to take him back.”
“Right.” Caroline stands, straightening her dress. The woman is always dressed to the nines. I guess she must dress the part since she’s owns her own business. A cute dress shop not far from Twickenham. I like her, and she seems to like me. Cooke and Saffie both say she does, and I don’t think they’d lie. I haven’t spent enough time with her to be sure, however. When she visited Cooke in the states, I did my best to let them have time together. Besides, I was busy with school and work. The time I did spend with the two of them proved how much they care about each other. That their little family was a tight-knit group.
The same is true about Cooke and my family. He’s gone home with me several times, and it’s gone well. My dad’s the one who’s having trouble warming up to the big Brit. I think he’s worried I’ll fly off to live in England, never to return. Well, the first part might be true, but I’ll always come back. I’d miss my family too much, even if my brothers are a pain in the arse.
I look down at my leggings and long tee and sigh, thinking about Caroline’s outfit. Comfort. That’s all I was thinking about, because I knew I’d be here the entire time with Cooke. Running my palms over my shirt, I attempt to rid it of some wrinkles, I smile at the sparkle on my finger. Holding my hand up in front of me, I stare at the pretty sapphire and diamond engagement ring Cooke gave me just yesterday morning. He said he chose the sapphire to match my eyes. It’s beautiful, just like his proposal.
It wasn’t anything crazy. It was at the breakfast table, the one where he’d held my hands in his and told me he loved me for the first time. Like before, he prepared scrambled eggs and toast. There was juice and coffee and my handsome boyfriend on one knee. His good one. Holding a small box, he opened it and smiled while I gasped and covered my mouth in shock. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it.
Holding the box, he simply said, “Love. You’re my everything. Marry me and make me the happiest man in England. The world.”
“Yes.” Tears were streaming down my face, because of course they were. “Yes. I’ll marry you.” Before I even took the ring from the box, I stood and wrapped my arms around his neck. “How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one, love. And all thanks to a wrong number.”
“Right?” I laughed, helping him up from the floor and into his chair. “We should probably invite Maxwell Quinn to the wedding. Did you ever find him?”
“Ian found him. Said he was a right git.”
I coughed, then laughed. “Well, it’s lucky you got me that night instead, huh?”
“So bloody lucky.” Cooke pulled me closer until I was standing between his legs. I gazed into his be
autiful golden brown eyes. Bending down, I touched my lips to his for a sweet, soft kiss I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
“You did it, babe.” I say as I lean down to kiss him.
“It’s off?” he asks groggy from the anesthesia.
“Yep. You weren’t even in there two hours. They said you were perfect.” Except now the hard part begins. Rehab.
“I’m glad that thing is off. I was starting to forget what life was like before I had it,” he chuckles.
“Your mom wants to come in. Then Saff. I’ll come back in after that. They’ll be moving you into a room soon.”
“You’re staying with me, right?” His voice sounds a little sad. Scared even.
“I’m not going anywhere, love.” Yeah, I’ve started using the endearment as well. I like it.
Squeezing my hand, he smiles, and with a sleepy voice, mumbles, “Good. Don’t ever leave me.”
I squeeze his hand. “Never, love.” Not ever. I watch Cooke sleep for probably longer than I should. Caroline wants to see him, but I’m going to take just a little longer so I can be sure he’s comfortable. Running my fingers over his forehead, I push some of his hair away from his handsome face. His beard is gone, sadly but I suspect he’ll grow it back from time to time.
Moving in closer, I say in his ear. “I love you, Cooke. I don’t know what I did in my last life to deserve you.” I’m getting a little misty-eyed now. This day has been a long time coming and Cooke has been nothing but a champ throughout. “I’m so glad you called that wrong number, because if you hadn’t, I’m positive I would never have found love like this.”
Cooke’s eyes flutter open and a smile slowly appears. “I’m the lucky one, Quinn Thompson.”
I don’t know why but hearing him say my first name with this last makes me gasp. “That sounds amazing.”
“It does.”
Feeling the need to confess, I say, “I doodled that in one of my notebooks not long after that wrong number. Did I ever tell you that?”