by Kendall Ryan
“Fine.” I thought hard, wanting to offer something that felt personal, like a shared piece of myself, but also a little lighthearted like hers to ease us both into it. One false move, and I knew our little Q&A was over. I had to tread lightly. “My mother was rather eccentric, and when I was young, too young to really speak up, she used to dress me up and dance around our apartment with me. My brothers were both too big to go along with it, and they still tease me about it.”
Corinne’s eyes went wide. “Please tell me there are pictures.”
Fact was, there weren’t pictures of much from our childhood, thank God. There hadn’t been money to waste on a camera, but I kept that to myself.
“None that have survived to see the light of day,” I said. “Now, let’s try a little more serious one this time.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, studying me again with those soulful eyes of hers. “Something serious? Well, once, when I was probably in middle school, I got expelled.”
“What? Why?” Looking at her now, I couldn’t think of anyone less likely to get herself into trouble.
“I was going to school here, right outside of Boston, and I skipped out on a field trip.”
“What do you mean?”
She twirled an errant strand of hair, glancing toward the yellow brick road that led into the next room. “I got sick of the museums, and I wanted to be on my own. Most of my foster homes always had so many kids. I was always surrounded by people. I was tired of it, so I thought I would just live in Boston and see where it took me. They found me about three days later when the police picked me up for stealing from a food cart.”
“Jesus.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair as I imagined a younger, more naive Corinne on the streets alone. It made my blood run cold. “That was brave.”
She shrugged. “Or stupid. Whichever. Now, what about you?”
“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise it’s not going to change anything between us. All this stuff is in our past, right?” I said.
She nodded warily.
She’d dug deep and had told me something very personal, and it was time to return the favor.
I blew out a sigh and bit the bullet. “The reason I was always surrounded by women was because my mom worked as a prostitute when I was young. My brothers and I protected her and, you know . . .” I shrugged and tried to keep my expression blank. “That was just how our lives were for a while.”
Corinne considered me, but her expression didn’t crumple with pity or disbelief. Instead, she simply said, “I’m sorry. That’s a hard road.”
“It was. But I’m the man I am today for it. Just like your past made you who you are.”
“Right.” She nodded, then strolled into the next room. She hadn’t freaked out but she had definitely gotten quiet, and I knew our game of twenty questions had suffered an early demise.
Things felt . . . good between us, though. Easy. Right.
For a little while, we looked at each of the exhibits, and soon, the conversation began to flow again as we discussed movie magic before we made it to the movie viewing area. Tonight was Night of the Living Dead, and Corinne admitted she’d never seen it.
As the classic film played, I watched her get sucked into the story, her eyes wide. When a zombie lurched at a young woman in a cemetery, Corinne clutched my bicep, which I didn’t hate at all.
“You liked it?” I asked when the film was over.
She nodded. “Very much.”
“Still not as good as Shirley Temple, though?” I teased.
She grinned. “Never.”
The lights in the little room came up, and as people shuffled out around us, we stayed in place, watching them go. I could feel the tension rolling off her, and wondered if hers stemmed from anticipation, like mine, or if she was trying to figure out how to run again.
Only one way to find out.
“The museum is about to close. Come back to my place so we can continue our not-a-date?”
I thought I knew her answer before she said it. There was a wariness in her eyes, a caution. But just as before, she surprised me by looking me straight in the eye.
“Sure. Let’s go.”
Chapter Twelve
Corinne
Cooper had been nothing but a gentleman so far, and I’d had a nice time. So, why was my belly suddenly swamped with nerves? He’d promised me this wasn’t a date, and I’d believed him, stupidly at the time.
Now I knew there was something hot stirring between us, and I totally didn’t want to avoid it any longer.
When we arrived at his place, I noticed more details than I had before. The first time I’d been here, I’d been so nervous, and then the second was after I’d drank enough to intoxicate a small village. This time I could actually appreciate the clean, masculine lines of his penthouse with its open floor plan, soft gray wood floors, and cozy leather furniture. It also smelled faintly like Cooper—a mix of honey and leather.
“You have a lovely home,” I murmured as he led me farther inside, past the kitchen and into the living room.
He gestured for me to have a seat. Remembering what we’d done on this sofa a couple of nights ago sent a small ripple of pleasure through me. Jeez, had he needed to sanitize it afterward? I’d practically run out of here like my ass was on fire.
I took a deep breath and lowered myself to the couch.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
I nodded, feeling slightly nervous, and I wasn’t even sure why or how to put into words what I was feeling. I’d steeled myself a long time ago, convinced I couldn’t have something like this. A fling. A casual affair. And yet here I was, with this gorgeous, sexy man who made me want all that and more.
Cooper placed his hand on my jaw and drew me closer, bringing his lips down to mine. “Thank you for this,” he said against my lips.
“For what?” I hadn’t done anything.
He shrugged, placing one soft kiss against my mouth. “For coming out with me. For being here.”
That was when I suddenly realized it. Maybe us exploring this little affair was helping him as much as it was helping me. He’d admitted he’d been heartbroken before we met. I didn’t know why it had never occurred to me before, but now it made sense. Cooper needed this distraction as badly as I did.
I placed my hands on his chest, not to push him away but to show him that I was here, right here with him in this moment.
“Kiss me, Coop,” I whispered.
“Gladly.” He smiled briefly and then his mouth crashed against mine, hot and hungry for me.
We kissed forever, until the space between my legs had grown wet and so achy, I could have screamed. I’d heard of going slow, but this was ridiculous. He was so strong, so deliciously male. God, I’d never wanted anything more.
As if sensing my need for more, Cooper broke away from the kiss and lifted my shirt from over my head, dropping it to the floor while his eyes feasted on my ample cleavage.
He placed a kiss on the top of each breast, and discreetly adjusted his erection. I swallowed a wave of nerves as his right hand traveled under my skirt.
With his fingers in my panties, Cooper paused with his mouth hovering inches from mine. “I want to make you feel good.”
“You are,” I said on a sob.
“I want to make you come,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
His fingers moved in slow, lazy circles, drawing out my pleasure, making my hips rock to get closer. “Tell me what you want, little dove.”
I swallowed, my muscles tensing as his finger teased my opening, but didn’t penetrate.
“It’s late, and I . . .” God, my excuses sounded hollow, even to my own ears. “I should probably get going.”
Cooper pulled his hand from my panties and sucked on his fingers. It was so sensual, so erotic. The idea that he wanted to savor me sent a thrill through me. “You taste so fucking good.”
I watche
d him in stunned fascination. He was so open, so sexual—and it all came so easily to him. I admired him for that. What courage, what strength. I couldn’t imagine putting it all out there, saying those dirty words without feeling totally self-conscious.
“You sure there’s nothing that you want, beautiful?” His voice was rich and low.
It was now or never. My heartbeat was pulsing low in my groin, and I wanted him. Wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything. Speak up, Corinne.
“Last time . . .” I huffed out a breath. “I liked what you did last time.”
A slow, devilish grin spread over Cooper’s mouth. “Thank fuck. I’ve wanted to bury my face in your pussy since I first saw you outside the museum in that skirt.”
I sucked in a breath. His words were so raw, so sexual—it was a huge turn-on.
“Let me take you to my bedroom. I want you to lie down and get comfortable.”
I nodded, letting him pull me to my feet, and left my shirt we’d discarded on the floor.
His room was handsomely decorated in black and white. Elegant and luxurious, but also strikingly simple, it fit him.
Arranging the pillows beneath my head, Cooper laid me out so I was comfortable on his massive king-sized bed.
With my skirt rucked up around my stomach, he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and drew them carefully down my legs and over my ankles. My bare flesh was already soaked, and as desperate as I was for his touch, I didn’t know how to put into words what I wanted.
“Don’t do that,” he said softly.
“Do what?” I lifted up on my elbows to watch him move between my thighs.
“You’re in your head, worrying about something you don’t need to be. Just relax and let me make you feel good, okay?”
I smiled down at him. “Yes, Cooper.”
He placed a soft kiss at the top of my pubic bone. “Good girl.”
Rewarding me with a sweep of his tongue through my swollen lips, Cooper took his time, giving me playful licks and gentle nips.
“Promise me one thing.”
His words surprised me. I opened my eyes and found his gaze on mine. “Yes?”
“You won’t run off this time, will you?”
The sentiment behind his words hit me square in the chest. He didn’t want me to feel the need to escape, like we’d done something wrong.
I appreciated that, so I nodded. Maybe we’d lie together and cuddle, or talk.
“Good. Then let me love this sweet little pussy.”
Using his fingers to spread me apart, he nibbled gently on my clit with his teeth, and I felt his touch like a jolt of electricity. Moments later, his mouth covered me, his tongue swirling, circling—all his attention centered on that sensitive bundle of nerves, and oh my God. His mouth felt so incredibly warm against me, and he was extremely gifted at this.
Opening my eyes, I watched Cooper pleasure me. His eyes were closed, his expression soft. A smile tilted my lips when I noticed that as he lay on his stomach on the bed, his hips rutted uselessly against the mattress.
“Cooper,” I murmured, so turned on by watching him.
“Yes, dove. Come for me.”
Seconds later, my whole body went tight, my muscles tensing as wave after wave of delicious pleasure crashed through me.
When my senses returned, I gazed at Cooper, appreciating how truly beautiful he was. He’d shifted until we lay on our sides, facing each other, and I placed my hand on his jaw. He had such striking eyes, a sexy jaw, full lips, and that messy bedroom hair that I wanted to rake my fingers through. His size made me feel small, which wasn’t easy—I never usually felt small or dainty. My curves had curves. But Cooper’s broad muscled body and six-foot-four frame dwarfed mine. And I liked that.
But in this moment, it wasn’t his looks I was noticing. It was how utterly giving this man was—bringing me pleasure and expecting nothing in return. That wasn’t normal. And he was clearly turned on. His jeans had grown rather tight in the front.
“I’m so sorry. I swear, I’m not trying to be selfish.”
He chewed on his lip—his erection was the elephant in the room between us. “No pressure. You’re doing fine.”
He wasn’t begging me to pet his one-eyed python, and for that, I was immensely grateful. Strangely, though? It only made me want to touch him more. He had such restraint, such control over his body, and apparently mine. The thought of making him feel even half as good as he’d made me feel was intoxicating.
He brushed my hair away from my face. “You’ve come so far. I’m just happy to see you enjoying yourself and not feeling any shame after.”
I nodded. “You make me feel very good.”
Those words were hard to say. They were so brutally honest, but it was the simple truth. Cooper wasn’t concerned with his own release, or pushing me further than I was willing to go. He just gave—without expecting a damn thing in return. It made me want to reward him.
I swallowed the heavy lump in my throat as a tidal wave of bravery surged through me. I placed my hand on Cooper’s denim-covered erection, and he sucked in a breath.
“Dove?”
I met his eyes. His green eyes had gone a shade darker with lust, and his voice was low and husky. He was so utterly sexy. So irresistible. I truly didn’t know how I’d not done this sooner.
“I want to . . . try.”
“Try?” he whispered, barely breathing.
I nodded, my confidence growing at the awareness of the effect I had on him. “I want to touch you.”
Cooper’s mouth curved into a lazy grin. “You can do any-fucking-thing you want to me.”
I giggled. God, I loved how he did that. How he could immediately defuse any situation so I felt comfortable. I was coming to find I liked many things about him. The least of which were the orgasms he handed out like they were candy.
“I’m not experienced. I’m not . . .” I cleared my throat, pausing for a breath. God, Corinne, pull it together.
He quieted me with a soft kiss. “No judgment. No expectations.”
Releasing the button of his jeans, I slowly lowered the zipper. Cooper lifted his hips so that when I tugged, his jeans and boxers slid easily down his hips.
Out sprang the most handsome cock I’d ever seen. Not that I had many to go by, but this thing was truly beautiful. Rigid and thick with a wide, rounded head, it was a work of art, belonging on something akin to Michelangelo’s David—only the erotic version. There was hardly any hair covering him, he was neatly groomed, and I wasn’t sure why that was something I noticed, but I guessed it was because I was taking in every detail like it might be my last time to see him like this, so exposed and vulnerable. So everything.
I lifted his cock from his belly, palming and playing with it like it was my new favorite toy.
“Christ,” Cooper grunted.
I stared at him in wonder, honestly curious how he fit this thing in his pants. Because, seriously.
“You trying to kill me?” he murmured.
“Oh.” I dropped his cock onto his belly where it gave a soft thwack. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Amused, he petted my hair. “No.”
Smiling with a new flash of bravery, I turned toward him where we lay on our sides facing each other. Cooper brought his hands to my face, kissing me while I stroked his cock up and down until his breathing grew ragged, and I knew I was doing something right.
“That feel good?” I whispered.
“Jesus, dove.” He moaned. “So good.”
Spurred on by his soft need-filled noises, I continued working my hand up and down.
“A little faster, beautiful,” he murmured.
I obeyed, my hand gliding over his thick shaft again and again. While we kissed deeply, his release shuddered through him, coating my hand in warm, sticky fluid.
Although I wouldn’t know it until later, this moment would irrevocably change things between u
s forever.
Chapter Thirteen
Corinne
When I woke up the next morning surrounded by my own yellow and gray bed linens, I couldn’t deny that I was a little bit disappointed. Being with Cooper, feeling him touch me . . . it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my life, and the memory of his searing skin against mine was the sweetest of all.
And touching him, his thick manhood pumping semen between us? That made me feel hot all over again. God, I would have given almost anything to stay the night with him, to wake up in his strong arms and do it all over again. But, of course, I couldn’t. I had responsibilities that he couldn’t even imagine.
Rolling over in bed, I checked the time to make sure Aaron would still be asleep, then rolled to my feet and grabbed my phone before heading into the kitchen. It was Sunday, which meant he’d be expecting breakfast, and I was making scrambled eggs, his favorite.
Padding to the fridge, I opened the door and pulled out all the breakfast essentials before setting to work. But the more I clanked dishes against the counter, the more I found my mind drifting away from the task at hand and back to last night.
I sighed. Not for the first time, I wondered what Cooper was even doing with me. When I thought of him, I pictured him in his tailored business suit with his steely gray tie and that gorgeous face. He was the stuff of GQ magazine and Hollywood mixers. Successful, hardworking, affectionate, compassionate, and a million other things I wasn’t.
And me? I was . . . curvy. That was a polite way to put it. Quiet, almost brooding sometimes. But on top of all of that, I was complicated. High-maintenance and complicated.
The last thing a guy like Cooper Kingsley needed was a girl who didn’t fit in his world, a girl who could never be the kind of pinup stunner his brainy sister-in-law was . . . an easy charmer who looked like she had it all together.
I let out a deep breath through my nose as I whisked some eggs in a bowl and added an extra dose of cream for good measure.
Cooper and I didn’t make sense together. The way he touched me, the way he made me feel? Both those things were beyond incredible, but they just didn’t add up to a sum total that could possibly work out. And as we got closer, I needed to make sure I kept that at the forefront of my mind.