by Ana Gabriel
“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck.” Five sharp thrusts and every one of them makes me come so hard it scatters every thought in my head. Then he crushes me to him, burying his head in my neck, groaning into my skin as all his muscles tense and his cock pulses. He shudders forever, rigid inside me while I cling to him.
Slowly, the real world comes back into focus. Cole lets out a deep breath and kisses me as his muscles relax. Muffled noises come from beyond the bathroom, out in the plane. Oh, God. I have to go back out there.
I pull my clothes back into place and glance in the mirror. I . . . look like I just had amazing sex. And I don’t think YSL makes a product that can cover that up. I fuss with my hair then decide to leave it down. At least I can hide behind it if need be.
“Do you want me to go out first?” Cole asks.
“Yes. I just need a minute.’ I look at him in the mirror, his hair all sexily dishevelled. It could not be more obvious what we’ve been doing in here. Not that Cole Dean needs to care about appearances.
He slips out the door with a slow smile just for me that melts my insides all over again, and I turn the tap on and try to get myself cleaned up.
When I’m done, I slide the lock open, steel myself, and walk out before I change my mind and spend the rest of the flight locked in the bathroom. And, of course, that flight attendant is the first person I make accidental eye contact with. I slam the bathroom door much harder than I need to and a couple of men in expensive suits turn at the sound. Great.
Her lipstick is perfect. My lip gloss is . . . gone. But in the second before she pastes on her professional polite smile, I see that she knows exactly what Cole and I just did.
I hurry back to my seat, trying not to think about it, and when I see Cole with his legs stretched out in his seat looking hot as all hell, I do forget about her and anybody else who thinks they know what we’re doing. All I can think about it what we just did. And when we’re going to do it again.
Chapter Nine
The airport looks just like any other airport I’ve ever been to—long, sterile hallways, bright track lighting, stern looking guards, and crowds of people in a hurry to be somewhere. Yet it feels different, somehow. Special. I haven’t stopped smiling since we stepped off the plane. I know Cole is smirking at me, but I don’t even care if my wonderment amuses him. I’m in fricken Prague.
“What’s first thing you want to see on your list?” Cole asks.
“Old Town,” I say without hesitation. “It’s the heart of Prague, and it has all these houses and churches dating back to the thirteenth century.”
“You’ll love it,” he answers. You can see the Astronomical Clock and Old Town Hall there.”
“You researched too?” I ask, whipping my head up to look at him.
“I’ve been.”
“Oh.” I don’t know why it’s surprising that Cole’s been to Prague before. He’s an international superstar and filthy rich besides.
“We should catch a cab before it gets too late then,” he says, cutting into my thoughts. “Better to see this stuff in the daytime.”
“What? You’re coming with me?”
“Unless you’d prefer I didn’t . . .” he says.
I shake my head. “I just thought you had to be on set.”
“Not until tomorrow morning.”
A smile tugs on my lips. Cole slips his hand through mine and he pulls me toward a set of sliding glass doors. It all happens so fast that it takes me a moment stumbling beside him to fully understand what’s happening.
Cole is holding my hand.
Cole is holding my hand in public.
He looks down at our joined fingers. “Is this ok?”
I nod, suddenly shy. We’ve been naked together countless times, done downright filthy things, yet this feels like the most intimate touch we’ve ever shared.
The flight attendant pops into my head, but I shove her back out. I said it once already—jealousy doesn’t belong in our arrangement. This is strictly for fun.
“A cab?” I ask, remembering his last words.
“Is that okay?”
“Of course, it’s just . . . you laughed before when I mentioned taking a cab. And I booked a rental car. We passed the BMW place a second ago.”
“Let’s forget about the BMW,” he answers. “We’re in Prague. I don’t have to be Cole Dean here.”
I wonder if that’s why he’s holding my hand—because we’re somewhere no one would recognize us, and when we return to L.A., it’ll be back to standing a safe foot apart in public. But then I shake away that thought too. I want to enjoy my first time in Europe, not spend the whole time picking apart every interaction for deeper meaning.
Cole hails a cab and gives instructions to the driver, and then we’re crammed together on a sweaty leather seat, the city zooming by outside the windows, and I can’t take it all in fast enough. The towering cathedrals, the majestic spires, the ornate bridges, all the stone everywhere. It’s even better than I imagined. Prettier than all of the pictures on the Internet. It’s like I’ve stepped back in time.
When Cole chuckles, I realize I’m smiling ear-to-ear like a kid in a candy store.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
“It is,” Cole answers. But when I glance over at him, he’s not looking out of the window. He’s looking at me. Tension radiates in the air so thick I can feel it spreading over my hot skin. Cole’s eyes darken, and I suddenly don’t care about the humiliation I experienced the day after Cole’s driver saw us in the back of the limo—I want him. And I don’t care who sees us.
The car jolts to a stop and the driver swings around, breaking the spell. Cole hands over some bills, and then we’re stepping out in the street. The smell of baking bread and something sweet rises on the air, mixed in with sizzling meats from a nearby street vendor and the salty smell of water drifting in on a warm breeze.
“Welcome to Old Town,” Cole says. He threads his fingers through mine and leads me down the wide, cobbled sidewalk into the throng of tourists. I can’t even speak, just stare with wide eyes as the city unfolds around me.
“What are you thinking?” Cole asks.
“I can’t believe places like this still exist,” I say.
Cole tries unsuccessfully to rein in a smile, and I jab him in the ribs.
“You can stop laughing at me.”
He puts up his hands, chuckling. “I’m not laughing at you.”
“You are. You have been since we got here.”
“I promise I’m not laughing at you. I think it’s . . .”
“Cute?” I suggest.
“Yeah,” he admits. “That’s not a bad thing, you know. You’re not jaded. You can still see the beauty in the world. That’s a gift.”
I’d expected him to make fun of me, and I don’t know what to say now that he complimented me instead. So I pretend I didn’t hear him and point out a beautiful cathedral across the way.
We spend the day drifting through the streets, gazing up at the castles, browsing quirky shops and climbing endless towers that look out on the great city. We eat dinner on an outdoor terrace. Cole orders for both of us.
“I don’t like beer, you know,” I say after the waitress leaves.
“You like beer in Prague. Trust me.”
He’s right. It’s so fresh it doesn’t even taste like beer.
Dinner arrives in the form of an entire animal on a platter. Cole laughs when he sees my eyes.
“It’s Koleno,” he says.
“That explains everything.” I eye the oversized platter. “How do you eat it?”
He laughs again and digs in with a fork and knife, carving off a slice of meat. He holds out the fork for me to take a bite. I lean in and slide the meat off with my teeth. It’s juicy and fall-off-the-bone tender, unlike anything I’ve ever tasted.
“Hate to say I told you so,” Cole says.
“What is this?” I mumble past a full mouth, picking up my own fork and knife to dig in for mor
e.
Another laugh. “Pork knee marinated in dark beer. Try it with some mustard.”
I do. It’s a whole other taste experience.
“I’m never eating anything but pork knee ever again.”
“I’ll have to let my cook know,” he says.
By the time we’re done eating and spill out of the restaurant, the sky’s turned blue-black and is lit with a canopy of twinkling stars. Minstrel music floats through the cobbled streets, which is teaming with vibrancy and light and people swirling past in ribbons of color. The whole thing is so enchanting that I feel like I could burst from happiness. Cole must feel it too, because he pulls me into an alley and presses me against the damp brick. His lips find mine, hot and urgent, and I tangle my hands in his hair to deepen the kiss. He pulls apart for a fraction of a second, and the way he’s breathing fast, the way his eyes sparkle as they stare deeply into mine, the feeling in my chest, like my heart is going to catch fire or float right out of my body—it’s all so much that I feel like I could cry. I wonder if this is what love feels like. And then we’re kissing again, and I never want it to end.
A kid runs into the alley and gasps when he sees us. We laugh, breaking apart.
We’re back on the street now, but it’s different. I don’t even see beautiful Prague anymore. All I see is this beautiful man. I want to be alone.
“I have one last place I want to show you,” he says.
I nod and try not to look disappointed as Cole leads me through the busy streets, cutting a path through the city like a local, until the people dwindle and disappear behind us. Before long I realize he’s leading me to a great hill. He finds a set of nearly invisible stone stairs that trip up the back of the mini-mountain. We climb for ages, my feet sore from a long day of walking. But when I finally reach the top, it’s worth it. The stairs open up to a grassy area with a statue of an angel with sleeping cherubs at her feet in the middle. Beyond it, the city unfurls in front of me, its great spires cutting a sky swirling with mist and stars like a Van Gogh painting. Like a scene out of a fairy tale.
We’re alone.
I can’t help wondering how Cole found this place. If I’m not the first girl he’s taken here.
Stop that, Rose, I chide myself.
Cole wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me into him, pressing his nose into my neck. His kisses are gentle, touches so bare that they send shivers racing down my body. I angle my neck to give him better access, but he doesn’t deepen his kisses. He takes his time, his lips moving down my collarbone until a breathless sigh escapes me. I resist the urge to go faster, harder, and remind myself that he isn’t going anywhere—at least not tonight—and close my eyes and let myself feel it, be consumed by the feeling. Cole finally moves around in front of me. When his hands cup my face and his lips find mine, he kisses me so sweetly that it’s as if he’s trying to say something. I cling onto him, not just because I want to feel him closer, but because I’m so dizzy with emotion that I feel like I could collapse.
“Are you okay?” Cole whispers, his voice tight.
I realize I’m crying. Why the hell am I crying? I’m not supposed to care. I dash away the tears and nod.
“I’m fine.”
He stares at me a moment longer, his dark eyes full of conflict, and then I can’t take it any longer. I pull his face to mine and erase the look with a kiss. But it’s like Cole can read me, can tell that I’m trying to speed up the pace so that it doesn’t feel so personal, so raw. And he won’t let me. He guides me into the grass and presses his weight on top of me, our bodies tangled together from our thighs down to our toes. He hooks my hands together above my head and kisses me senseless.
“Cole, what if someone comes up?”
“They’ll see two lovers,” he says, his breath warm on my skin. Somehow, the idea that he wants to do it in public, that someone could come up at any moment, makes a thrill races through me.
Cole pulls down the front of my shirt and traces his tongue over my skin. I gasp, and when Cole’s mouth finds my breast, I can hardly stifle a moan of pleasure. He lets my shirt fall back into place and explores my body without undressing me, and somehow, the fact that he’s doing all this, making me feel this way with my clothes still on, makes it all the more sexy. He spreads my legs apart with his knee, his fingers moving up my thigh to trace the edge of my lace panties, wet with wanting him, and suddenly I don’t care about the people. A marching band could stomp up those stairs and it wouldn’t stop me from being with Cole. Right here, right now. I unclasp his belt buckle and pull his jeans loose around his hips.
When he enters me, it’s like I’ve been waiting for this moment, building to it, for a century. I cry out in agony and relief, and he smothers my mouth with a kiss so deep it feels like he’s reaching into my soul. Our bodies slide together, one being, and I realize I was wrong before about it being even better when he didn’t prime me for it. It’s different than the other times. This doesn’t feel like fucking. It doesn’t even feel like sex. It feels like making love.
“Rose . . .” Cole whispers.
I suck in deep, uneven breaths, trying to control my emotions, trying to choke down the desperate tears.
But when I look up at Cole, I realize his eyes are glistening too.
~
We lie tied up in each other’s arms, looking at the stars, until we hear twigs snapping and hurry to get dressed. And then we’re laughing and running hand in hand down the stone steps until we’re back in the hustle and bustle of the city. We catch a cab, and I lean into Cole’s warmth as we wind our way through the city to our hotel. I don’t want this day to end.
“Here’s your room key,” Cole says after he checks us into the hotel. “I think it’s down the hall from mine.”
I sputter for words. Of course we have separate rooms. And . . . we’re going to use them. Of course. I paste on a smile and take the keys from him.
“Thank you.”
“Your luggage should be in your room,” he adds.
I nod.
He hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “I just have to make some phone calls about tomorrow.”
“Oh. Right.” I smile brighter and heft my bag up. “See you later then.”
I think he might do it. Kiss me. I can see the conflict raging in his eyes. But the hotel is different than the streets, where he can be anonymous. They know who he is here. In the end, he gives me an apologetic smile. I walk away before he can see my face fall. He calls my name, but I don’t stop until I’m closed up in the elevator, bashing the force-close button until I’m finally alone. And then everything in me loosens. Shakes free. Collapses. I let it get too far. I let my feelings get tangled up in this.
This man is going to break my heart.
It’s two in the morning by the time I fall asleep, alone. I’ve only just drifted off when my phone buzzes. Cole.
“Yes?” I answer groggily.
“I need a favor.”
Anger washes over me and I have to remind myself that this is my job. I still work for him, even if he is doing things to me I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.
“Yes?” I repeat.
“Can you come here? Room 712.”
I hang up. I think about getting dressed, but instead wrap one of the hotel’s bathrobes around the tank top and shorts I wore to bed and pad down the hall. I hesitate before knocking. Oh, God. What if it’s another favor like the last time he needed my assistance late at night? What if Cole has a naked woman in his bed? I shake myself out. Cole wouldn’t be that dickish. Not now.
The door swings open with my hand still in the air, and Cole is there. His hair is dishevelled, but he’s still wearing the clothes he had on earlier. For a moment, I worry he’s been drinking.
“What is it?” I ask.
He steps aside, and I follow him into the room, relieved when I don’t see any naked women lounging about with their asses in the air. The door clicks quietly closed behind me. Cole’s room is twice as big as m
ine. In fact, I don’t think it can be called a room. There’s a separate bedroom and kitchen area, and a sunken living room between them that looks out onto the twinkling city. The bedside lamp glows in the dark. The sheets on the bed aren’t even rumpled. He hasn’t been to bed.
I spin around, and Cole is watching me.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You haven’t been . . .”
The meaning of my unsaid words hits him. “No. God no,” he says.
“Oh. Well good.”
Silence stretches out.
“So what did you need?” I finally ask. “The favor.”
Another silence. Cole twines his fingers together. And then finally: “I lied.”
I blink once. Twice. “What?”
“I don’t have a favor. I just wanted to see you.”
Heat rushes through me, and that feeling—like standing on the edge of a cliff and being so goddamn happy about it—is back.
“Will you sleep in here tonight?”
“In . . . in the same bed as you?” I ask.
“If that’s okay,” he answers.
My heart thumps deep in my chest. I nod and shake out of my robe. Cole watches me as I climb into his bed. My cheeks are flushed as I scoot aside to make room for him. The mattress depresses as he climbs in next to me. I think he’s going to kiss me, touch me, but he doesn’t. He pulls me into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around me, and falls asleep within minutes. And before long, I fall into a deep sleep too.
When I wake up, he’s gone. There’s a note left on the nightstand.
Gone to the set. Enjoy Prague.
Love, Cole.
It’s a single word. Probably means nothing at all. Just a way to sign off. But I clutch the note to my chest and hope to hell that I’m wrong.
Chapter Ten
I watch the sun come up over the Charles Bridge, standing between statues of gods and gargoyles, until hordes of tourists and street performers push me out.
And I think about Cole.
I wander the Old Jewish Cemetery, twisting through gnarled trees and cracked sandstone and marble headstones dating back to the 15th Century, piled one on top of another.