To-Do Him List

by Denise Marie

  “I could use a nap too, baby.”

  She threw her leg over his, and scooted for the curtain when his large hand halted her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  She held her breath and offered a fake smile, not sure a coy diversion from his seriousness would work to her advantage. “To my bunk?”

  A swift attempt to maneuver past him only made his grip tighten. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t letting you out of my sight. You’re sleeping here, with me, so get comfortable.”

  She raised her eyebrows, exaggerated her uncertainty about how they were going to do that.

  “Just think of me as your own personal body pillow.” He winked. “However, I can’t promise lumps won’t form in this pillow.”

  In order to get even, she beat her pillow a few times. He held his arm around her tight, as if he feared she’d reject him or leave. She wasn’t going anywhere, not yet. She eased her leg over both of his, caged him in, and let him know she’d stay—for now.

  He sighed and tipped her chin up with his fingers, placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Sweet dreams.”

  She closed her eyes and the need for sleep consumed everything except her worry his lust and affection went beyond the surface, deeper than the shallow kind she intended.

  ****

  Within seconds, the tension in Izzy’s body faded with her quiet slumber. Cole stared at the top of the bunk, where most of the guys taped family pictures, kept grounded in their roots. But his? Bare. That would only make him miss it, or remind him every day of his mother’s choice to not be a part of it. He could however, stare at Isabelle forever.

  Every moment of concentration on her outweighed the need for sleep. Her long, silky blonde hair draped over his arm, and he longed to comb his fingers through it, comfort them both. He smiled, studied the length of her beautiful pale skin. For someone from Florida, you’d think she’d have a tan, but she didn’t. She would be average in most people’s eyes but to him, a priceless gem.

  The bus jerked when Derek pressed on the brakes. She stirred in his arms. The hum of the road that always lulled him to sleep, kept him rested for sold out shows like tonight, no longer calmed him. Her phone call replayed in his mind, several times.

  We need to get more serious about this list.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dear Diary,

  My body was his to command…

  Two hundred thirty one bumps in the road in three hours. Cole bounced with every one, counted them. The bus stopped in Portland, Michigan a half hour ago, yet he still lay there wide-awake and even more exhausted. He didn’t want to miss it, the sounds.

  She talked in her sleep. The only explanation for missing it the night before, a crash much like sleeping pills, chased with a bottle of whiskey. Heated, ravenous sex as they’d had would do that. He clung to the edge of sexual frustration and her moans held him there. He contemplated finding his own relief but he’d experienced it, the real thing, her.

  It would never be the same again. The rest of the guys made their way to their bunks a while ago, naps all around. They weren’t the only ones who benefited from the use of the hotel to all hours of the night. The details he listened to, of their Scandal-less behavior along with her moans drove him to the edge of sexual insanity.

  He squeezed his eyes closed and raised his arm over her. He didn’t want to touch her beautiful curves too much, didn’t think his libido could handle the torture, but he needed her. With the tips of his fingers, he tickled her back.

  Please let her be feeling better.

  He didn’t have to move too far; she stirred so much in her sleep she darn near laid on top of him now. Not helping matters.

  She bolted upright, well, until she hit her head on the top of the bunk. “Ouch.”

  ****

  “Oh shit. Sorry honey.”

  She scowled at him and rubbed the back of her head. “This better be good.”

  He squinted as though he could feel her pain, but his smile gave away his lack of regret. They stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Her painful haze cleared the second he gripped her tight and rolled with her, until she lay beneath him.

  His warmth blanketed her, much like his luring scent. Her panties soaked with desire when she closed her eyes and inhaled. His male aroma filled the tiny space and she didn’t think another night of sleep above him was an option.

  He held her face in his hands, and paused as if he fought his own resistance. He leaned in slowly, kissed her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and with light pressure, her lips. She smiled at the desperation in his kisses.

  “Sorry baby, pleeeasse let me make it up to you.”

  His tender kisses continued to the side of her mouth, down her neck, lower. She moaned. The tender touch of his lips on her collarbone, combined with the feel of his hand as it roamed to the hem of her shirt and lifted, stirred the wantonness in her that only his touch produced. A spontaneity that he accepted, ’cause he craved it too. His plea struck her heart, and she’d drain herself of all sensibility to sate him.

  She arched her back, allowed him to get her shirt loose and slide his hands up to the clasp of her bra. Alert now, she opened her eyes to his and the same desperation to be lost in one another’s devotion.

  “I need you, now.”

  “Then take me.”

  She stretched for the hem of his shirt and lifted it up. He raised his weight off her. With one hand braced on the mattress, he freed the other hand from under her shirt long enough to grab behind his head and tug his shirt. It slipped over his head with ease and messed his hair in the process. He threw it aside and stilled above her with temptation in his eyes, to seduce her beyond the list. He didn’t have to fight it, not in this moment.

  She bit her lip and admired his upper body, still not able to fathom his interest in her. The way he’d confided in her the night before only heightened her desire for him. For a moment possession flooded her emotions, hope that only she held a special place with the real, Cole Davies.

  She couldn’t recall a need for something so bad, the way she needed him now. Images of last night flashed through her mind and the way he smiled at her, anticipation had hit him too. He crushed his lips to hers as if it was the last time he’d ever get to touch a woman. It excited her.

  She forced him up with a shove of her hands, lacked patience, needed to feel his skin on hers. She scrambled for the hem of her shirt and yanked it up. When she arched, extended her hands above her head with her shirt and bra, his pupils dilated. He used one hand to stop the clothing at her wrists, firm. On his elbow, to balance himself without crushing her, he looped the shirt and bra around her wrists. It wasn’t too tight, but it held.

  She gasped. The slight power he held over her excited her. She peered into his lust-filled gaze and relaxed into his dominance. She was safe to let him have his way with her.

  He stared into her eyes and the corner of his mouth rose. “I figured your list was all the permission I needed.”

  With a wicked smile, he urged her on with a slow thrust against her lower half. She let her eyes drift closed and took long, slow breaths, to regain control. When she focused on him again, everything else around them had faded. He traced down the side of her body with a feather touch of his fingertip and followed the path with his intense gaze. He lingered at the button on her pants. She shivered.

  “Cold?”

  She glared at him. The seductive tone in his voice forced her patience, “If you don’t get inside me soon, I might—”

  The rashness of his kiss cut her off. Their teeth knocked but it only spurred her on. He used the distraction to his advantage, undid her pants and slipped his hand down the front. He smiled, enjoyed how wet he made her. He traced around her opening with his finger, dipped into her heat with the tip but it wasn’t enough. She shifted her hips, to get his finger where she needed it.

  “Patience, my love.”

  The heat of his words sent tingles through her, li
ke a tidal wave determined to make every tiny hair on her body respond. It did. The way he handled her made the impact of climax too intense to seek out. She pressed her butt into the mattress and away from his hand, but he pinned her tied wrists and kissed her into a trance before shoving two fingers deep inside her.

  “Cole.”

  Her body contracted as he kissed his way down her neck to just below her collarbone. She could feel his smile on her upper breast.

  “I’m gonna come. It’s too much.”

  At that moment, he latched on and sucked, hard. The combination of this, while his fingers curled to stroke her G-spot, made all her senses soar. Her body followed his command; she no longer controlled it. Her muscles vibrated as she fought off release, bound and at his mercy to please.

  It built too strong, too fast. Her skin gave into the suction of his lips and the high of being marked by him intoxicated her. He let go and kissed up her neck. “My mark on you is beautiful,” he whispered in her ear and stroked her with more pressure.

  She could no longer fight it, tease herself with pleasure. The power he used over her, in her, gave her no choice but to let go. The warmth of release exploded in her passage. She needed to move, ride out the wave his hand created, but she couldn’t. He held her in place and used his fingers to compel her to come so hard her body trembled beneath him. She closed her eyes and bit down on his shoulder to muffle her scream.

  “God. Isabelle, you’re flooding my hand.”

  Before she could come down from the most delightful high, he lifted off her as much as the space allowed and tugged her pants free from her body, followed by his own. She gathered her senses enough to open her eyes. He stared at her like a feral beast desperate to take its prey.

  “Yes. Whatever it is you need, yes.” She relaxed and surrendered to him.

  He spread her thighs with his knee, put his elbows down on either side of her head, and fastened his grip to her bound hands. The spasms of her climax still lingered while he moved his feet for leverage. He kissed the side of her neck and whispered. “Hold tight, baby. This isn’t going to last long.”

  She spread her fingers enough so he could lace his through hers and squeeze. With one forceful thrust, he embedded himself in her, deep. Not given a moment to come down from the first orgasm, she startled when her body responded again, not as intense but enough to make her scream.

  He pounded into her, hard. His feet braced at the end of the bed powered a force sure to leave her sore but she could see it in his eyes, he needed to be deep, needed all of her.

  She threw her bound hands over his head and drew him in for a kiss. “I want to feel you explode inside me,” she whispered in his ear. Sweat beaded on his skin and his thrusts filled her at a desperate pace.

  He drove in hard one last time, pulled at her stiffened arms to force his shaft in deeper yet. It was as if he wouldn’t be satisfied until his seed touched her core. He dropped his face into the crook of her neck, and panted while his body jerked with the last of his release.

  “Isabelle. Mine.”

  He didn’t scream. His words were soft and the intensity of them touched a depth in her she didn’t know existed.

  He collapsed on top of her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as he twitched inside of her, still affected by her even though the height of their passion had ended.

  “Cole?”

  “Hmm?” Her skin vibrated under his muffled, deep voice.

  She giggled. “C-can’t breathe, again.”

  Happiness washed over her when he rose up on his elbows, disheveled, satisfied. He tugged at her shirt and bra and relieved the tension in her wrists with the massage of his warm hands. “That was—”

  She opened her mouth, intended to finish his sentence when the bite mark on his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh my God.” She touched it with her fingertip.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I do think I’m pretty damn good, but God?”

  She smacked him on the bite mark and he flinched.

  “Sorry.” She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

  “Believe me. You biting me only made me come harder.” He brushed hair back out of her face and kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t think I have ever come that hard, or that much.” With a light touch of his finger, he traced her lips. “You may be dripping me for days.”

  He eased himself from her body, renewed with excitement at his words, but she still winced.

  “Sorry for being so rough, baby. Are you okay?”

  An admission she’d held back surfaced to her mind, and no physical gesture alone could express it, only words. “Cole?” Her voice was quiet, close to a whisper.

  “Yes?”

  “With you, everything’s perfect.”

  They stared at each other, lost for words.

  Her pulse increased and her legs were restless with his weight. She snagged the first shirt within her reach, which happened to be his, and threw it on. “I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

  Before he could respond, she opened the curtain and stumbled in her escape. When she stood up, Drew lay in his bunk at eye level, the curtain wide and a smile on his face. “Didn’t peg you as a screamer.”

  ****

  Deep red blotches covered her dewy skin while she scurried to the bathroom. He glared at his best friend, but shrugged with a smile when the bathroom door closed.

  “Fuck that was hot.” Zander shouted.

  Brett laughed. “My hand and I get the bathroom next.”

  He fell onto his back with a sigh, still buzzed from lust. He’d been there, alone and listening to one of the other guys get laid, so he was well aware of the effect it had. After all, they were human and men.

  Drew laughed and closed his curtain, blocking the view of his best friend. He didn’t have to see his face to know what troubled him.

  “Cole, my love, you have some ‘splainin’ to do.” His laughter trailed off into a quiet mumble. “Gonna get your heart broke, man.” Drew’s words hit him, hard.

  He covered his eyes with his forearm. “I know.”

  ****

  Isabelle stared at her reflection in the mirror, flushed, red, wild. She tugged the collar of his shirt down and covered her mouth with her free hand. A deep-red spot marked her. It seemed rather childish but at the same time, wonderful. Even when fully clothed, he’d be with her.

  She touched the spot and something in her changed. No more need to analyze, just pure unadulterated fun. She’d be leaving friends behind, that was a given, but thinking of him as another friend, not too unbearable.

  They would say goodbye either way. She considered herself somewhat lucky, thankful to have notice of death when others didn’t.

  The shirt draped her body, the neck wide, showed his possession. She shrugged and opened the door with a liberated breath, lighter on her toes than she’d been in months.

  She held out her hand and skimmed everything she could with the breeze of her fingertips. She was meant to be here. With her toes on the edge of his bunk, she hoisted herself up when he grabbed her ankle.

  “Eeeek!”

  He laughed. She could hear the sadness in it, but at least he tried.

  “Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t changed my mind.”

  She needed to get back to their light-hearted relationship. The phrase, “life is too short” couldn’t be truer. Time didn’t allow for deep-seeded connections, love. All of which she could see with him.

  She practiced her smile, and then titled her head so she could see his face. “If I may have your permission, sir, I’d like to get a couple things before I return.”

  “Wench.”

  Deep male laughter filled the air. She rolled her eyes and gathered her phone and journal in one hand. When she crouched down to climb over him, a little revenge simmered in her veins. She smiled.

  Let’s see how the smartass likes this.

  A bout of clumsiness hit her while she kneed and elbowed her way in. “Oops
. Sorry. Oops.” Not quite satisfied yet, she placed her hand over his face for leverage and climbed the rest of the way in. “I am sooo sorry. I don’t have a clue where this clumsiness is coming from, it is so unlike me.” For the first time, she could make light of her situation and the weight of the injustice she’d lugged with bitterness, lifted. “Must be the tumor?”

  She stared at him, needed to know if she’d gone too far, if he could handle her way of coping. When he raised his eyebrows and smiled, she slouched and returned his beautiful expression.

  “Then we must get you home now.” He arched his upper body out of the bunk. “Straight to the airport, Derek.”

  She swung at him with a closed fist, but he caught her by the wrist. “Now, now, you know I can render you helpless.”

  He glanced down at the items she entered his bunk with and raised one eyebrow up further. “Hmm, not my idea of sex toys, but we can always experiment.”

  She picked up the journal and swatted him. The bus might appear large on the outside, but the male hoots that bellowed when the hard-covered book came in contact with his bare skin, made it seem like a tiny closet.

  “Abigail’s idea. I have strict orders to write about my experiences, as well as text.” Her gaze fell to the items in her hands and a solemn stare stole her smile. “I wish they were here. I wish I could multiply myself, be with everyone.”

  He twisted to the wall behind him, and lifted a crinkled piece of paper taped in place. For many years, by its appearance. She covered her mouth to muffle the gasp when he produced, with a grin, a box of cookies from the hole hidden by the paper.

  “Cole.”

  He held up a warning finger before he whispered. “I will share with you, but if any of the gluttons find out, I will know who told them.” His smile fell. “Sometimes we all need comfort.” He over exaggerated his movements to do just that, get comfortable. “And a way to replenish our energy after a round of hot, steamy sex.”

  She smiled and accepted the treat. Never in a million years would she have pegged Cole Davies as anything other than rugged, but the sheer joy on his face as he bit into the cookie was priceless. “You’re cute.”