Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle)

by Gennifer Albin

  The bathroom door opened as though on cue, like he’d heard me thinking about him, and then shut behind him. He pulled the sliding door open a couple of inches and let his gaze wander down my slick skin, heating me with desire in the process.

  Cole reached out a hand and cupped my breast, letting his thumb tease my nipple in the slippery soap while his eyes darkened and his shorts tightened across the front.

  I moved closer, careful not to jostle the contact I was enjoying immensely, and pulled his mouth to mine. We kissed, my tongue tasting him and my body soaking through the front of his white swimming T-shirt. His hands worked harder, pinching and brushing until I moaned into his mouth, the tingling heat between my legs unbearable.

  “Get in here.”

  I pulled him in without letting him get naked first, unwilling to let his lips leave mine for that long. The feeling of his chest through the wet cotton, pressed against my bare skin, delighted me. We managed to struggle his shirt loose a few minutes later. Shampoo dripped onto my forehead and I stepped back into the water and tipped my head back, anxious to get clean and into bed now.

  Cole’s fingers ran up my neck and into my hair, gently massaging the suds out but coating us both with soap in the process. My fingers found the button on his shorts and pushed them and his underwear out of the way, then wrapped around his hard length. It filled my hand as easily as it filled the rest of me, and I spent a few moments repaying him for the teasing caresses he’d heaped upon me moments ago.

  He groaned, tipping my lips up to his and devouring my mouth, his tongue stroking mine with increased impatience. I redoubled the efforts with my hands, enjoying the feeling of control and my ability to drive him as crazy as he drove me.

  “I want to just bend you over right here,” he growled into my lips.

  If anything about Cole had surprised me, it had been his confidence in bed, at least after that first time. For a guy hesitant to fall between the sheets, once there Cole knew what he wanted, when to take control, and how far to push without making things uncomfortable. The sex was surprisingly uninhibited and animalistic, and neither of us had ended up feeling awkward, even after a couple of particularly wild sessions this past week.

  I loved it. It was everything I’d ever wanted in a relationship, and like Cole had said, we just seemed to have some kind of connection that made often uncomfortable moments into everyday occurrences.

  Until now, we’d used condoms every single time, though there had been one morning where we’d basically woken up having sex and had to stop to get one. I knew we should stop, dry off, and take it into the bedroom, but I didn’t want to.

  I pushed him backward until one of the benches hit his knees and he sat down, then turned my back to him. His hands squeezed my hips, guiding me down on top of him until I sat on his lap, his hardness buried inside me. He ground against me, his lips trailing kisses along my neck.

  “We can get out and get protection.” His voice shook and I felt him shudder under me.

  He didn’t want to move any more than I did—this felt amazing. I turned my head so that we could make eye contact, so he would know how sure I felt of him and us right now. He would never hurt me. If he was worried about my safety, he would stop.

  “I trust you, Cole.”

  Happiness flooded his face and his arms went around my waist. Water poured over us as our bodies slipped together. The tiled floor gave my toes enough traction to move up and down, against his movements, as he thrust into me with building intensity. His hands wandered up and squeezed my breasts gently, and we moved together at a lazy pace until both of us tired of gentle and steady.

  He pushed me to my feet and we traded places, my hands on the bench and him plunging into me from behind, his hands tight on my hips. It amazed me how taken care of I felt in that moment—even getting fucked bent over in a shower, Cole wouldn’t let me fall. I wouldn’t get hurt.

  If only it were as easy to trust him with the idea of the future.

  An orgasm built, starting in my belly and trembling lower. Cole moved one hand between my legs and worked his fingers until my legs shook and buckled, until I came, clenching around him and crying out as those waves I’d come to anticipate pounded me senseless for so long I thought I’d shatter.

  Cole finished with his arms around me, holding our sweating, sopping bodies tight together while he whispered my name into the back of my neck in a way that made me desperate to repeat this moment over and over again to see if it ever lost its power over me.

  The juxtaposition of rawness against tenderness still undid me at times; the idea that sex could be fun and energetic but still include unexpectedly strong feelings knocked me off balance.

  He spun me around and slid his arms around my waist, lifting my lips to his and kissing me as though this entire thing was a fragile piece of crystal he wanted to wrap in paper and keep safe. Then he laid his trembling forehead against mine.

  “I am crazy about you.”

  “Because of the shower sex?” I teased, trying to ease away from the serious scrape of his voice.

  “Because of all the sex, and because of your talent and your fire, the way you’re brave even when you don’t think so, but mostly because of the way I felt when you looked into my eyes and said you trust me.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

  His confession flooded me with happiness more sharp-edged than I’d ever felt, but under that, a cold trickle of fear caught my attention. It took until we’d turned off the water, dried off, and slipped naked into bed before I could put my finger on exactly what scared me.

  It sounded almost like he’d been worried about earning my trust, which made sense.

  And it sounded a little bit like he was scared, too. Like maybe he didn’t think he deserved it.

  ***

  An hour later, I’d finished my homework for the week and done the few things with the website that still required my attention. Cole hadn’t mentioned it again but I hadn’t done anything about his poor ratings. Partly because I thought people would know it was me if I did, and partly because I didn’t want any other girl to decide he’d be worth stealing.

  Cole sat in an overstuffed chair in the corner, his bare feet propped on an ottoman and his brow furrowed at whatever he was reading on his laptop. He’d been working on finance homework, and the room had been draped in companionable silence for most of the hour. I’d lost track of time but had managed to catch up on everything that had been slid to the back burner during the length of my ongoing new relationship honeymoon period.

  The desire to ask him again what had changed four years ago, why he’d turned down every girl he’d dated at Whitman, pricked. The longer he kept his secret, the more my curiosity rose, but pushing him had backfired before and the idea of shoving a wedge in between what was working so well made my heart speed up for a different reason.

  I pushed the uncomfortable feeling aside and pulled out my copy of Annie Get Your Gun, which was the next Whitman U play, and thumbed through to pick an audition scene. We needed one to monologue and one to perform with a partner. At least it wouldn’t be Liam. Hopefully not Hunter, either, though it was a distinct possibility. He’d actually be a wonderful Frank Butler, but kissing him didn’t appeal to me. Maybe I could bite him on Opening Night and watch him try to recover from that in front of a packed house.

  The monologue was easy to pick, and one I loved—the beginning before Annie started to lose herself to show business and fancy dresses. I ran it several times, mouthing the words silently, not wanting to disturb Cole. It was funny; I actually had more in common with the ladies’ man Frank Butler. He hadn’t been looking for a relationship at all when Annie had fallen into his lap, and especially had never thought he’d fall in love with a girl like her.

  I didn’t think I loved Cole, but he’d certainly taken me by surprise. He was everything I hadn’t been looking for, yet, it seemed, everything I wanted.

  The feeling of being watched jerked my gaze up, and I found Cole
staring at me with a small smile. When I caught him it stretched wider, his dimples flashing.

  “What are you staring at, perv?”

  “The prettiest girl in the house.”

  “I’m the only girl in the house, since Lily dumped your brother.”

  “What are you working on?”

  “Trying to work out a partnered scene for my audition.”

  “Want some help trying them out?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You want to be my Frank Butler?”

  “And your Tony, and your Romeo and your Fiyero and so on and on.”

  “How many times have you gotten your ass kicked for loving theatre so much?”

  “I can hold my own.”

  I grinned. The fact that Cole adored theatre as much as I did endeared him to me, and the fact that he had a swimmer’s body and the countenance to match meant he didn’t get messed with too often. He might think me a strange contradiction of soft and prickly, but he was a different type of guy, too. Soft and hard. Confident and shy. Blunt but secretive.

  I shook the last one off and nodded. “Sure. I’m thinking the best duet is ‘They Say It’s Wonderful.’ ”

  “I agree. It’s the moment Annie realizes she’s changed, and the moment Frank realizes he loves her even if she never does.” He stood and put the computer in the chair, coming to sit next to me on the bed. “Where do you want to start?”

  “Get ready for the real Louisiana accent.” Discomfort itched my palms, maybe born of habit more than anything.

  Cole reached out a hand and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “I’ve been waiting for that to peek out for days. I get little hints when you get really excited. It’s adorable.”

  “If you say so. Okay.” I stood and handed over the script. I thought I could do it without the words. “You start with the line about Annie being your girl.”

  He cleared his throat and stood too, staying within arm’s reach but not touching me. “Now, that’s my girl.”

  I spun toward him, widening my eyes and forcing an innocent look into them I hadn’t had in years. “Frank! That’s the second time you’ve said that!”

  Cole smiled and I turned away, pacing a little to convey Annie’s agitation. “Frank, I ain’t been feelin’ well lately. I ain’t been hungry, and I’m always hungry. I’ve been starin’ at the moon a lot. Is that what it means to be in love?”

  “Oh, Annie, ain’t you ever been in love before?” His horrible accent mixed with Scottish brogue almost made me giggle, but I recovered.

  “Oh, sure, dozens of times.”

  “I mean with someone who loved you back,” he said more softly, moving close enough for me to feel his warmth.

  My heart pounded. I knew now that I hadn’t ever been in love. I’d never felt the way I did in Cole’s arms, or when I saw him waiting for me after class, or just the way being with him made me feel worthy of my own skin. “Oh. Well…I guess not. But I hear tell all about it.”

  I launched into the song about the horrible wonders of falling in love, moving toward Cole and then away, like a girl scared of what drew her in but still sucked toward the source of those feelings like she couldn’t help it.

  All of the sudden, I felt more of a kinship with Annie than I expected.

  Cole’s eyes drank in my face while I sang, smiling when appropriate but mostly fixed with a raw, unexpected hunger that didn’t look sexual for once.

  He took the lead in the song when Frank’s part of the duet began, and his voice was so horrible that I did start laughing. It only encouraged him, until he was belting the song in the most off-key rendition I’d ever heard.

  The door rattled in its frame under someone’s fist. “Cole! You’re waking up all the dogs in the neighborhood. Shut up!” One of the twins stomped off without opening the door, probably because he wasn’t sure we were dressed.

  I calmed down in time to take the lead back from Cole, who looked at me smugly, as though he’d just delivered a killer solo.

  The song broke again and I went on about how Frank had to come and watch me perform that night. “When you see me out there and the music’s playin’ and the lights are on me, you’re gonna…you’re gonna….”

  “What am I gonna?” Cole asked with a laugh, the intensity in his eyes drying my mouth.

  “Oh, bust your buttons! And then, just like at the end of a fairytale, you’re going to be so dag gern proud of me that you’re goin’ to ask me to do somethin’ and be someone and I’m only tellin’ you in advance that I’m gonna to do it and I’m gonna be it.”

  He moved forward, offering to do it in advance, but I pushed him away, telling him he’d ruin the plan. But when Cole—Frank—moved toward the door, I called him back. “Frank. Do you think you could touch me? For luck?”

  He turned back, grabbing my hands and yanking me into his chest, planting a big cheesy kiss on my lips. The scene ended for Annie right there, but Cole pulled back, his eyes sparkling, and delivered the last line of the scene.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The rest of November passed in a blur of happiness. I auditioned for the play, which would open the week we returned to school in January, and landed the part of Annie. Cole and I spent most of our time alone, but attended the Greek functions for both our houses and hung out with Emilie and Quinn three or four more times.

  It felt as though I floated through everything—classes, DE responsibilities, acting—and little by little, night by night, dimpled smile by dimpled smile, I began to believe this was for real.

  That I would wake up next to Cole, feel desire shoot through me with a glance or a gentle touch, and know he’d be waiting to spend time with me, for a long time.

  Christmas break loomed large at the end of our sex-hazy tunnel, though. Finals were next week, then Cole would return to Scotland for almost a month, and I’d go home to New Orleans. Emilie and Quinn planned to visit for New Year’s, and that would be fun, but it hadn’t escaped my attention that Cole hadn’t even entertained the idea of asking me to come home with him.

  The logical part of my brain knew we weren’t there. We were stupid happy and the sex regularly blew my mind, but we didn’t talk much about the future. I’d avoided Audra altogether and had managed to only see the twins in passing, even though I spent more nights at their house than I didn’t. I knew Cole wanted us to hang out with them more, but I wasn’t ready to burst the perfect bubble we lived in—wasn’t ready to face their obvious distaste for our relationship.

  It shouldn’t bother me. Everything was great; we didn’t need to spend the holidays together two months after we’d started dating seriously. The Ruby who went out with Liam last August would laugh at the girl I’d become—a girl who craved assurances of a future.

  One day at a time, I lectured silently.

  My Thursday started earlier than Cole’s, and he looked so handsome burrowed under the covers that I couldn’t bear to wake him, even though he’d probably end up enjoying it. Instead, I eased from under the blankets and grabbed his dress shirt from where he’d flung it over a chair the night before and slipped it over my head. It fell almost to my knees and I trudged to the kitchen in search of coffee.

  The sight of Lawren’s back half sticking out of the fridge surprised me—the twins were late sleepers and, from what I could tell, graduate school mostly meant being buried in the library doing independent study.

  “Oh.”

  “Good morning, Ruby.” He grinned at me, the smile a little hesitant but not mean. “Coffee?”

  I nodded and reached for the cup he offered, then dumped in some hazelnut creamer and stirred. I wanted to retreat to the bedroom, but felt awkward about running away. My instincts were always to stand toe-to-toe with the people and situations that made me uncomfortable, Cole having been the exception. If things were going to continue with the two of us, I couldn’t hide from his family forever.

  Lawren looked mildly astonished when I sat down at the r
ound oak table and sipped the steaming liquid.

  “What? Do I look that terrible at six-thirty in the morning?”

  “You look a hell of a lot better than ninety percent of the world at six-thirty in the morning. I am insanely jealous of my brother and have told him so on many occasions. Especially after I’ve lain awake half the night listening to furniture scraping the floor and noises that sound only vaguely human vibrating the walls.” He grinned when my face heated up.

  I tried to glare at him, but ended up smiling instead. “Perv.”

  “Proud of it.” He paused to sip his own coffee, his Stuart green eyes peering at me over the rim of the mug. “All joking aside, I’m happy for my baby brother. He’s spent too much time acting as though one mistake requires a lifetime of penance. It was time he found a lass he could let into his pain, you know? I told him after the first time I met you that you’d be different.”

  Cold fingers wrapped around the back of my neck. Law obviously thought Cole had told me about his past, about whatever had happened that had turned him into the laughingstock of my website. He hadn’t, and what kind of mistake could be bad enough to cause him pain?

  I should have dropped it, let Cole tell me the truth when he was ready. It hurt that he hadn’t already—after I’d found a way to trust him enough to dream about a future, he hadn’t trusted me enough to share his past.

  So, I let Lawren think I knew.

  “Cole’s a good guy,” I replied, trying for a response that would keep him talking. “He deserves to be happy.”

  “Yes. We all told him that he’s not responsible for Poppy’s decisions over and over again, even if he did handle their situation badly, she’s the one who made the call that led to her death, not him.”

  The ice on the back of my neck soaked into my blood and slid into my stomach. I shivered in the kitchen, suddenly aware of my state of undress, and wrapped frozen fingers around the mug of coffee. Cole felt responsible for a girl’s death—what had he done?