Suddenly he broke away and she moaned in protest. Looking into his eyes she saw a naked desire that nearly tripped her pulse. Thickened the blood rushing through her veins. The air shimmered around them with sexual undercurrents.
“I want you, Bristol.”
His words, spoken in a deep voice, stroked over her skin like a warm caress. Her breathing became as rapid as her heartbeat. And she knew at that moment that kissing wasn’t enough. Especially now that they’d been reminded of how it felt to become so enmeshed in each other. Sexual excitement curled her stomach at the memory. It wasn’t about love...at least for him it wouldn’t be. For him, it was physical desire driving what was happening between them.
She, on the contrary, was driven by deep, never-ending love.
Two different drives. One final destination.
No need to deny what she truly wanted. “I want you, too, Coop.”
As soon as the words left her lips, she was swept off her feet into strong arms and carried up the stairs.
* * *
Coop practically took the stairs two at a time with Bristol in his arms. He’d been unable to endure her form of passion any longer. Desire was clawing at his insides, making his need for her palpable. His need to make love to her was a pulsing, throbbing necessity he couldn’t fight.
Entering her room, he went straight to the bed and placed her on it. Then he stood back and began removing his clothes while watching her remove hers. She pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. He inhaled a sharp breath when he saw her breasts encased in a sexy black lace bra. Breasts his tongue had known and wanted to know again.
She unhooked the front clasp of her bra and his erection throbbed harder when the twin globes were freed. He’d always liked her breasts—their shape, size and texture. Coop was convinced if given the chance, he could devour those nipples 24/7.
He stopped taking off his own clothes just to watch Bristol finish taking off hers. He was mesmerized, captivated, so damn fascinated. When she removed her jeans, leaving herself only in undies, his erection got harder. She was wearing black panties that matched the bra.
Three words immediately came to mind. Gorgeous. Hot. Awesome.
“Is there a problem, Coop?”
Her voice snapped him back. He swallowed when he shifted his gaze to her face. “No, there isn’t a problem.”
“I was just wondering.”
He didn’t want her to wonder about anything. Especially about him being anxious to make love to her. He was convinced that somehow during those three days they’d spent together in Paris, Bristol had gotten into his blood. That had to be the reason he hadn’t been able to forget her. The reason why thinking of her had kept him sane. What other reason could there be?
He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and then pulled out a condom from his wallet. He sheathed himself, knowing she was watching. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen him do this and he didn’t intend for it to be the last.
Bristol frowned when he got closer to the bed. Her fingers touched the scars that hadn’t been there the last time they’d made love. From the look on her face he figured she knew where they’d come from. And then she did something he hadn’t expected. Something that touched him deeply.
She leaned close and showered kisses over the scars. It was as if she wanted to kiss away any pain they might have caused him. When her mouth came close to his erection, he pulled back. He didn’t want a reason to take off his condom. That was probably how she’d gotten pregnant the last time.
“I want to be inside of you, Bristol. I need it,” he whispered hoarsely, climbing on the bed to join her.
“And that’s where I want you, Coop,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Inside of me.”
* * *
Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have so openly admitted her desire. Maybe she should not have been so brutally honest. But what else could she say when the juncture of her thighs throbbed for him? When her nipples were hard? When her heart was beating fast? When every nerve in her body shrieked with excitement and anticipation? When the moment she’d kissed his scars it was as if they’d become hers?
There was still a lot they didn’t agree on and they truly needed to be downstairs talking instead of in her bedroom doing this. But then, maybe this was needed before they could have any sensible discussions. It was hard to sit down and talk like adults when said adults wanted to tear each other’s clothes off, roll on the floor in front of the fireplace and mate like rabbits.
There was nothing that could hold her back from this. From giving herself to him like she’d done three years ago. So much had happened since then, but she didn’t want to remember any of it...except for the birth of her son. That would always be a spot of joy in her life. But right now, at this instant, she wanted to be transported back in time. She wanted to experience once again how it felt when their bodies joined. When he proved to her just how much vitality he had. How much stamina.
When he showed her just how much he desired her. She could never get enough of that. His open display of need made sexual excitement curl her stomach. She felt light-headed with the effect of his masculine power.
“I plan to take this slow, Bristol.”
His words had a shock effect to her system. Slow? He had to be kidding. She was so enthusiastic she was convinced that slow would kill her.
He touched her, using his fingers to unhurriedly skim across her skin, right beneath her breasts. His fingertips elicited sensations that made parts of her tingle. Lighting her up like a flame he intended to let burn gradually before sensuously snuffing it out.
The intensity of his gaze took her breath. She wasn’t sure what emotions she saw in his penetrating look—except for one. The sexual vibes between them. They were stronger than they’d been in Paris. That was hard to believe because what they’d shared in Paris had been mind-blowing at minimum.
While his fingers were intent on driving her insane with lust, he increased her pleasure by leaning over and whispering, “I need to taste you.”
She knew what he meant. He’d already kissed her. She knew he was referring to tasting her in another way. A way she remembered so well. A way that made the throbbing between her legs intensify. The one thing she remembered about Coop was that he never did anything without telling her beforehand, to make sure she was comfortable with what he wanted to do. He was not a man who exploited a woman’s weak moments. There hadn’t been any surprises in what he did, only in the magnitude of the pleasure his actions delivered.
She nodded. He took the motion as consent. Before she could draw her next breath, he lowered his head to her chest and slid a nipple into his mouth.
She purred. Of course he would start here, knowing exactly what he was doing to her and how he was making her feel. He was well aware that he could push her into an orgasm just from his mouth devouring her breasts. He’d done it before and, from the feel of things, he intended to do it again.
Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away and looked up at her. “Did you breastfeed our son?”
His question took her by surprise. “Yes.”
He smiled as if the thought pleased him. She didn’t have the mind to ponder why when his mouth went back to her breasts. Then, as if with renewed energy, he began sucking hard. Her womb contracted with every draw of a nipple into his mouth and her purr got louder.
She needed to touch him. She slid her hands over his shoulders and down his arms before bringing them back to cup the side of his face. Tingling sensations built between her legs. She was certain she was about to be pushed over the edge when he pulled back, lifted his head and said, “Not yet. Remember what I told you. I intend to make this slow so you can remember me for a long time.”
She felt his body shift lower. Then he was touching her stomach, caressing it wit
h gentle strokes. His hands moved lower and his fingers stilled when they touched the thin line of a scar.
“Because Laramie weighed so much I had to have a C-section,” she said, explaining the bikini cut that was barely visible. Of course someone as observant as him would detect it.
He didn’t say anything, but she felt his mouth when his tongue traced a path over the scar. He was kissing her scar like she’d done for his.
The air surrounding them became even more charged. And she was suddenly filled with so many emotions she felt completely out of whack.
Then he lifted her legs to fall over his shoulders while her hips were elevated with his hands. He nudged her knees open and then as if it was the most natural thing to do, eased his face between her legs and slid his tongue inside.
He kissed her with an expertise she found utterly amazing. His tongue went deep. It was thorough. And it was excruciatingly slow. It was as if he had all the time in the world to drive her mad with desire. The more she moaned, the more he tortured her, delving deeper with powerful strokes.
Then she had to fight back a scream when her body exploded into a gigantic orgasm.
* * *
Shivers ran through Coop as the thighs encasing his face quivered. He knew what that meant but he refused to stop. In fact, he needed to keep going because her taste was more potent now. Her taste was what he’d remembered, what he’d longed for, yearned for. His shaft throbbed with an urgency he hadn’t felt since the last time he’d been with her.
He felt her tremors subside but he refused to let up. Doubted he could even if he wanted to. The taste of her juices flooded him with even more desire. When her thighs began trembling again, he knew she was reaching climax again.
When he’d seen that scar he had been filled with such profound emotion. They both had scars to show from their time apart. Hers had been a celebration of life, his had been a prologue to a death that never happened.
Those days were over. He was free and back in the land of the living. Back in Bristol’s bed. The same bed where memories had been made before. The same bed where his son was created. Same bed, same woman.
He couldn’t get enough.
* * *
When the last of the spasms wore off, Bristol wondered how she’d had mulitple orgasms so close together. Had she been that needy? That greedy? That hard up for sex?
If she’d just wanted sex she would have dated Steven, or any of the other men who’d hit on her over the years. But none of them had enticed her to open herself up this way. To invite them to her bed. To tell them she wanted them inside her. Only with Coop could she behave so boldly. And she knew why.
She was still in love with him.
Coop smiled down at her as his body straddled hers. Surely he didn’t think she had the energy for another round of anything. Especially intercourse of the most intense kind. She was so tired she would probably fall asleep in the middle. But then she’d had two orgasms in less than twenty minutes. She owed him something and would fake it if she had to. He deserved his pleasure, as well.
She’d only faked it for one guy, her first time in high school. With Coop she’d never needed to fake a thing. He’d kept her blood pumping. Kept the primal attraction between them so real that she’d been ready whenever he’d been ready. She’d even been tempted to wake him up for more. But not this time. There was no way her body could endure another orgasm tonight. But for him, she would pretend.
“You’re not about to go to sleep on me, are you?” he asked her, staring down at her.
She looked into his eyes and her body warmed under his intense regard. She lowered her gaze to his lips. Lips that were wet with her juices. Why did that cause a deep stirring in the pit of her stomach? Maybe it was because she recalled how his tongue had lapped her into consecutive orgasms.
“Ready to taste yourself?” he asked in a low whisper.
Blood rushed through her veins. He’d never asked her anything like that before. Taste herself? She knew how he would do it and imagining it aroused her enough that a low moan escaped her lips.
“Is that a yes?”
A sensual force seemed to overtake her. Where was his sexual aura coming from? Hadn’t she thought of faking it just a minute ago? Now he was arousing her all over again with mere words. Laramie Cooper was too compelling for his own good. Definitely too sexy.
She should have known she couldn’t fake anything with him because he had the ability to turn her on, even when she thought such a thing wasn’t possible.
“Yes,” she said.
Then he lowered his mouth to hers. The moment their lips touched, every hormone in her body crackled. She knew it was more than their combined tastes driving her over the edge. It was the masterful way his tongue dominated her mouth.
Her nerves did a pirouette, her brain sprinted and her stomach flipped.
He ended the kiss and looked down at her in a way that made moisture gather between her thighs. “You’re ready for me again, Bristol?”
Yes, she was ready, even when she’d thought earlier there was no way she could go another round. Not only could she go, she intended to participate to the fullest and there wouldn’t be anything fake about it. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Her legs opened automatically, as if her body needed what he was giving. It had been three years since she’d done this and the last time had been with him. She slipped her arms around his neck and felt the large length of his erection touching her feminine mound.
Then he eased inside, inch by inch. His fullness encompassed her as he went deeper, filling her to the hilt. Her body stretched to accommodate him.
“You okay?”
She looked up and met his gaze. “Yes, I’m okay.”
And honestly, she was. It was like a homecoming. The man she’d thought lost to her forever, the man she’d believed would never make love to her again, was doing just that. It was more than she could have hoped for.
“Thank you for my son,” he whispered hoarsely.
And then he began moving while still holding her gaze, as if daring her to look away. She stared into his eyes while his body thrust inside her with a rhythm that released a sensual throb of desire in her veins. The sinfully erotic movement of his hips drew everything out of her, while at the same time demanding that she take as much of him as she could. Each hard thrust made her moan.
He kept moving at an unhurried pace, as if he wanted her to feel every single stroke. And she did. They were a perfect fit. She felt intense pleasure all the way to her bones. The undercurrent flowing between them was explosive, hot with passion of the most mind-blowing kind.
Her body moved with his. Her inner muscles tightened around him. Together they were creating a sensual heat like she’d never felt before...not even the last time. She’d thought nothing could be more powerful than what they’d already shared. Bristol was proven wrong.
Then he increased his pace, refined his strokes and pumped into her with a vigor that made her entire body respond. She exploded the same time he did, and he covered her mouth to keep the scream from her lips.
They seemed to flow into each other. Her hips were connected to his. Their bodies were perfectly aligned as they experienced the throes of ecstasy together. When he finally released her mouth, she drew in a deep breath and clung to his shoulders. They rode the waves of pleasure together.
Moments later, he rolled off her and gathered her in his arms. His thumb stroked her cheeks. The last thing Bristol remembered before sleep overtook her was whispering his name.
Fifteen
Coop wasn’t sure what awakened him, but he jerked upright in bed and glanced around before remembering where he was. Bristol’s bed. He drew in a deep breath and rubbed his hand down his face before looking at the clock. It was three in the morning. The spot beside him was empty. He’d
been sleeping so soundly that he hadn’t noticed when Bristol got out of bed.
Where was she? He lay back down thinking she was probably in the bathroom. A few minutes later, when she hadn’t returned, he got up and checked. She wasn’t there. Had she gone to see about Laramie? Coop pulled on his jeans and left the bedroom to go to his son’s room. He found his son sleeping, but Bristol wasn’t there, either.
He was about to head downstairs when he heard a noise coming from the attic. He knew from playing hide-and-seek with Laramie that she’d converted the attic into her studio and that was where she did most of her painting. Was she painting this time of morning?
Coop walked up the six steps and found the door open. And there she was, standing in front of an easel. Was she wearing anything under that artist’s cape? It was short and hit her at midthigh, which gave him a good view of her legs. She had a nice pair and like him, she was in her bare feet. He watched the look of concentration on her face. Her full attention was on whatever she was painting. Considering what they’d done tonight she should be exhausted. Obviously, she had a lot of energy.
She hadn’t noticed him and he decided not to disturb her. Coop took in the room. It was huge. There were several built-in cabinets for her supplies. There was also a love seat, as well as a sink and counter that he figured she used as a cleanup station. The room had only one small window and he figured she wanted the least distractions possible while painting.
Coop was about to leave when he noticed several framed photographs on the wall. One was a photo of her and an older man. They favored each other and he figured the man was her father. He studied the man’s features and tried to recall why he seemed so familiar.
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