He meant to take this slow, but his restraint was quickly slipping. “Watch your head,” he warned, slipping his hands beneath her bottom and boosting her to the top of the narrow mattress. The damn bed was so small Cole was hard-pressed to get up again. A dilemma he quickly solved. His top lip curled in a wicked grin as he hooked the thin elastic straps stretching over her hips and tore her panties free with a sharp tug.
Katie’s surprised gasp melted into moans when his fingers swept over the petals of her moist flesh. As self-consciousness gave way to passion, she eased her legs wider, opening herself to him like a slow blossoming flower. Unable to resist, he slipped a finger inside her. Her half-lidded gaze widened in surprise, locking on his, a bit apprehensive and a whole lot curious. “You are utterly captivating,” he crooned, mesmerized by her beauty. Adding a finger, he pushed in further, stretching her tight little glove and seating his palm firmly against her clit.
She gasped, a brief pinch of discomfort crossing her face, but the pressure of his palm quickly drown out the pain. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but he had to do it. If she couldn’t take his touch, she’d never be able to handle his cock. “Shit, Kat, I could come just touching you.”
His thumb found the bundle of nerves at the hood of her sex. After a few circular swipes and coaxing strokes of his fingers, Katie began to melt. The muscles in her core relaxed and she began to rock her hips against his rhythm. Her pupils dilated, her lids growing heavy with pleasure. Holy hell, she’s going to come . . .
He’d barely touched her and already the early tremors of her impending release were beginning to grip his fingers. Cole couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman so . . . responsive, so . . . fucking hot! He was tempted to palm his throbbing flesh and take his own release while he wrung Katie’s from her lithe little body. Better yet, he’d love to feel her tiny fist milking him as she chased after her orgasm. Tension began to build in the base of his spine, warning him he was running out of time, but Cole wasn’t ready for this to end.
“Do not come,” he warned her through gritted teeth.
“Then . . . you’d . . . better stop . . . touching me,” she panted. “Make love to me, Cole.”
Her pleading request unraveled him. It took his last bit of control to pull his hand away and her moan of protest nearly sent him over the edge. “Hang on, sweetheart.” By the time he seated himself against her hot, wet core, Cole was out of his fucking mind with want. Protection was a trailing afterthought. If it weren’t a habit ingrained in him since adolescence, he probably wouldn’t have said anything at all, but his conscience told him to warn her before things got any further out of hand. It was the responsible thing to do, and he respected the hell out of this woman. He didn’t want her having any regrets.
“Hurry . . .” she pleaded, wiggling beneath him, inching herself closer.
“Kat, wait,” he whispered against her lips, grabbing her hips to keep her still before he said fuck it and dove right into her hot little cunny—consequences be damned. “I don’t have a condom.” Fuck, this was embarrassing, of all the things to forget to pack.
“It’s okay,” she said between kisses. “I’m covered.”
There was no chance of her being at risk. He never—ever—had unprotected sex. In fact, this would be the first time he’d ever been skin on skin with a woman, and the thought of it being with Katie, sharing that level of intimacy with her, was a huge fucking step for him.
She fisted her hands into his hair and pulled him close. Her scorching kiss shot straight into the base of his cock. The impatient member bucked against her satiny flesh, pulling a tortured groan from his throat. She responded with a wanton moan that lit up every one of his nerve endings. Shimmying beneath him, she pressed him past her outer folds and against her tight little opening. Katie’s mouth was on his neck. Kissing. Sucking. Biting, as she whispered, “I know you wouldn’t, Cole. It’s all right. I trust you.”
Her confidence in him sent a pang of doubt needling his conscience. Damn, he didn’t want to fuck this up. Was that why he hesitated to push forward? Was he actually . . . nervous?—a completely foreign and unwelcome sensation, that. But something she’d said a few minutes ago kept replaying in his mind on an endless loop. Make love to me . . . Was that what she was expecting? Gentle touches? Ardent kisses? That wasn’t him. At least it never had been . . . What if he wasn’t what she’d been expecting? What if he disappointed her?
Fuck, he didn’t know the first thing about making love to a woman, and if that was Katie’s expectation . . . Now, if she’d said Fuck me blind, he was her guy. But knowing her past, and the courage it took for her to give herself to him . . . Damn, he didn’t want to mess this up—or scare her. He’d told her he wouldn’t handle her with kid gloves, but that was exactly what he was doing now. And since when did he have performance anxiety?—never, that’s when. But Kat was different. She meant something to him. She wasn’t some horny cage banger, and he highly doubted she’d appreciate being rutted like one.
Katie’s mouth stalled on his neck, her exhaled breath hot against skin left damp from her teasing tongue. She tensed beneath him. “Is something wrong?” she asked, uncertainty hedging in her voice. Before he could deny it, she said, “If you’re having second thoughts . . .”
What? Oh, hell no . . . Pushing aside his sudden attack of conscience, Cole gave her a wicked grin and bent his head, growling against her kiss-swollen lips, “Not a chance, sweetheart.”
Cole crushed his mouth to her parted lips, his tongue sweeping possessively against hers as he pushed his hips forward, stretching her to accommodate his unyielding girth. The mixture of pain and pleasure made her gasp, drawing his breath into her lungs, the exotic entanglement dragging her deeper under his spell. Power and strength radiated from this man like a current of energy, crackling over her flesh everywhere their bodies touched, all centering at their point of intimate connection.
Inch by inch, he consumed her, each thrust bringing him closer to that aching point of contact deep inside her. Cole’s jaw clenched tight, a fine sheen of sweat dampening his back, conveying his restraint as he eased into her. The heady sensation of being filled by this powerful man was intoxicating.
She’d been preparing herself for that trapped, panicked feeling to rise up inside her as memories struggled to invade her conscious. What she hadn’t been prepared for was the jolt of awareness, the connectivity that pierced her heart when Cole’s burning gaze locked and held hers. Time may have stopped, her heart certainly did, when he rasped in a voice raw with emotion she feared to name, “How ya doing, sweetheart? You with me?”
Oh, she was with him all right. She hadn’t thought it possible, pinned beneath two hundred pounds of rock-hard muscle, but the fight-or-flight instinct she’d been expecting to battle didn’t come. Somehow, Cole had managed to wholly consume her, banishing all thought, all memories, from her mind. Unable to force words past her emotion-clogged throat, she held his gaze and nodded. He smiled down at her, a grin of pure male satisfaction that sent a tremor of need rioting through that elusive spot deep inside her—the spot he drew achingly close to, but seemed for some reason hesitant to hit.
Cole was an impressively large man—everywhere—so she knew the lack of contact was deliberate as he withdrew and pushed forward with aching, frustrating restraint. She wanted him deeper—harder. What was he waiting for?
And then the answer suddenly occurred to her as she watched him grapple for control. He was struggling to rein in his passion—for her. He was fighting against his base instinct to fully claim her. Katie wasn’t sure whether to be touched by his efforts or scream in frustration because he was doing the one thing he’d vowed not to do—treat her like she was broken.
She wanted Cole, the real Cole, untethered and 100 percent in-it-to-win-it. It was how he lived his life, and she had no doubt it was how he took his pleasure—raw and undone. Perhaps it was time she earned her nickname, and put the limit of Cole’s re
straint to the test. The thought that she, a woman almost half his size, might break this rock of a man was too great a temptation to resist.
Slowly, she dragged her nails down Cole’s back, following the narrowing taper to the muscular curve of his ass. Holding him firm, nails biting into his flesh, she arched into him, taking him deeper. She grasped at the stretch that was now more pleasure than pain. His brow arched in question, in silent warning that she was pushing her luck and might be getting in over her head. To this point he’d held her tenderly, cradled in his powerful arms. His kisses were languorous and gentle, his movements purposeful and controlled. He felt amazing—but this wasn’t him.
He dipped his head and kissed the sensitive spot below her ear. When she arched into his measured thrust, claiming ground he’d refused to cede to her, he bit her neck. She gasped in surprise, finding she enjoyed the teasing sting that shot darts of pleasure between her legs.
“Tell me what you want, Kat.”
She was pretty sure he knew exactly what she wanted. But for some reason he wanted to hear her say it. By now she had no shame. Cole had worked her into a frenzied mess. If he wanted her to beg, she’d beg. “I want you . . . deeper,” she panted, the wicked confession burning on her lips. She’d never spoken so boldly.
“Like this?” Gripping her shoulders and anchoring her to him, he plunged deep inside her, burying himself to the hilt.
She almost came right then and there when he connected with her core. The fullness was excruciating bliss that tore a raptured cry from her throat.
“Fuuuck,” Cole groaned a tortured growl, pulling back far enough to surge into her again.
His muscles strained beneath her fingertips and she knew he was fighting the same losing battle that she was. As much as she’d have loved for this to last all night, the tension coiling inside her was threatening to shatter. “Yes,” she panted when he hit that secret spot again . . . and again . . . and again.
Just as she’d thought, Cole was as much a force to be reckoned with in bed as he was in the ring. He’d taken time to study his opponent—he knew all her weaknesses and used them to his advantage, exposing her for the shameless wanton she secretly was. He knew right where to touch her, how to exact the maximum amount of pleasure from a body that no longer belonged to her but to the fighter masterfully controlling her every desire. It seemed ironic that a man who specialized in giving so much pain could deliver such pleasure with the same seamless efficiency. Cole knew her body better than she did—what she wanted—what she needed—and he seemed to love making her beg for it.
But with her final plea, something inside him snapped. Playtime was over. His tempo increased, working them both into a fevered frenzy. The pressure was incredible . . . building until she didn’t think she could stand another moment of the erotic torture of his hands, his mouth, his cock driving inside her . . .
And then she shattered—a strangled cry tearing from her throat as euphoric waves crashed over her, dragging her under. Her channel spasmed against him as he drove into her one final time. With a primal growl of release, heat pulsed against her core, prolonging the blissful shockwaves ripping through her body.
As the last tremors ebbed, Cole collapsed on top of her, giving her the brunt of his weight. She could feel his heart hammering against her breast, the rapid sawing of his breaths tickling the sweat-dampened flesh of her neck. All too soon, her mind started to clear and reality began vying for its place in her thoughts. What did this mean for them now? How would this affect their working relationship?—their friendship? But the biggest question weighing on her mind right now was what did this mean to Cole?—the guy who’d had countless one-night stands, and professed he’d never been in love.
She’d been a fool to think she could compartmentalize sex with this man. She’d never been a “friends with benefits” kind of woman, so what in the hell had made her think she could start now? Cole had not only touched the deepest places inside her, he’d touched her very soul, and the tenderness she felt for him, the gratitude, was an unexpected and wholly unwelcomed complication. Her heart stuttered and skipped a beat as the realization suddenly hit her full force. God help me, I’m in love with Cole Easton . . .
Katie woke to the worst foot cramp—ever! Hissing in a sharp breath, she tried to bolt upright, grabbing for her foot, but couldn’t move. Cole’s arm was wrapped around her chest, his leg draped over her as he held her tight against his body. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” she chanted, struggling to get out from under him.
Cole startled awake and flew upright, connecting with the bunk above him. “Son of a bitch!” he growled.
She would have laughed if her foot didn’t hurt so damn bad. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” She reached for her foot but couldn’t get to it beneath the tangle of covers.
“What’s wrong?” Cole demanded, his eyes dragging over her—searching for injury.
“It’s my foot! I have a horrible cramp!”
“Which one?” he asked, yanking the bottom of their covers loose.
“My left!”
He grabbed her foot.
“My other left!” she cried, not realizing her legs were crossed.
Cole pulled her leg onto his lap, grabbed her toes and pointed them toward her shin, stretching out her tendons. After a few more seconds and a lot more whimpering, the sharp cramping pain began to ease. Taking a deep breath, she flopped back on her pillow, completely uncaring she left the covers pooled at her waist. “Oh . . .” she sighed dramatically. “That’s better.” Cole released her toes and put the pads of his thumbs into the bottom of her foot, gently stretching and stripping her arch. It felt amazing. His touch had the skill and feel of an athlete who’d been-there-done-that and knew his anatomy well. He quickly loosened the muscles in her foot before working up her calf.
“You’re dehydrated. You didn’t drink enough water yesterday and drank too much brandy last night,” he scolded. Which was definitely not helping right now.
A wicked thought came over her and she impulsively acted on it. “Oh, my head is killing me.” No lie, it really was. Lifting her head she looked down at her naked breasts, then over at Cole, and then back at her chest. “Did we?” He tensed. His hands froze on her leg, his grip tightening ever so slightly as his expression took a note of alarm. “You know. Did we umm . . . ?”
“You don’t remember?” he growled. “I fucking knew it!” Cole jacked his hand through his hair, looking like he was about to be sick.
Unable to carry out the ruse, she busted out laughing. Knowing he’d been had, Cole gave her a mock glare and growled, “Think it’s funny, huh?” With the speed that made him such a formable striker, Cole dove on top of her, pinned her to the mattress, and began tickling her. “Stop it!” she cried, laughing harder. She’d never seen this side of Cole—so carefree and playful—she loved it!
“Not until you tap.”
“That’s cruel! Tickling a girl who has to pee!” she squealed between fits of laughter, fighting to get out from under him, and making no progress.
“So is pretending you don’t remember the best sex of this guy’s life.”
“So is giving a girl a sobriety test before sleeping with her!” Wait. What did he just say? Best sex of his life? Seriously?
Cole stopped tickling her and turned serious, shifting his weight so he could see her better. “Hey, there’ve been a few times I wish someone would have given me a sobriety test. Would have saved me a lot of trouble and a whole hell of a lot of regret.”
“You thought I would regret this?”
“I hoped not. But you’ve worked pretty hard at pushing me away. Not that I haven’t done my share of avoiding you these past few weeks myself.”
“What changed?”
He shrugged. “I guess I finally hit my breaking point. What changed for you? And if you say the brandy, be warned the tickling will wholeheartedly resume.”
“Well, that would be to your own detriment, because I wasn’t kidding when I said I had to pee.” Seri
ously, could she stall anymore? What could she say? I realized that I love you? Yeah, not going to happen. She was not going to drop the L-bomb on a guy who (a) probably had panty-dropping cage bangers throwing that word at him all the time, and (b) professed just a few short weeks ago never to have been in love. Besides, he had the perfect opportunity to tell her if that had changed, and “I guess I finally hit my breaking point” just didn’t cut it.
“Umm . . . can we talk about this when I get back from the johnny? I really gotta go.” So yep, she was a big fricking coward. A hint of disappointment wrinkled his brows, but after another brief moment, he relented, rolling to the side and allowing her to escape. Katie slipped out from underneath him and scrambled to get dressed under the weight of Cole’s bold, unapologetic stare. Snagging her bra off the floor, Katie wrestled it on, shoving her arms through the straps and stuffing her boobs inside the fragile lace cups.
Feeling the heat of Cole’s eyes boring into her, she cast him a quick glance and felt her heart skip at his pure, masculine beauty. Sprawled on his back across a bed about two sizes too small, Cole watched her, enjoying the show with his arms up, hands laced behind his head, and a cocky grin spread across his handsome face.
“Enjoying the show?”
“Immensely . . .”
She didn’t need to ask. By the size of his manhood proudly on display, he was having a grand ol’ time of it. Pulling her sweater on, she stood there a moment, turning around to search. “Where’s my underwear?” He cocked his brow and gave her a shit-eating grin. And then she remembered. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. You owe me a new pair of panties, mister. That was my favorite set.”
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