Dotted Line

by Elise Faber

  Which reminded me.

  I wanted something else that was along that variety.

  Sliding backward, I moved down his chest, straddling his waist as I leaned forward to nip at his lips. I got a taste of myself mingled with mint and cinnamon for my trouble, and it was fucking hot, those flavors bursting to life on my tongue. But while kissing Cole was incredible, I wanted more.

  And that more was going to be in the form of his hard cock in my mouth.

  Then in my pussy.

  I flicked open the button on his jeans.

  Fingers laced with mine, staying me from lowering the zipper. I glared up at him. “If this is your play to make some noble bullshit move to protect my feelings in order to stop me from getting my mouth on you, you’re a fucking idiot,” I snapped. “I’m a big girl, Cole, and I want to suck your cock.”

  His hips lurched up. “Not trying to stop you from putting your mouth on me, honey,” he said. “But I figured you need to know the bad news that I don’t have a condom before we go any further.”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  I grinned as I batted his hands away. “I’ve got good news, baby.” An alarm blared in the deepest recesses of my mind, knowing I’d never used an endearment like that with a man before, knowing that the fact I had with Cole was important, that this thing with him was more important than me just telling myself I’d finally taken the plunge and explored my long-held attraction.

  It was more than sexual chemistry.

  But luckily in that moment, my conscious mind was on the back burner, and my more primitive one was in control.

  I freed his cock from his boxer briefs and wrapped my hand around the hard length of him. Then I bent and ran my tongue from base to tip, loving the way he got harder, the litany of harsh curses that were torn out of his mouth. “I’m on the birth control implant,” I murmured before sucking him in deep.

  He groaned, hips shooting up again. “Don’t know what that means.”

  “It means”—I took him deep again then released him with a soft pop—“that I can’t get pregnant for three years after having it.”

  “Please, tell me you’re within those three years.”

  I swirled my tongue around the head. “Yup. And I’m clean, baby. Just got tested and haven’t slept with anyone else in months.” I blew out a breath, letting my lips brush the tip of him, teasing him by letting him in just the slightest bit.

  Cole’s hands tangled in my hair, tugging me off his cock, and the restraint I felt in the way he held me still even though I could tell he wanted to yank my head up and down his cock, had my thighs squeezing together. “Never slept with anyone without a condom, honey. Not once.” My breath caught, my heart leaping with joy that I was about to give him something he’d never had before. “And I was tested six months ago. Haven’t been with anyone since.”

  “Good,” I said, my lips curved. “Now, can I get back to sucking your cock?”

  His fingers clenched in my hair for a millisecond before relaxing down to his sides. “Far be it for me to stop a woman from doing what she wants.”

  I chuckled. “Right answer.”

  And then I parted my lips and let him slide deep into my mouth.

  Thick, was my first thought, quickly followed by rock-hard and long. But then my mind focused less on the tangible and more on the desire to make Cole’s experience as incredible as the one he’d given me. I pulled out every trick I’d learned over the years, using my mouth and hands in tandem, relaxing my throat so I could get all of him inside, cupping his balls, stroking the length of him, generally driving him insane as I brought him up to the edge.

  I would have brought him over that edge, too, condom and health talk or not. The feel of him in my mouth, the way he groaned my name, how his fingers were clenching and unclenching at his sides . . . all of that meant that I was dripping wet, more turned on than I’d ever been in my life, and wanting nothing more than to feel him come apart between my lips.

  “No,” he rasped, tugging my head from his cock and hauling me up so I was sprawled against his chest.

  I barely had time to suck in a breath before his mouth was against mine and his cock was sinking inside me. Fuck, he was big, or maybe he was just as turned on as me, harder than normal, thicker than normal, especially when pressing against my hot and swollen tissues.

  Either way it took my breath away, having him inside me.

  He seemed to feel the same way because he paused, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, his forehead glinting with sweat, his eyes so fucking intense as they met mine that I had to pause and just breathe, palm bracing myself upright on his chest.

  Then his mouth turned up and his hands dropped to my thighs. “Move, honey.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice.

  My rhythm was hard and fast and a little rough, but Cole was right there with me, slipping one hand down and using his thumb to circle my clit, the other still on my hip, coaxing me to move faster, harder, rougher.

  And all the while he encouraged me on, telling me how beautiful I was, how good my hot pussy felt as it clamped down on him, how much he’d wanted me.

  “Come on me, honey,” he murmured. “Let me feel how tight that pussy can get around me. Let me feel you come.” His thumb pressed hard, and I toppled over the edge, limbs going limp as my orgasm tore through me. I barely managed to stay upright as he kept thrusting in to me, prolonging my pleasure, before giving into his own with a low groan.

  I gave up my fight with staying upright and collapsed against his chest.

  Cole’s arms wrapped me tight, one on my ass, the other around my shoulders, as we lay pressed together, pulses slowly returning to normal. I expected to want to disengage, to back away and get dressed and get out, just like every other time I’d slept with a man.

  This was different.

  I didn’t care that I was sweaty in the layers covering my top half, nor did I give two shits that my ass was hanging out in the open.

  I was with Cole.

  Me. With Cole.

  That was the thought that finally snapped me back to reality.

  I shoved free of his hold and stood.

  Then I moved to my pants, yanking them back up and tying the waistband tight.

  With a double knot this time.

  Ten

  Cole

  I should have known she was going to retreat.

  I’d pressed her too hard, too fast, and she’d predictably retreated back into the safety of her shell. That was what any frightened creature would do, not that Olivia was a creature in anything but the most biological way. Still, she was a woman running scared, and we’d just jumped about ten levels on the scale of intimacy.

  Maybe she would have been all right if we hadn’t had last night or the early hours of this morning. Or the banter as we’d talked. The sharing, albeit minimal of our lives.

  Those were ties, and I knew by now that she didn’t do that.

  Not with the men she was seeing anyway.

  With Devon and Becca, it was different.

  They were close, but that was an anomaly in Olivia’s life and probably mostly because Dev could be a stubborn fuck when he saw someone in his circle that needed care, and he had worn down her barriers.

  A pang of jealousy tore through me, but I shoved it down.

  Dev didn’t know about her horse or the fact that she once hadn’t had enough money for food. I would bet my ranch on that. Which meant that she had shared something with me, even though it made her vulnerable.

  I watched her tie up her sweats like she was expecting some punk-ass middle-schooler to come behind her and try to pants her. But only when she moved toward Bucky, did I get my shit together. I was still hard, even after the best orgasm of my life, because I’d been dreaming about Olivia for years, and the reality dwarfed the fantasies beyond belief, but I shoved myself back into my underwear and zipped up.

  Focus.

  She’d made the first move.

&n
bsp; She was comfortable with that.

  And while I didn’t necessarily want her to be uncomfortable, I also didn’t want her to take this time to shore up her defenses again and shove me into a box that she was comfortable with.

  That would mean distance and her running.

  I got that, really, I did. What we’d just shared was the most intense sexual experience of my life. I’d never had anything be like that—as though I knew what she wanted almost before she did, that I could feel what it was doing to her and it heightened my own pleasure. As though we, two separate people, had become one being for a few moments.

  It felt better than anything else. Ever.

  But it was also terrifying.

  So, I understood the urge for distance, even though I was definitely all in with everything that was Olivia. Still, it was like I had been reaching into the oven for a pan without a potholder, the scorching heat of the metal burning the skin of my hand before I could pull it to safety.

  That knee-jerk reaction to yank back was intense.

  But I had to shove it down.

  I didn’t need to run scared, too, not when I knew the potential of us, not when the small pieces of what I’d already learned about her were enough to make me want to tear open her soul and understand every single thing. Fear of getting hurt had never stopped me from playing through pain, from taking another shift, from forcing my burning lungs to work just a little bit harder in order to chase down the puck.

  So, no running.

  But I also needed to be smart.

  Or at least that’s what I was thinking before I saw her stumble and start to go down.

  Then reason and proceeding carefully with Olivia went out the window.

  Hustling, I closed the distance between us and scooped her up again. She’d been favoring her injured foot again, and it took the barest glimpse for me to see that she’d opened the cut back up.

  The bottom of her sock was bright red with blood.

  “I’m fi—”

  I kissed her. She wasn’t fine, but I wasn’t going to argue with her about it. Hence the kiss, hence keeping her tight against me as I carried her back to the car and set her on the trunk.

  Fucking stupid to have done what we’d done, and not just the public part, because that had been risky, but hot as hell. Rather, I hadn’t taken care with her injury, and that made me feel like the biggest jackass on the planet. I pulled away once she was on the trunk, bending to retrieve my pack and depositing it next to her.

  Also, fucking stupid of me to not have a phone with me.

  One call, and I could have had someone out here.

  So yeah, stupid was coming at me in a lot of ways that day.

  Cursing quietly, I carefully tugged the sock off, pleasantly surprised that my kiss seemed to have distracted her enough that she actually let me tend to her without complaint. Just being able to touch her calmed me enough for the guilt to fade and for me to focus. I just needed to get her foot wrapped and then her on Bucky’s back. If we stayed on the main road, it was a straight shot to my house, and we could both ride to make better time.

  Buck couldn’t handle that forever, but he could make it most of the way.

  There. Plan made.

  Calm found.

  I glanced up into her eyes, saw that her expression had softened, that the panic had disappeared, and in its place was something gentle, almost vulnerable. Maybe she had hit her head yesterday. “Olivia?”

  “Shh,” she murmured, and I froze, head jerking back. I’d expected fire, and definitely running, but instead she gave me something different . . . and something infinitely better. Her fingers brushed my jaw, tone almost reverent. “Thank you for worrying about me. I haven’t had much of th—” A shake of her head. “Anyway, I’m fine.”

  “I’ve decided that I hate that word,” I gritted out.

  Still soft. “I know you’re freaked out because of the blood, but look, it’s not bad. I’m—”

  “Do not say you’re fine.”

  “Baby.” She cupped my cheek. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Lips to my forehead, my jaw. “Just a little bit.” Her fingers wrapped around my nape, threading into my hair. “Hush, now.”

  I’d expected sharp. I’d anticipated harsh. For her to push me away and push hard. Instead, I got soft. Gentle. She knew I was spiraling, feeling like shit that she was hurt because of me and . . . she gave me soft.

  My breath slid slowly out of me, taking the barbed edges of my emotions with it.

  The last of which disappeared when she unzipped the pack and pulled out the first aid kit. “Patch me up, baby. Then let’s get out of here.”

  So, I did. I washed her foot, re-bandaged it, then wrapped the whole thing in gauze because I wasn’t about to put a dirty ass sock back on her. And she didn’t complain, didn’t try to walk when I brought her over to Bucky and set her on his back. No words as I repacked his saddlebags, nor when I mounted behind her and tugged her against my chest, lifting her foot so it was elevated on top of the saddle.

  That was when she gave me words.

  But they were of the teasing variety, and they soothed the ragged edges of my emotions further.

  “Good thing I’m bendy,” she said with a chuckle, leaning back against my chest as I picked up the reins and guided Bucky into motion. “This is where I’d say something about being a former gymnast or whatever, but that would be a lie, so I’ll just say that I do get my fill of daily yoga, and so that bendy comes in several varieties of flexible.”

  I snorted, moving us onto the road and finally relaxing enough to joke back, though it was less joke and more self-deprecating truth. “Are you trying to make me hard?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Is it working?”

  “From the first moment I saw you,” I grumbled.

  She laughed. “Don’t get me started on my panties,” she teased. “All those half-naked hockey stars and I could barely tear my eyes off you.”

  “Will you laugh if I admit to keeping my shirt off in hopes of you noticing me?”

  “Yes,” she said, giggling lightly. “But it worked because I did notice you.”

  “Well, could have fooled me,” I grumbled. “Got a reputation for being that guy, the one always swinging free and loose, hoping that you’d take a second look at me and decide that I was worth your time.”

  Her breath caught, shoulders stiffening, and I would have thought it was because the road had gotten a little bumpy if not for the way her tone quieted.

  “I couldn’t,” she said. “Couldn’t risk noticing you.”

  My fingers clenched on the reins as I processed that. “I understood.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I told her. “I wanted you, but I also got that it wasn’t the right time for either of us. You couldn’t be seen as the agent who went there with her clients, even if what was between us was different.”

  “Part of me thinks that even now, I still run that risk,” she murmured.

  “I know.” A beat. “Because even if you only did it once, then there would still be a stigma.”

  She sighed.

  “I don’t want to hurt your career.”

  It was the truth. I didn’t want to screw with her professional life, no matter how much I wanted her personally.

  She placed her hand over mine on the reins.

  “I learned to stop giving two shits what other people thought about me a long time ago.” I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath, but her words had it sliding free. “I know you don’t want to hurt me,” she said, making my lungs hitch again. “I know you, Cole. That’s probably why I’ve resisted taking what I wanted for so long.”

  “A lesson in restraint?” I asked.

  “Or one in self-punishment,” she murmured. “Either way, it’s one that’s done now.”

  “Good.”

  She nestled back against me. “Yes, good.” A brief pause. “Now, I want you to tel
l me why a city boy with no horse experience decided to buy a horse as his first big purchase upon making it big.”

  I chuckled. “You sure you want to hear the sob story?”

  “It’s better than focusing on my own.”

  Now wasn’t that the truth?

  “Okay,” I said, knowing that if I ever wanted her to open up to me, I needed to be equally open to her in return. “Most of my life is pretty normal. Parents together, parents divorced. Dead-beat dad who left, and single mom who struggled. We lived on public assistance for a long time. For practically my whole life, I guess.” I pressed my lips together for a moment. “One day, I was invited to a party at the ice rink. I think it was the first time I’d ever skated, and a hockey practice was happening after the public skate. I forgot about the party, about the cake and ice cream and favors—and, believe me, for a kid like me, who didn’t get that stuff often, forgetting about cake and ice cream and a present my mom didn’t have to scrimp and save for was huge.”

  “Cole.”

  I paused.

  “I understand.”

  The girl who’d had to sell her horse so her family could eat, certainly did understand.

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded, eyes on the road, but her spine was still pressed to my chest. “So, you fell in love with the sport?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know how my mom made it happen, but she got me equipment, paid for my lessons, and I was off.” I shook my head, the wonder of her managing that still not old. “I lived at that rink, breathed and bled hockey. And eventually, I managed to make it a career.”

  “Your mom is so proud of you,” she murmured, having spoken to her a few times over the course of my career. I didn’t think they’d ever actually met up in person, though, just wreaked havoc over phone lines.

  “She is,” I agreed. “Got to see me play, and I got to give her a place on the beach, like she’d always dreamed about.” I sighed. “Though I damn near had to twist her arm to accept it.”

  Olivia chuckled. “She’s my kind of woman, that’s for sure.”

  “Don’t think I forgot what happened the last time the two of you two worked together.”