Chapter 33
WHO’S IN CHARGE?
Something you’re still figuring out?
Cole: How to be a good dad.
Bridget: Aw. Just saying that means you’re already a good dad. I’m trying to balance work and personal life.
Cole: What’s that?
Bridget: Right?
COLE
In the living room, I flicked on the gas fireplace. My sofa wasn’t the most comfortable spot for sex, but I’d put up with the hard cushions to watch her ride my dick with the firelight gilding her perfect skin. “I’ll get a condom,” I said.
She stood with her back to the fireplace. She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, with her dark hair highlighted in red and gold. “No need.”
“What?” My soul left my body for a second while I imagined thrusting into her pussy bare.
“I’m going to suck you off.”
“No. I want—”
Scowling, she put her hands on her hips. “Who’s in charge?”
My belly tingled. “You are.”
“So unless you’re telling me no, you don’t want a blowjob, you’re going to take off your pants.”
No one in his right mind would say no, so I sat on the hard sofa and pulled off my shoes and socks.
Then I stood and unbuckled my belt. Slowly, both to feel control over my body and to enjoy the weight of her gaze on me, I tugged off my sweater.
I took my time with the buttons on my shirt, even the ones at the cuffs.
I shrugged out of it and tossed it onto the sofa.
Finally, I dropped my trousers and shorts and stepped out of them.
I stood straight, knowing that the time I spent in the gym had honed my muscles to an almost sculptural quality.
She licked her lips and moved toward me. One step. Then another. I wanted to pull her toward me, ravage her mouth again before unzipping that dress and letting it cascade to the floor. But she wanted to take the lead, so I let her.
“Mind if I borrow one of your cushions?”
Oh, fuck. I dug my fingers into my palms as spots danced in my vision. I could not go off before she’d even touched me. “Here.” I grabbed the arm cushion and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She dropped it to the rug and sank slowly to her knees.
I was lost in the deep pools of her eyes, like the boiling-hot caldera we’d peered into on our hike.
When she lowered her gaze to my dick, it strained toward her.
She slicked her thumb through the wetness at the tip.
I gritted my teeth at her featherlight touch, which was not enough and yet too much all at once.
To keep from touching her, I balled my hands into fists at my sides.
I groaned when she gripped my dick. Her small hand didn’t go all the way around it, but the pressure was what I was aching for. “Harder. Please.”
She met my gaze again as she gripped me firmly and stuck out her tongue to trace around the head.
“Fu-uck, yes.”
When she put her lips on me and sucked me inside, my knees almost buckled.
I’d fantasized for weeks about her berry lips on my cock, and the reality was a thousand times better.
Her mouth was warm and wet, and when her tongue tapped the sensitive spot underneath, heat coiled at the base of my spine.
“I’m not gonna last long, sweetheart,” I slurred.
Somehow, she flashed me a wicked smile despite my dick in her mouth.
Her hand worked the base as she sucked the tip.
How had I gotten so lucky? This beautiful, strong woman, whose delectable taste lingered on my tongue, was no longer my rival but my lover.
With my finger, I traced a line from her temple to her cheek, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
Warmth filled my chest, and in that moment, I knew.
I loved her.
Once we’d realized our antagonism was a cover for the attraction we felt, she’d become my partner at work. On Wednesday, she’d agreed to try expanding our alliance outside work. But now I realized it was more than attraction, than partnership, even.
It was love.
Maybe I was a fool for saying it the moment I recognized the long-dormant feeling. Or maybe I was courageous. Regardless, I said softly, “I love you, Bridget.”
Her movements faltered for a second, then she stilled. She blinked. Then she took me deeper and hollowed her cheeks.
The coiled pleasure inside me unspooled. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to come.”
Her answer was another long pull, and I couldn’t have held back if I’d tried. I groaned and let go. When she’d wrung the last of my orgasm out of me, she pulled off and sat back on her heels. I collapsed, boneless, onto the hard sofa.
“Sweetheart, I…” I wiped a bit of my release from the corner of her mouth, then leaned forward to rest my forehead on hers.
Our breathing was ragged and unsynchronized.
I gathered her to me and kissed her gently.
“I love you,” I finished feebly. The words were too weak to describe the powerful emotions that filled me to bursting.
She touched my cheek and opened her mouth. I was listening with my ears, my open mouth, my eyes, even my pores, and I heard her soft intake of breath.
“Could I have some water, please?”