Chapter 17 Cole
Cole
Music has always soothed me, and after what had just transpired, I needed to calm the fuck down.
At the piano, my fingers moved over the keys.
Schubert’s “Ave Maria” began to take shape—a favorite of my mother’s.
I surrendered to the tender melody as though it was something organic that could reach inside of me and untangle the anguished knot that had tightened since laying eyes on my father.
I’d lost control with Charlotte. The look on her face when I’d had her writhing on my fingers would be emblazoned in my mind forever.
I’d never forget the feel of her slickness.
The smell of her. I’d just made myself come so hard in the shower, but it wasn’t enough.
My body was fevered. It wouldn’t be enough until I could sink into her and feel her bucking and clenching around my cock.
I felt her presence in the doorway before she’d said a word. My body always had a sense of her in a room. My eyes were always searching for her.
I stopped playing. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long.” She drifted closer. “You play so beautifully.” Her hand hovered over my shoulder before she withdrew it quickly. “Don’t stop on my account. Please. I’d love to hear more.”
I twisted on the piano stool to drink her in.
A lilac silk gown wrapped around her curves, and her dark hair fell damp from the shower in a cascade down her back.
I never played for an audience, but I couldn’t deny her anything.
It wasn’t a particularly difficult piece, not the kind I’d play to impress someone, but I carried on with it regardless.
I let my fingers caress the keys. The music wound around me in invisible threads.
Every note so intense in the stillness. Memories of a time when life was simple rushed over me.
Charlotte and me riding our bikes in the woods.
Sun dappling through trees. Charlotte’s laughter ringing in my ears. Pure freedom.
The song reached its gentle climax, a break in the tension, before I finished the piece.
Silence swept around us. Charlotte’s head bowed low.
She looked as sad as the day of her father’s funeral.
I’d brought her here to soothe her sorrow, but tonight I’d made it worse. A heavy weight compressed my chest.
“I overreacted earlier. I apologize. Reuben pushes my buttons.” I patted the seat next to me on the piano stool.
She sat. Her shoulder brushed mine, and her floral fragrance hit my nose. She kept her gaze fixed on the keys. “He seems harmless enough.”
“He’s in my father’s pocket. I don’t trust him.”
She shot me a tentative look. “You don’t talk about your father. You went to work for him, but you don’t anymore?”
“That’s right.”
She nodded, encouraging me to continue. The words wedged somewhere between my heart and my throat and I pushed them back down. No point in trying to explain my fucked-up family. It would only make me look weak. “About what just happened between us—”
“Forget it. We can pretend it didn’t.”
“Is that what you want?”
“It’s better if we stick to the contract.”
I spread my fingers over the keys. “We could amend the contract.”
“Orgasms but not feelings, right? You already told me you don’t have a heart.”
“Sex and feelings are two different things. You have physical needs that I’m happy to satisfy. We can keep them separate. It doesn’t have to be deep.”
She shook her head and her mouth curved in a sarcastic smile. “Not deep. Of course.”
Her silk gown had a Japanese pattern, cherry blossoms and temples. My fingers itched to slide her robe down, sweep her hair to the side, and plant kisses along the bare skin of her shoulders. To trace the curve of her neck with my lips.
“I’ve been clear about what I can give to this. I don’t have time for or interest in a relationship. It’s not me. It’s not what I want. But it’s clear we have chemistry. I can make you feel good if you’ll let me. Look at it as a pleasant distraction.”
“I get it, Cole. You want casual. I’ve met men like you before. Emotionally unavailable. It’s tiresome. You want a woman at your beck and call, but if she dares to want more from you, she’s needy and demanding. You get twitchy if she leaves a toothbrush at your place.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but there was some truth in her words, and maybe I’d got tired of it all.
My friends were settled down. I couldn’t deny that the past couple of years had felt lonely.
I didn’t have time for the emotional investment in a relationship.
My energy had to be channeled elsewhere.
If I was going to make my father pay for what he’d done to my mother, I had to stay focused.
Emotions were something I couldn’t afford, but low-effort hookups felt meaningless lately.
I hardly bothered. That’s why this was the ideal scenario.
A wife on my own terms with orgasms thrown in to keep us both happy.
“Sex is just sex. It’s a physical release. Whatever it is, our bodies respond to each other,” I said.
“Yes, we have chemistry, but we also have history.” She let out a deep sigh. “I can see this heading down a road I’m not going to like. It’s better in the long term if we stick to the contract. You hurt me once before. I’d be an idiot to go there with you again. It’s better to stop now.”
She was making a good decision, but disappointment ground in my gut. “But you still want to marry me?”
She gave me a small smile. “I may as well. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
As much as I longed for this woman in my bed, this would have to do.
A marriage on paper. I could keep her close and take care of her.
The craving would pass. I let my eyes linger on her one last time before I rose from the piano stool.
It didn’t feel right to bring her here. Charlotte didn’t seem happy in the city.
London wasn’t good for the soul. I’d get her out of here.
Take her to the countryside. Build her an art studio.
Whatever it took to put a smile on her face.
“I have a place in the Cotswolds. I’m busy with work this week, but I’ll take you to see it next week. Would you like that?”
She kept her face turned away. Her voice sounded a million miles away. “Sure. Whatever you want.”