Chapter 27
Ariana
PLAY WITH ME
This must be what lust feels like.
It’s the only way I can think to describe the needy ache building low in my belly. The visceral craving I have for the man whose large hand is resting casually between my thighs.
Every bump in the road, rocking the cabin of the truck unevenly as we traverse the short drive to Cole’s house is like a jolt of electricity right through my center.
In an agonizingly light touch, his pinky finger swipes over the seam in my jeans. And every time he makes the faintest contact with my clit, my eyes roll back in my head.
“Cole,” I whimper, not caring how desperate I sound.
“Something wrong, Ariana?” His smile is sexy and evil and so hot I think I might combust before we ever make it out of this truck.
He knows he’s torturing me with his teasing and he’s enjoying it way too much.
Unexpectedly, he applies pressure right where I need it, causing my back to arch and whiny sounds to escape my throat.
My pulse is racing, heart beating so wildly I think it might break through my chest.
A flicker of relief hits me when the truck slows to a stop in front of his house.
Cole manages to put the truck in park and cut the engine while keeping his hand still tucked between my thighs.
He turns his head to look at me and the heat behind his stare makes me want to squirm. “Ready to go inside?”
I’m not moving first. I physically cannot.
Looking down at his hand, I decide for once in my life I want to be bold. To be some version of myself I’ve only ever dreamed of being.
My thighs slowly open for him and I hear him suck in a quiet gasp, like maybe he’s as surprised as I am.
I’m letting my body do the talking. And my body wants him to stop being so careful with me. Right now, I want reckless.
“I knew I was right about you,” he says under his breath, and I forget how to breathe. He shakes his head slowly, making a tsk-tsk-tsk sound. “You let everyone believe you’re such a good girl, but I knew somewhere deep down there was a needy little slut who’s been wanting to come out and play.”
I shouldn’t like that word. It’s supposed to be derogatory. It’s supposed to be an insult. But I’m preening under the use of it, growing slick, the ache now throbbing. I’m so aroused it’s almost painful.
“So play with me, Cole,” I say through a sigh, out of breath and out of my mind.
He squeezes my thigh. “Jesus Christ, doll. You can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to be a decent man.”
And then he’s pulling me toward him. I’m not the smallest girl, but I don’t get the chance to overthink it because he handles me like it’s effortless—guiding me from the passenger seat to straddling his lap like I’m nothing but a ragdoll in his hands.
The moment our bodies meet, the hard bulge of his cock rubs over my pussy and I yelp right before Cole’s lips capture mine.
His tongue invades my mouth, tangling and swirling in a devouring kiss.
He’s possessively holding my face, palms on my cheeks, thumbs resting on my cheekbones, fingers gripping my jaw while my hands rest on the solid plane of his chest.
Of their own accord, my hips start rocking, seeking more pressure from his hard length. I don’t know what I’m doing, but it feels good. It feels so good I can’t think.
He tears his lips away, our eyes meeting through the thick fog floating between us.
Somehow he has the strength to lift his hips, thrusting against me.
“Keep moving, baby,” he rasps. “We’re doing this together.”
I’m not even sure what this is. Dry humping I guess? Regardless, I continue moving my hips, where he meets me thrust for thrust, as his mouth nips and sucks all over my neck.
It’s like an overwhelming cacophony of sensations, each one building over the other, until I’m on the precipice of a peak.
Cole must feel it too because he’s grunting and moaning into my ear.
Moaning.
I never gave much thought to the sounds a man might make during sex, and even though we’re not having sex, there’s something incredibly satisfying knowing I’m the reason behind those sounds. That he feels something and it’s not just me about to fall over the edge alone.
His hands grab hold of my hips, helping me to move faster. It’s frantic and hurried and frenzied.
Through it all, he whispers praise after praise.
You’re doing so good, baby.
Just like that, keep going.
You look so sexy rubbing your pussy over my cock.
Dirty, filthy praise I can’t get enough of.
My mouth drops to his, and as my tongue strokes and licks against his, delicious trembles radiate through me before utter bliss takes over. My vision momentarily goes black, every nerve in my body coming undone.
He falls over the peak with me, a string of strained curses flying from his lips.
When the fog begins to clear, I find myself clinging to Cole like a koala, our breathing in sync. Slowly, I loosen my grip on him, untangling my arms and leaning my back against the steering wheel.
There’s a lazy, satisfied smirk on his face, eyes half-closed.
I’ve never looked at Cole and thought he looked old despite the ten years between us, but right now he looks much younger than I’m used to, boyishly handsome.
And something about it makes the muscles in my stomach start to squeeze, maybe even flutter.
“I don’t think I’ve done that since I was a teenager.” He chuckles and then places a soft kiss on my lips. “Highly underrated.”
An air of self-consciousness creeps in. I know I asked for lessons for this very reason, but it’s still embarrassing that I’ve never even done this before now. A grown woman who’s never dry humped. Further proof of how far behind I really am.
“Hey.” He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Get out of your head and come back to earth and enjoy this with me. Your pussy is so good, I came in my pants just from rubbing against it. That means I liked it, okay? Everything we’ve done, I’ve wanted it too.
I’m a selfish bastard so believe me when I say I’m exactly where I want to be and I’m loving every second of it. ”
I don’t know how he reads me so well—how he knows the exact moment I start questioning everything. It’s a relief, honestly, not having to explain where my head is at. He just gets me.
Maybe that’s why he’s never short on company. It’s like he’s cracked the code, knows exactly what women want. Kind of a dangerous skill if you ask me.
His hand slides up into my hair, gently cradling my head. “Do you believe me? Blink once for yes or twice for no.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “There it is. More smiles less panicking. Deal?”
I nod, not trusting my voice with the sudden swell of emotion expanding around my heart. It’s his patience. His care. The way he sees me.
Not things I would have once called sexy—and yet they outshine everything else. The dreamy blue eyes. The ruggedly handsome face. The Greek-god body. Even his stupid-hot height.
Cole is proving to be more than I ever imagined.
“Here you go,” Cole says, handing me a pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie. “I’m going to clean up. Make yourself at home.”
And then he’s gone, disappearing behind the door to his en suite, leaving me alone in his bedroom.
Layla always says you can learn everything you need to know about a man from his bedroom. No headboard? Fuckboy. Unwashed sheets? Probably doesn’t manscape. Old food and dirty dishes? He’s looking for a mommy, not a partner. Mattress on the floor? Run.
Based on her criteria, I’m not sure what to make of Cole.
A king-sized bed sits at the center, against a wall.
The headboard and frame are greige suede, the bedding a deep charcoal, and the bed is made the way a hotel would make it—layered and folded with more than enough cloud-like pillows.
Two matching nightstands flank either side, each with a lamp.
A large woven rug anchors the whole thing, and above the bed hangs an oversized canvas of a vineyard landscape.
He put intention and thought into this space. It’s so…adult. I mean obviously he’s a man in his thirties, but I think I’d be less surprised if he had an unmade bed without a headboard and a stack of crusty cups in the corner.
I can’t help but feel out of my element a bit.
The sound of water running in the sink shakes me out of some of the shock so I undress and pull on the clothes Cole handed me before he comes back.
I was worried for a second they wouldn’t fit right.
Women and men are built differently, and that particular fantasy—drowning in a man’s clothes, the way it looks in movies—always seemed designed for a different body type than mine.
But Cole is broad and tall and I’m swimming in his clothes, and I feel perfectly cozy.
I take a careful seat at the foot of the bed, hands twisted in my lap because I have no idea what to do with myself.
The door swings open a moment later and Cole strides out shirtless, low-slung gray sweatpants sitting indecently on his hips. It’s the male equivalent of lingerie.
Every coherent thought I had flies straight out the window.
His chest is dusted with dark hair, ab muscles cut and defined, and for one brief traitorous moment I think about what it might feel like to run my tongue over each one.
I screw my eyes shut and snap my gaze away before my brain can run wild with fantasies.
Noticing the expression on my face, he freezes. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not wearing a shirt,” I tell him truthfully because there’s no sense in lying. Knowing Cole, he’d draw the truth out of me anyway.
He looks down at his own chest like he forgot about it, then back up at me. “Do you want me to put one on?”
“No,” I say, too quickly.
A cocky smile lifts on his face.
“I mean—” I press my lips together. “It’s your house. You can wear whatever you want.”
“Mm-hmm.” He crosses to the bed and drops down beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him. “I was thinking we could watch a movie. Unwind a little from that dinner.”
The tension in my shoulders eases. As fun as our moment in the truck was, it was still a lot for me. I need time before I’m ready for anything more.
Admittedly, when he asked if I wanted to hang out, I worried he really meant sex.
I know he wouldn’t push me, and he’s been incredibly patient so far, but I’m not going to assume that patience is limitless.
“A movie sounds great.”
There’s a quick flash of relief on his face before he stands and moves to what I assume is his side of the bed.
He points a remote at a TV across from the bed that I didn’t notice before because it was disguised as artwork.
“Come on, doll.” He pulls the blankets back. “Get comfortable.”
I join Cole on his bed, slipping beneath the covers.
I intended to leave some room between us since the bed is plenty big enough, but Cole puts his arm around me, pulling me close.
I can’t help but stiffen up for a moment because I’ve never been so close to his naked chest before.
His skin is hot and his spicy, sweet masculine scent invades my nose, stealing my ability to recall why I want him to be patient with me at all.
He runs his hand in a soothing motion where he’s holding my shoulder and I melt back into him, no longer interested in keeping any space between us.
Cole scrolls through streaming services to see what movies are available.
I’m terrible at keeping up on what the hot new thing is to watch so I’m very little help.
Eventually he lands on a romantic comedy about two assistants scheming to set up their bosses.
I never would’ve pegged Cole for the romantic comedy type.
“Nora likes it.” He shrugs, likely noticing my surprise. “So I figured you’d like it too.”
I bite my smile, nuzzling my head against his chest.
I actually have seen the movie before but I don’t say anything because I don’t want to burst this little bubble we’re in.
Our relationship isn’t real, it’s just supposed to be for show.
And even though we’re physical with each other because of the lessons, this doesn’t fall in either category.
There’s no one around to act the part for so we really don’t need to be cuddled up the way we are.
This isn’t even a lesson. This is…confusing.
It feels like a date. Like a real one. And my stomach dips at the realization.
I thought it would be impossible to fall for Cole. And now I’m worried there’s a real possibility I might’ve been wrong about that.