Chapter 9 #2
“Hey there, handsome.” Cole materializes at my elbow, his voice pitched for my hearing only. “Can I steal you for a minute?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
He turns and marches down a corridor, and I follow, glancing over my shoulder as we go.
There are a few twists and turns, and we pass other lavishly-appointed spaces filled with Victorian bric-a-brac, rich colors and fabrics that hold onto their historic charm.
Finally, he pulls me through a doorway, and I barely have time to register that it’s a spacious, dimly-lit bathroom before he’s shutting the door and locking it, and launching himself towards me.
“Oh fuck, kiss me —”
I’m not about to fuck that up. I catch Cole by the waist, crushing our mouths together as he whines, his hands running all over my chest and back.
The sink behind us is set into a wide marble counter, and it’s easy work to crowd him towards it, to curl my hands around the backs of his thighs and set him on top of it, his skinny ass firmly planted on the smooth surface and his knees bracketing my hips.
He wriggles forward, making sure our bodies are flush together, and I oblige him, snaking my hand down his back and grasping his ass to pull him close.
“Was it really that bad?” I groan into his ear as I mouth kisses down his neck.
“You have no idea —” Cole is unbuttoning the first few buttons of my shirt, running his fingers through the hair on my chest as he locks his ankles around the backs of my thighs. “They made me model a gown made out of toilet paper!”
“I bet you still looked hot —”
“I mean, of course I did, but that’s not the point —” He must have been building up a head of steam all afternoon, because he keeps talking even as he’s holding my face against his throat with one hand while reaching down the back of my chinos with the other.
“Opening gifts went on forever. Do you need a new blender? If you do, you should just ask Bree, because I’m pretty sure she got three of them —”
I laugh as I reach for his belt buckle. “I’ll take that under advisement —”
“And the worst part?” He’s nuzzling the shell of my ear, and I’m about ready to lose my mind. “Bree’s aunt is completely wasted, and I think she’s taken a shine to me, because she wouldn’t stop sidling up next to me and pinching my ass. I think she thinks I’m some kind of rent boy —”
“I mean —” I look down at the pale pink shirt that barely buttons across his thin chest, the painted-on white jeans that are doing nothing to conceal just how hot he is for me, and I cock an eyebrow.
“Hey! No slutshaming —” He shoves my shoulder playfully. “Besides, I’ve never heard you complaining before.”
“No, you’re right, that was shitty of me.” I pull back enough so that I can look at him. He’s leaning back on his hands, his face and neck already a little pink from rubbing against my scruff, and he looks delicious. “Do you want to talk about it? Or go and say something to her?”
Cole chuckles, reaching out to finger the hem of my shirt. “Nah, it’s not really a big deal, it just made me feel a little crawly and — honestly, what I really need is to get off.”
“I can do that —”
I fold my glasses and put them down next to the sink.
And then I go in more deliberately than I had at first, sliding my hand along Cole’s cheek and into the hair at the base of his skull as I draw him in for a slow, syrupy kiss.
With my other hand, I ease open the buttons of his shirt one by one, exposing his smooth chest. It’s a landscape I know well, and as I sink to my knees, I drag my mouth down the midline of his torso, stopping to lavish attention on his sensitive nipples, to tease them to pebbly peaks with my tongue.
His hands are splayed out on the marble counter, his head thrown back as he arches towards my touch, and it tugs something inside me to know that he feels this safe with me, that he lets me care for him in this way.
When my knees hit the floor, I pause, nuzzling him through his jeans, and I hear a huff of air above me.
“What?” I rest my cheek on Cole’s thigh, lifting my eyes to his face.
“You’re so fucking sexy like that. I feel like I’m eighteen again, trying not to shoot off immediately while I’m sitting on the edge of your bed holding onto the blanket for dear life. Remember that?”
“Mmm, but I’d like to think my technique has improved since then.” I reach for the button on his jeans and draw him out into the open. And then, with my eyes locked on his face, I lean in and swallow him down.
“Fucking hell —”
I’ve done this for him before when we could take our time, when we knew we would be alone for hours, when we could enjoy each other just for the pleasure of it.
But I don’t have that kind of time right now, because we could be missed at any moment, and because he said he needed this, needed me to help set him right.
So I don’t think about the party outside, about my brother or Sabrina or how long I might have to stand around avoiding small talk until it’s over.
I don’t think about the past, about how shocked I was when I realized I was the first person ever to do this for Cole, even though I definitely wasn’t his first.
I don’t think about anything except his hand winding in my curls, encouraging me to move, to slide my lips along his shaft.
I think about the hard tile floor under my knees and his legs brushing my shoulders and the scent of him all around me and his smooth skin resting heavy on my tongue.
I think about the burst of salt in my mouth, telling me he’s close, and about the soft grunts that fall from his mouth, the way his hips twitch as I take him apart.
“Ezra, fuck, I’m not gonna last, I’m —”
I’ve never been afraid of taking what he gives me, and so I stay where I am, milking him with my lips as he spills, working him through each shudder until he gently pushes me away.
I swallow, wiping the edge of my mouth, and then I sit back on my heels and watch as he tucks himself back in his pants, as he reaches down to help me to my feet.
“Better?” I ask as he pulls me close to kiss me.
“So much better,” he whispers against my lips. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Not right now, anyway.” I reach forward to button his shirt, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Besides, it’ll help us both get through the rest of this thing, knowing how hard I’m going to fuck you later.”
“Is that a promise?” Cole’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“You can count on me,” I reply, and I mean it.