CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Cole
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Cole
61 days to go
T hree things wake me simultaneously.
The sun coming up, which tells me it’s way too early; my still painfully hard cock after last night; and the smell of pancakes mixed with the sounds of laughter from the kitchen. I roll over and stretch, forcing my tired eyes open. It’s a big fucking day today and I barely slept. After Mabel asked for Ginger, I went promptly to the kitchen, poured myself two stiff bourbons and knocked them back. Then, I made a beeline for a cool shower that didn’t help at all after feeling Ginger’s body pressed against mine when she came, needy and desperate. Even after I fisted my cock for some relief, the dull ache of want was still there.
I have no idea how long I stood in the doorway of Mabel’s room after I got dressed, just watching the two of them sleep. I’ll never get that sweet picture out of my mind: both of their dark hair splayed out around them, as they faced each other, their hands folded together in the center between them. Mabel’s free hand was twisted into Ginger’s hair, the way she normally does with her Cowey’s fur. If one thing had gone wrong yesterday I could’ve been having a totally different night. But instead, they were safe, tucked up peacefully in Mabel’s bed. The way I felt at the sight of them asleep together still has me in knots this morning.
I sit up on the edge of the bed and rub my eyes with my palms. The girls’ laughter echoes down the hall and I know there’s no better way to start my day than with that sound. It’s only been a few weeks, but Ginger’s presence is slowly creeping into this space. And the thing is, I don’t even want to try to control it anymore. I want to lose control with her.
I pull some clothes on and pad into the kitchen. I’m not prepared for the scene that greets me on the early side of six a.m.
The blinds are open, letting the sun in along with the fresh morning air. The local country station is crooning the latest hit, and in the center of the room are Ginger and Mabes, both in their pajamas with big buns on top of their heads. It’s as though Ginger did their hair the same on purpose.
Just behind them, a fat stack of pancakes and fruit, and syrup and coffee, awaits. A tight feeling takes over my lungs. I’m not used to help in this house or the idea of someone taking care of us.
“Happy special day, Daddy!” Mabel jumps up with the biggest smile on her face, throwing both hands in the air. It’s her Christmas-morning smile on a simple Tuesday in the middle of June. Fuck, the sight of them together gives me a small glimpse of what heaven might be like.
“Well, good morning, girls,” I say back, making my way over to the cupboard for a mug.
“I have her dress all laid out for tonight. You’re going to look so pretty, aren’t you, Mabes?” Ginger says to Mabel.
Mabes nods.
“What color is your dress?” she asks Ginger.
“I-I don’t think … This is a family thing tonight, honey—”
“You’re not coming?” Mabel asks, looking down, disappointment lining her sweet face.
I pull the cream from the fridge.
“Of course Ginger will come with us tonight,” I say matter-of-factly.
She looks up at me questioningly.
“I’d have to … I’ll have to run home for a dress. How formal is it?” she asks.
“Very formal,” I say with a smug grin, popping a strawberry into my mouth. I love catching her off-guard, making her a little flustered.
She nods, and I can’t help but think about those perfect curves poured into an evening dress. Mabel loads her plate up with pancakes, then disappears into the living room to watch her favorite show.
When she’s gone, I move to stand behind Ginger, running a finger down her neck. Her soft skin instantly breaks out in goosebumps in its wake. I swipe the wispy hairs away from the back of her neck, the ones that have escaped her bun, and bring my lips down to the sweet-smelling spot under her earlobe. I let my hands slide further still, down her shoulders, over her forearms, until I lace my fingers through hers and lift her hands up. The inside of her wrist begs for my lips so I kiss her there once. If yesterday taught me one thing, it’s that life is too short not to take what I want. Maybe this idea is crazy but I’m hoping, no matter how crazy it may be, that she’s willing to jump headfirst into it with me.
“You look fucking beautiful in my kitchen, Mrs. Ashby,” I whisper, offering another kiss to her palm.
Ginger tenses under my touch and I feel a shiver run through her. She lets out a contented sigh at my words and I revel in the electricity between us after last night’s unfinished business.
So many goddamn years of unfinished business. When she turns to face me, and her light chocolate eyes focus on mine, still sort of sleepy but now lust-filled, I instantly know this spark between us could blow every fucking breaker in this house. Just the way she looks at me makes me hard. I may need five cold showers today.
“This is your special day, Cole, and what happened last night … when we … you know, kissed and other things …” Her words are flustered.
“ Other things being you coming right through your clothes?” I ask with a smirk.
She doesn’t laugh. “Yes, well … maybe living through trauma made us hypersensitive or something?”
I scoff. This woman .
“Also, I want to tell you again how sorry I—”
“Ginger.” I put a finger to her plush lips, which, in turn, makes my cock instantly wake right up. “What happened at the cabin yesterday was a freak accident. You need to stop apologizing for something you handled as well as I could’ve.” I grip both her shoulders and look into her eyes. “You’re both okay, and that’s all that matters.”
I trace her soft shoulder with my thumb, wishing I could slide my hands right under her shirt and rip it from her body, ravaging her until I’ve had my fill.
Need takes over, need for her to understand. I grip her hips and tug her close, sliding a hand up to her face and losing my fingers to her hair. I lean into her and breathe in her coconut scent.
“I didn’t kiss you because I was traumatized. I kissed you because I have thought of nothing else since Vegas. I wanted to kiss you. In fact, even with Mabes in the next room, it’s fucking taking everything in me not to kiss you right now. Understand?”
She nods once, then turns her face toward my palm, letting me know she approves of my touch. She looks up at me with the tiniest smirk on her face.
“Well, who am I to stop you from doing what you want? It’s your special day. Which means your rules, Sheriff.” She shrugs, her voice like smoke, and it’s a tempting challenge. Fuck, everything this woman does is sexy as hell.
I hear Mabel shuffle in the next room, so I let my hands slip from Ginger’s shoulders and put some space between us. It’s the very last thing I want to do right now, but I have to control myself.
“That’s a dangerous sentiment to challenge me with,” I say nonchalantly as I move to the other side of the island and start placing pancakes and fruit onto my plate. When it’s clear Mabel isn’t coming in here, Ginger leans over the other side, facing me, her cleavage an invitation.
“Never took you for the kind of man to back down from a challenge, Cole,” she says. She pops a piece of pineapple between her luscious pink lips way slower than warranted, and smiles hazily at me. My cock twitches in response.
Fucking little tease.
I chuckle, then scoop another heap of fruit onto my plate, her last coveted piece of pineapple comes with it. I can bide my time until I get her alone.
“You don’t even like pineapple,” she says, reaching to snatch it away from me playfully. I pull my plate back and set it out of her reach, then pick up the piece of fruit. I look right at her, leaning over the island so our faces are only a few inches apart.
“It’s yours,” I say, popping it into my mouth and leaving it there for the taking. The look she gives in return tells me I’m about to suffer.
I’ve never wanted to suffer more. Right now, I’d beg for it.
Ginger inches forward, pushing her soft tits purposely against my forearms and resting her elbows on the counter. She tilts her head slightly and looks me dead in the eyes before hers flutter closed. She leans in and brushes her lips against mine, as light as a feather, encompassing the fruit as she makes a sucking motion to steal it from me. She trails her tongue slowly over my bottom lip to steal any hint of juice, moaning into me softly. Just like she did last night.
That sound alone almost destroys me.
Fucking hell. She wins.
“So delicious,” she groans in a whisper as she sucks the piece of fruit into her mouth, before opening her eyes, flashing me a grin, and chewing the pineapple right up. Then she backs up like nothing happened and I’m left standing here, dumbfounded. I give my head a shake. Turned on by pineapple. Another first.
I make my way to the other side of the counter and she shrinks a little when she realizes I’m coming straight for her. I pull her to me with enough force to make her breath hitch, but she doesn’t hesitate. My hard cock presses into her abdomen.
“You like to tempt me, Vixen? Just remember what you said,” I whisper, drawing on every shred of willpower I have not to devour her.
She whimpers.
“My day. My rules .”
I let Ginger go, and move back to the other side of the counter, looking right at her as I call out to Mabel.
“Hey Mabes, don’t forget to pack Cowey tonight when you get your things ready to sleep at Nana’s,” I tell her, knowing Ginger has no clue we’ll be alone tonight for the first time since Vegas.
“I won’t, Daddy,” she calls back.
I grin all the way through breakfast, and all the way to the shower, because I know no one takes Ginger Danforth by surprise. And I’m quickly realizing I love to be the man that does.