Chapter 3
Miranda
I skid to a dead stop as Cole's deep blue eyes lock onto mine. The kitchen door swings back and smacks me forward, launching me straight to the counter in front of Cole with an unattractive "Ooof!"
He reaches out quickly, pulling my upper body toward him to keep me from smacking my head on the counter. Bringing me straight to eye level with his amused grin.
Before I can stop myself, I inhale his scent. He smells like earth and spiciness, transporting me back to a college dorm room, my hands gripping plaid flannel sheets carrying the same scent. His skin on mine, sweaty and hot. And perfect.
"Thank you," I whisper. My already hot and bothered panties would burst into flames if humanly possible.
The air is charged between us as I take deeper breaths than necessary and try not to look at his lips. Unsuccessfully, I might add.
I finally disengage myself and he lets me go. He's wearing jeans and a T-shirt, displaying a thick cord of muscles trailing up to yummy biceps. I want to lick him, and the thought of finding out if his ab day is as strong as his arm day makes me weak at the knees. I steady myself, reaching out to the counter in front of me.
"Hi, Cole," I say breathily, like I want to fuck him. So, there's that.
Cole flashes me a sexy grin. "You remember me?"
"Of course. We hung out in college." Immediately, I know it came out too nonchalant. Like he was the janitor I saw around the building occasionally.
"Hung out in college?" he repeats, eyes narrowing.
I bite my lip to keep an unbidden smile at bay.
"By 'hung out'"—he uses air quotes—"do you mean went on a date and had incredible sex? More than once that night, if memory serves. And my memory of our night together is cemented in stone. Partly because of that move you did with your finger." He winks, and I blush, knowing exactly what move he means. "But mainly because the next morning, I woke up to find you gone. So gone that you ghosted me and everyone we knew, cleaned out your art studio, and withdrew from college overnight?"
My blush deepens and my heart is about to burst at knowing he remembered our night together.
"Wow," I say, all breathy again and a little pleased with myself. And because I'm a monster, "Incredible sex, huh?"
His eyebrow lifts. "It wasn't?"
Instead of responding, I turn and busy myself by the register so he can't see my face. His footsteps heighten my anticipation as he comes around the counter, and I turn to see his eyes hooded with lust. He stalks me backward, my heart racing. Desire pings through my body, zipping around like it's trying to find a spot to land. And then it does. Right between my legs.
I brace myself on the counter as he backs me against it. Placing one large hand on the small of my back, he positions his hips against mine.
Cole eyes my mouth for what feels like an eternity, his body hot against mine as I try to control my breathing. I've given up attempting logic. Hell, forming words at this point is asking too much. All the blood in my body has been in the southern region since this morning anyway, so let's feed the beast. Now I want him to kiss me. Desperately.
And the way his gaze stays locked on my lips as my tongue darts out to wet them makes me think a kiss is in my near future.
Cole lifts his blue eyes to mine, flitting across my face like he's trying to memorize me. "Nowhere to run," he growls.
"Who's running?" I don't recognize the sassy sex voice coming from me, but fuck, yes. Go me!
Chuckling softly, his whole face lights up with the smile I remember like yesterday, and my heart squeezes. Placing my palm against his cheek, he nuzzles into it like he needs my touch as much as I need his. My mind races back to all the nights with mutual friends, eyeing him across the table or ensuring I sat close to him on whatever couch we were inevitably hanging out on.
All the carefree college nights before my whole world changed.
Tamping those thoughts down, I look up at him through my lashes. I'm not that young girl anymore. I know how to ask for what I want now. And what I want now is hot sex in my coffee shop.
His fingers run lightly over my back, leaving little streaks of heat like lava through the soft cotton of my shirt. My nipples harden to tight points, aching from the light touch of the fabric. I rub my chest against him, trying to get some friction, and he smiles.
He leans down to my ear, tickling my neck with his breath, sending a shudder over my body. "If you don't want me to kiss you, you better say something right now." Pulling back to look me in the eye but still so close to giving me what I want, he continues. "No disappearing this time, little ghost. If I kiss you, I'm not letting you go."
Too late to process what he said, I close the distance. My mouth is on his, kissing him like he's headed off to war, and I might never see him again. He fights for control, his tongue licking into my mouth, and he groans.
"Miranda," he says my name reverently before his tongue tangles with mine again.
The throbbing between my legs grows stronger. I reach for his shirt, whimpering at the solid washboard he calls a stomach. I lean down to lick my way up his abs onto his chest, flicking my tongue over his nipple as I pull his shirt up.
He pulls it off the rest of the way one-handed, and I moan as he kisses me again, pulling me against his bare, chiseled chest. Deft fingers unclasp my bra. His hot mouth and tongue run down the side of my neck and throat, and my breathing is heavy as I push him back slightly.
"The windows. We can't do this here."
He pulls me toward him and spins me against the counter, closer to the kitchen. Kissing up my neck, he pinches my nipples before soothing them with gentle brushes of his thumbs. "Maybe I want people to see. See that you are mine ."
He runs his hands up my thigh, lifting the bottom of my skirt as he hooks a finger in my panties to torture me. My eyes roll back in my head as his finger brushes once, twice, right where I want him to touch me.
I pull him closer. "I need you to fuck me."
"I should make you beg me for the torture you put me through. Eight. Years. Of. Torture." He kisses my neck, punctuating each word with a nip to the sensitive skin.
Oh, sir. If he thinks begging is a punishment, he's dead fucking wrong.
"Please, please, please, fuck me. Fuck me so hard. I deserve it. I'm so fucking bad." I plead like a wanton pro and can't help but grin at his startled reaction.
His body is positioned between mine and the windows, and I snake my hand down the front of his pants and grip the flashlight prodding my stomach for the past few minutes.
"Oh fuck," he groans as I use my thumb to slick the precum over the head of his cock.
I lower his zipper and pump him once, twice, feeling him swell in my hand. Lowering his pants, I drop to my knees and pull out his cock. Like a velvet-covered steel rod, the red glistening tip makes my mouth water.
Licking up the side, I follow the thick vein that tells me the blood is flowing right where I need it. I suck the entire head of his cock into my mouth and swirl my tongue around the tip. Hollowing my cheeks, I take him in, but not quite as far as I can go yet.
He braces himself on the counter with one hand, the other tangling into my hair as he caresses the back of my head. Glancing at the windows, he shifts a bit to hide me completely, and I reward him for the courtesy by bobbing on his cock. Giving him some suction as he moans, I stroke up with my hand, following my mouth with each pump.
As I get a rhythm going, he pulls on my hair. I moan, humming with satisfaction as he groans and begins moving my head where he wants it, thrusting into my mouth slightly like he's holding back. I relax the back of my throat and take him even farther, gazing up at him as he locks eyes with me and curses from the pleasure.
While he's trying desperately not to thrust too hard into my mouth, I reach between my legs. My eyes squeeze shut with pleasure as I brush my clit, rubbing my pinky finger through my wet folds until it's dripping.
I run my hand up his tight, perfect ass before circling the rim of his back entrance with my pinky, barely breaching him.
"Fuck, I'm coming!" he yells, exploding down my throat.
I swallow, relishing the salty taste of him coating my tongue.
He's panting when I pull back to look at him, and he rolls his eyes. "Well, that was embarrassingly fast. I see you remember the finger thing."
I chuckle as he repositions his underwear and hauls me up his body. "You goddamn siren."
Cole walks me backward into the kitchen, still carefully keeping me hidden from the windows. The heat in his eyes promises to give me exactly what I need. I bite my lip, hoping he can follow through.
He stops in front of the big metal prep table in the middle of the kitchen. His strong hand slides up the outside of my thigh and around, where he grips one cheek hard before he pulls my panties down. I whimper with anticipation.
"Good thing I have excellent recovery time."