Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
T he day finall y caught up with me. A yawn escaped my lips as I rested my head on a couch pillow, tucking my hands under my head. I curled my legs into a V, my eyes fluttering closed. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the warmth and coziness of the room lulled me into a deep slumber. That and the beer.
Was it three bottles or four?
Regardless, it was one too many. I rarely drank. Only occasionally at parties that Frankie dragged me to. She literally had to beg, bribe, and kidnap me into going. I still questioned how Frankie and I were best friends. We couldn’t be more opposite except when it came to being born to families who struggled. Our lack of money was why we bonded. That and being raised by single parents. For Frankie, it was her dad who ran out on them. Well, if you call serving time in prison running out.
I snuggled deeper into the softness underneath me, not yet ready to wake up, but a light scratching pestered the first peace I’d had in too long, pulling me out of a pleasant dream. It had been months since I slept without a nightmare. Years perhaps. I couldn’t remember. My nights were always tortured by guilt and horror.
I had no idea what time it was or how long I’d slept.
My lashes fluttered, and where I expected to find streams of light and my bed underneath me, darkness continued to invade the room. Was it still night? Had I not slept as long as I thought?
I blinked, the toasty air making the blanket draped over me unnecessary, and yet, my body wasn’t overheated. And this wasn’t my bedroom. Wind whistled as a light tapping reverberated against the windows.
The Rileys.
Cole.
The thought pulled my gaze up, my eyes finding him in the dark. He sat on the coffee table, closer than I liked. His head was bent over a sketch pad. Serious lines creased his forehead, and a lock of dark hair fell to one side. His fingers worked over the paper, a piece of charcoal in his hand. I couldn’t look away. The glow from the fire cast shadows on half of his face. This was a side of Cole I never expected—a softer, creative side. He put me in a quandary. Was he the devil? Or a hidden artist? It reminded me how little I knew of Cole.
Using his thumb, he smeared the pad over the page, and I longed to see what he drew. What was his inspiration?
His gaze lifted from the paper to me, and his fingers ceased moving. As cliché as it was, I stopped breathing. The way he looked at me left me confused.
Rumpled from sleep, my hair needed a brush, my face probably had pillow markings on it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d been snoring before I woke up, and yet…Cole’s gaze made me feel more beautiful than I’d ever felt.
I remained still, captured by him, and the intensity in his eyes held my breath.
Neither of us said a word, but a whole lot transpired between us. Most of which I didn’t understand.
Something sparked in his eyes, and my heart raced, tingles moving into places they had no right dwelling.
Fucking hell. Why him? Why did it have to be him?
My face got hot.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek to squash the arousal aching within me. “What are you doing?” I rasped.
His gaze returned to the page, the piece of charcoal moving in purposeful strokes. “Don’t move. I need another ten minutes. ”
Was he drawing me? “To do what?” I asked, uncertain how I felt about being the subject of his art.
Our gaze met again, just briefly. “Capture you. Close your eyes,” he demanded.
“I can’t now that I know you’re watching me,” I murmured.
His mouth remained a thin line, but amusement danced in the flecks of gold in his irises. “Close them, Killer.”
I did as he asked but not before rolling my eyes first, the wisping of charcoal on paper oddly calming, and after a few moments, I relaxed. “You draw?”
“If the mood strikes.”
My body wanted to fidget, not liking being made to stay still on command. “Can I see it?”
“For a price,” he replied.
My eyes flew open. “Don’t even say it,” I warned. His price would be a kiss. I’d hoped he’d forgotten our silly bet.
Cole’s lips quirked. “You moved.” His hand shot forward so fast that I didn’t have time to react, and before I knew it, he clutched my chin, tilting it just a fraction. “Stay.”
My jaw clenched, and a zip of anger lanced through me. “I’m not a puppy. I don’t follow your commands.”
“You’re in my house,” he reminded, daring me with a look to disobey him.
I jerked my chin out from his grasp, tossing the blanket off my legs as I sat up. “I don’t want to be here. Trust me.”
The fireplace flames were gone, but the wood burned in an amber glow, and the taper candles had burned to only an inch of life left. “As soon as the power comes back on, we’ll both get what we want.”
This position wasn’t better than lying had been. Our knees bumped, and I shifted mine so they weaved in and out with his. Again, a bad decision on my part. It seemed no matter how I moved, he was too damn close. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He took the pad of his thumb and brushed it down my cheek. His eyes went to my lips, and my brain warned me I treaded in dangerous territory, but my body rejoiced at his nearness. “You know what I want.”
I shook my head. “You’re relentless. ”
With a wicked grin, he sat back, his hand dropping from my face. “And you need a shower.” He held up his fingers that had been touching me.
I frowned at the dark blots of charcoal staining his hand.
“Art looks good on you.”
“Funny,” I retorted dryly, but what I’d almost said was it looked better on him. “Which bathroom can I use?”
“Mine.”
“Which one is yours?”
He gave me a cheeky grin. “I’ll show you.” He held out a hand.
Staring at his outstretched hand, I chewed on the corner of my lip. What would it hurt? I was already smeared with smudges. I put my hand in his and let him pull me up from the couch.
He grabbed a flashlight from the table and flicked it on, illuminating the path ahead. We took the stairs to the second floor, and although little light shone, I could picture the white walls and wooden beams patterned on the high ceilings. We passed by open doors, each bedroom decorated with airy curtains I knew danced with the ocean breeze when opened. One side had stunning sunrise views, and the other had sunset views overlooking the water.
Cole’s room faced the ocean, but the view was obstructed by the hurricane shutters. If he hadn’t shown me the way, I would have guessed this was his room. The scent gave it away, awakening my senses. That and the dark, gloomy, foreboding drawings hung on the walls.
An urge to take the light from Cole and examine the art more closely rose in me so sharply I reached for the flashlight. My fingers grazed Cole’s, and a spark went through my hand. I jerked away, my gaze flying to his.
God, what had I been thinking?
I hadn’t. And that was the problem.
My throat cleared, breaking the silence as Cole studied me.
“There are towels in the bathroom,” he informed me, setting the sketch pad down on the bed.
I nodded, my tongue tied.
The more uncomfortable I got, the more Cole seemed to enjoy it. “If you want company, I’d be happy to?— ”
“I’m fine,” I interrupted before he could finish his outlandish offer. “I’m more afraid of you than the dark.”
He snickered, passing the flashlight to me. “Wise girl.”
I shot him an impudent glare.
Plopping on the bed, he stretched out like a ferocious cat. “Make it quick. We only have a limited amount of hot water. Once it’s gone, it won’t be heated again until the power returns.”
How did I feel about Cole being in the next room while I showered? Only a measly door separating us?
Mixed feelings.
I hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door with a snap behind me. I stayed staring at the knob half expecting it to shake. It didn’t, and after I dragged a long breath in, I turned away from the door, using my flashlight to scan the room. I needed a better word than huge to describe the size of the bathroom. Massive? Colossal? Mammoth?
I bet Cole is huge.
And why the fuck had my brain gone there? Why was I suddenly thinking about the size of his dick? It made no sense. How had my brain connected a bathroom to male anatomy?
I groaned into my hands.
This had to stop. I wouldn’t allow any further inappropriate thoughts to encroach my mind.
Moving to the shower, I turned on the water and stripped, catching sight of my reflection and the smudges smeared on my face. “Asshole,” I seethed and stepped into the steam.
I should use all the hot water to spite him. Who did he think he was ordering me about? And this stupid bet. Why was I letting it taunt me?
So much for controlling my thoughts when it came to Cole. I felt like a stalker unable to stop obsessing.
I squeezed a glob of shampoo into my hair, making the mistake of breathing it in and regretting it. His scent flooded the shower. I could ignore this. I was strong. Smelling like him for a few hours couldn’t be that hard. The power had to come on soon. I couldn’t entertain the alternative.
Click .
I halted my movements, my sudsy fingers entangled in my wet hair, and listened. Had that been the door? I locked it, hadn’t I?
Now I wasn’t so sure.
“Cole?” I called loud enough to be heard over the shower.
“You should learn to lock the door,” Cole warned in a deep, sharp-edged voice. “You never know what kind of creep might stumble in after you.”
A normal person wouldn’t feel relief, and yet knowing it was Cole and not someone else eased the spring of panic. “What are you doing? If this is some kind of deranged lesson, I don’t need it.” Suds trickled down the side of my face.
“I never got to finish my piece. I was thinking a nude might be more representative of our first encounter,” he said, his voice carrying over the pelting water.
I poked my head out of the shower, glaring at the man leaning against the wall, looking too comfortable. “You’ll have to do that one from memory.”
The gold flecks in his eyes sparkled as his gaze traced lower, and despite the frosted doors concealing me, it felt as if he could see through them. “I might need a second glance to get all the details accurate. The lines of a woman’s body are so tricky.”
I flushed at his words. “You’re not winning this bet, Cole,” I ground out, my wet fingers clutching the shower door.
The look he gave me was pure trouble. “I’m sure you’d change your mind if you saw me naked.”
I choked but shook my head and quickly recovered. “You ever had your balls sliced with a razor? You have a pretty sharp one in here.”
He toyed with the hoop on his bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners. “Cruel, Killer. And so damn hot.”
“If you’re done tormenting me, can I finish my shower?” I closed the glass door, my way of dismissing him, but what I needed was a moment to gain control of myself before I did something foolish. Like pull him into the shower with me, clothes and all, not that they would stay on for long.
Ducking my head under the hot spray, I rinsed the bubbles from my hair, pretending to go about my business when I was tensely listening for his exit. Or his entrance.
I didn’t know which one I leaned toward.
The smart choice would be to tell him to get out. Again. I remained silent, waiting.
My breath stalled as his shadow moved closer to the shower. What did I want? And why couldn’t I make up my mind?
When the suds were gone from my hair, Cole said, “I left you some clothes on the counter.” The door clicked softly behind him.
Exhaling, I pressed my forehead against the shower wall, willing my body to calm. I’d been excited, turned on even, and the feeling remained.
What the hell is he doing to me?
Since I’d woken up, I’d been in a perpetual state of arousal. I had no intention of kissing Cole Riley. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. My body needed to get on board.
I wanted to blame it on my sad sex life. It had been too long since I’d been with a guy. I wasn’t good with relationships. Sex was different. I was exceptionally good at doing the deed. It was the after stuff and everything in between I sucked at.
I had to deal with my hormones or risk being seduced by the moody sex god.
My finger slipped between my lips as I turned, pressing my back into the tile. Water rained over my skin, but I was already wet. I wouldn’t think of him. I wouldn’t picture his face, his lips, his hands. Nothing about Cole would enter my mind.
One problem.
I smelled like him.