34. Cole
THIRTY-FOUR
Cole
Her mouth opens under mine, and it’s all I need.
My good hand moves fast, fisting the back of her tank top and pulling her between my legs. Her body crashes into mine, warm and soft and trembling.
She's fisting my shirt, tugging me closer. There’s no slow build. No tentative steps. It’s need, unfiltered and sharp, pouring out of both of us.
I shift on the stool, adjusting to brace her weight as she presses in. My injured arm stays tight against my chest, but my other hand finds her hip, then slides up under her shirt.
Her skin is hot and smooth, and when my fingers graze the underside of her breast, she gasps.
I pull back just enough to see her face.
“You sure?”
She answers by dragging her shirt over her head and tossing it behind her. There's no hesitation, and no question.
I stand, backing her toward the counter. She hops up without being told, her legs wrapping around my hips like we never missed a day .
“You’ve been in my head every single day since the last time I saw you,” I murmur against her neck. My lips brush her skin, just beneath her ear.
"Oh, yeah?"
“Every time I closed my eyes, it was you.”
She tilts her head back, giving me more. “Show me what you did when you saw me.”
I pull back just enough to look at her. My hand stays gripped on her hip, fingers digging into that spot I used to kiss after dragging her panties down.
“I gripped my cock so hard I saw stars.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak.
“I stroked it slowly, like I was between your legs again. Like I could taste you. Like I could still feel how tight you get right before you come.”
She exhales sharply, but her body leans in, needing more.
“I came into my hand thinking about your mouth. Thinking about how you used to beg for more even when you couldn’t take it.”
I press my forehead to hers, breathing hard now.
“Want me to show you?”
She nods her head yes.
My hand slides up her side, tugging her damp sports bra over her head. Her nipples are already tight and hard. I take one between my lips, sucking slowly, then hard.
Her gasp is sharp and unfiltered, her fingers curling into my hair like she needs to anchor herself.
“This is what I imagined,” I murmur against her skin, flicking my tongue over the peak before switching to the other. “Me on my knees, mouth on you, tasting you”
She whimpers, tilting her hips forward, her whole body strung tight .
I slide my hand down between us and press my fingers into the waistband of her shorts. “You're mine.”
I jerk her slightly, tugging her shorts over her ass. She lifts just enough to let them fall to the floor. No panties.
Fuck me.
She cups my jaw, eyes blazing. “I want to see you.”
I don’t ask what she means. I stand, tug off my shirt with one hand, then shove my shorts down. My cock is already hard, flushed, and leaking.
Her eyes drop. A soft moan slips past her lips. “Did you jerk off thinking about me?”
I grip my cock, slow and deliberate, letting her watch. “Every. Fucking. Night.”
"Show me."
I stroke once, then again, slow enough she can see the way it affects me. The way my muscles tense. The way my jaw clenches.
"What was I doing when you were thinking about me? How did you see me?"
“I thought about bending you over that deck railing,” I say, voice low and rough.
"Oh, yeah? You want to fuck me over the railing?"
“God, yes. Your legs are shaking, and your nails are digging into the wood. You're begging me not to stop even when you couldn’t take another inch.”
She pulls me closer, her breath hitting my chest. Her fingers trail down my stomach and stop just short of touching.
“Keep going.”
I squeeze harder, precum gliding down my shaft. I stroke again, watching her eyes darken as she bites her bottom lip.
She doesn’t move. Just watches. Her eyes are fixed, breath shallow, like this is some kind of confession she’s craved for weeks.
“You’re not touching me?” I rasp.
Her voice is tight. “Not yet.”
I keep going. My palm glides over the head, and I groan. “This is what I did. Right here. I pictured your mouth wrapped around me. You’re on your knees, begging for it. Eyes all wide and wet.”
Her thighs press together. She doesn’t even realize it.
“You’d take every drop. You wanted more.”
She gasps, hips twitching forward.
I release a ragged breath and slide my hand between her legs. She’s soaked, dripping down her thighs. The heat of her against my fingers makes my cock throb.
“Jesus, Sam,” I groan.
"Cole…."
“You’re so fucking ready.”
“Then stop teasing. I need you inside me.” Her voice cracks, and she opens her legs wider for me.
“Two months.”
I rub tight circles over her clit, slow and steady. “Still sensitive right here?”
She shudders. “Fuck. Yes.”
“You want me to go slow?” I tease, easing a finger inside her. “Or do you want it the way we both need it?”
She grabs my wrist. “Hard. Deep. Right now.”
I smile against her throat. “That’s what I thought.”
Her fingers grip the back of my neck, her breath catching with each pass of my thumb over her clit.
I bend, take her nipple in my mouth, and suck hard. She moans, arching into me.
Her legs tighten around me. “Condom?”
“Wallet. My jeans.”
“Then fucking hurry. ”
I step back just long enough to grab it, hand it to her to rip the foil, and roll it on. My hand shakes. I haven’t felt like this since her.
She’s moved to the couch, sprawled out now. Her chest rises and falls fast, thighs parted and glistening.
I kneel between her legs and drag my tongue up the inside of her thigh. She jerks like she’s about to come just from that. My good hand grips her hips, holding her still as I lick higher, tasting her, breathing her in. It’s addictive and dizzying and fucking heaven.
“Cole,” she chokes out. “Please.”
I pull her closer, let my fingers slide up to her clit and circle once more, just to hear her cry out. Then again. Then again. She’s trembling under my touch, hips lifting off the cushion, wild for more.
I rise, bracing a hand beside her head. I kiss her deeply, filthily, and desperately. Her teeth catch my bottom lip. I groan into her mouth.
I guide myself to her entrance, not pushing in yet. Just sliding against her, coating myself in everything she’s giving me. I feel her shudder under me.
“You want it,” I whisper against her lips.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure.”
She locks her legs around my waist. “I’ve never been more sure.”
Then I push in.
“Fuck,” I whisper, pressing deeper.
“Harder,” she growls, digging her nails into my back.
I grab her ass and drive in. Again. Again. Her body bucks against mine, wild and sharp. She leans back on her hands, taking me deeper.
Every thrust is rough and desperate and apologetic in a way words could never be .
“I hate you,” she pants, right before her legs start to shake.
“Hate me,” I grit out, fucking her harder.
Her head drops back. “I’m still coming.”
And she does, loudly, clutching me, her body tight and slick and shaking.
I follow seconds later, teeth clenched, hips stuttering.
We don’t move, not right away. Her forehead rests against mine, and our breath mingles in the air between us.
Her eyes are still closed, and her voice is quiet when she speaks. “This was a rage fuck, nothing more.”
Her voice is shaky, and her words aren't sharp or cruel. It’s like she’s trying to convince herself more than to inform me.
The taste of her is still on my tongue when she sits up fast. Her breath comes in short gasps as she tries to untangle herself. A throw blanket is somehow twisted under her arms.
Her beautiful cheeks are flushed pink from what just happened. She’s never looked more stunning than she does right now.
Once the blanket is untwisted, she pulls it up, trying to cover herself. I don't move from where I'm sprawled across the couch. My hand stays on her bare thigh because I'm not ready to break the connection yet.
Nothing more , she said. But the way she's looking at me right now says something different.
The front door squeaks open.
"I brought bribes in the form of oat milk lattes. Don't say I never do anything for you."
A woman's voice that is familiar but I can't quite place carries from the entryway. It's casual and completely unaware of what she's walking into.
Sam freezes beside me. "Shit. "
I lift my head, more curious than panicked. I've been caught in worse situations than this.
It's Arden. I see her before she sees us.
Footsteps cross the hardwood. She rounds the corner into the living room and stops dead.
Her eyes sweep over us. Sam is flushed and disheveled.
I'm bare-chested and completely unbothered.
The unmistakable glint of a used condom wrapper sits right there on the floor beside us.
"Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry." Arden stares at the scene, seemingly paralyzed momentarily.
Sam lunges forward, grabbing the wrapper and shoving it under a magazine on the coffee table. "It's not—it just happened."
"Morning," I offer without an ounce of shame.
Arden snorts and holds out one of the coffees. "You're gonna need this."
She sets it down on the table and turns back toward the door.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't see that and go walk it off on the beach."
Her voice fades as she walks right back out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Sam groans and buries her face in her hands. "Oh my God."
I chuckle beside her. "Could've been worse."
"How?" Her voice is muffled by her palms.
"She could've walked in five minutes earlier and heard you yelling at me to fuck you harder."
Sam's shoulders shake, and for a second, I think she's crying. Then I realize she's laughing.
"This is insane. You destroyed my life, I moved to another state to get away from you, and the first time I see you again, we're doing it like rabbits in the light of day on my couch," she says into her hands .
"You forgot to add in that you tried to sever my arm in two."
Her hands drop, and she glares at me. “Shit. I forgot. Let me see it.”
I hold out my arm. The skin is an angry mix of red and purple, a goose egg swelling where the door hit. She presses her thumb into the bruise. I jerk back with a hiss, muffling a scream.
“What the hell was that?”
“I needed to make sure it wasn’t broken.”
“Jesus. That hurt more than the damn door.”
She grins. “Good. You deserved that. Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing. You got hurt on purpose, so I’d feel bad.”
“Did it work?”
“It worked, you smug bastard.”
“I may be a bastard, but I’m not smug. I’m just not pretending this didn’t mean something.”
“It can’t mean something, Cole.”
“Why not?”
She stands suddenly, grabbing her shirt off the floor and yanking it over her head.
“Because you lied to me the entire time we were together. Because you bought my hospital, acted like you didn't, and you’re chopping it up. Because you made me fall for you while you were destroying everything I cared about.”
Made me fall for you.
She tugs on her pants and walks to the window, arms crossed tight over her chest. I watch her stare out toward the water.
That one lands like a blow right to my lungs. No matter what I do to try to fix this, that remains. I destroyed everything she ever cared about .
“I’m not involved anymore. I resigned. From the board. From Kings Holdings.”
She turns, arms still folded. “You resigned? Is that more business spin to make it sound noble while you’re still pulling strings behind the scenes?”
“No. It means I walked away completely. I gave up my board seat, resigned from the company, and took my name off the filings. I have no say in what they do next.”
Her eyes narrow skeptically. So I keep going.
"Why now? None of this matters, now that the vote is through. The damage is done, Cole."
“There was a reporter who was closing in. She was going to run a big exposé. She had most of it: the shell company, the vote, the deal. She even knew about you.”
“She called me.”
“Jesus. I was hoping I got to her before she did.” My stomach turns.
“I didn't talk to her.”
“I’m sorry. That’s exactly what I was trying to prevent. I made her a deal. I told her I’d go on the record if she would keep you out of it. I gave her everything, told her it was me behind the deal, that I was the one who stood to profit.”
She watches me, expression unreadable.
"Why would you do that? You're so good at hedging. Isn't that what you're supposed to do in that situation?"
“It was the only way to get her to leave you out of it. Your name, our relationship, all of it.”
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“I know it looks like I took the hit for the company, like I fell on the sword for Kings Holdings.”
I step closer, voice steady now.
“But that’s not why I did it. I didn’t care what it cost me. I just didn’t want you dragged down with me. ”
She doesn’t look at me. But she doesn’t walk away either.
“I did it for you, Sam.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she shakes her head.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“I can’t let myself believe you. I want to. But I can’t.” Her voice catches.
"You can."
“You’re good at saying the right thing, Cole. But you already proved I can’t trust you.”
"Sam, please. Let me?—"
"You should go, Cole. We should leave everything in the past."
She says it like it's already decided, like the outcome is already baked in.
And maybe it is.
Because no matter what I’ve done to try to fix this, the only thing that matters is the most important thing I broke.
Her trust.