Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
COLE
It’s been thirty freaking seconds since I asked Natalie if she wanted me to keep her warm.
She still hasn’t answered. If she doesn’t say something soon, I might throw myself on the ground and let whatever amalgam of diseases lingering there take me.
“Natalie?” I ask, pushing through the dry crack of my throat.
Nothing. Just silence. A shaky breath and the final hum of our now deceased heater.
Natalie shivers again and shakes the bed. My hands curl into fists at my sides. I hate that she’s cold and I can’t do anything about it unless she lets me. I hate it so much it physically hurts.
“Listen.” My fake bravado slips since I’m using all my self-restraint to keep myself from turning over and becoming an extra blanket for her. “I didn’t mean to make it weird—it’s just…you’re shaking the bed and I—never mind, I’ll leave you alone.”
Didn’t mean to make it weird. But I did. Story of my freaking life with Natalie. You’d think after years of pining for her I’d have figured out when to shut the fuck up. But I still keep putting my foot in my mouth as soon as she gives me an inch, and I end up pushing her further away.
“Strange, I thought I was the one who made things weird,” she says, a smile laced in her words. “But please don’t go. You’re ri—I’m freezing and I could really use your body heat.”
“Okay.” I gather closer, slow and careful.
My arm curves above her head, my other hand finds her hip.
A sliver of delicate bare skin sears my fingertips where her shirt has ridden up.
My thumb brushes her exposed middrift. She jolts—just a little.
I wait for her to pull away, but she doesn’t instead, her feet intertwine with mine.
“You’re lucky I’m more concerned about warming you up, or I’d point out that you were definitely about to admit that I was right, again. ”
I lean in against her, enough that I begin to drown in her scent. Sugar. Rose. She’s everything sweet and good. It’s a welcome relief from the musty odor of the room.
“You’re insufferable,” she mutters grumpily, but the way she leans into me, her body softening with each passing moment, gives her away.
My fingers graze up and down her arm. Goosebumps raise there. She shivers.
“I could keep you warmer if you turned into me,” I whisper. “Hold on, though.”
Reluctantly, I draw back. All I’ve wanted to do for the past few years is hold this woman, and here I am, chancing that she won’t let me back in after a few seconds away. I don’t care, I need to keep her warm over everything else.
A small whimper comes from Natalie.
“I’ll be right back.” I laugh and savor the sound of her missing me. Finally. “You don’t have to worry about missing me too much.”
“I changed my mind. Go sleep on the quilt, please.”
“And risk you shivering yourself to death?”
“Imagine how peaceful your mornings would be.”
“I’d choose you over peace any day,” I say, reaching up and pulling my black thermal over my head. “I love waking up to you. It’s my favorite part of the day.”
“Your favorite part. Hah! That’s really—” Natalie turns to face me.
Moonlight streaming in through a cracked blind catch her cheekbones, painting them in a silver hue and sparkling in her red hair.
She looks like a goddamn fairy. Her slate eyes take a slow, deliberate sweep of my torso.
Since I’m shameless and pathetic, she’s seen me shirtless plenty of times.
Caden mocks me mercilessly but when she’s over for breakfast, I always run some product through my hair, put my contacts in, and take off my shirt before walking out into the kitchen to see her.
I’ve clung to those five seconds where she checks me out every morning for so long.
But she’s never looked at me like this. Pupils overtake her irises. Her teeth bite her lower lip. “Funny.” The final word to her sentence falls out of her mouth.
I smirk. “Come here, funny girl,” I say, climbing back into bed and sliding my arm under her. I pull her in tight against me. Her skin meets mine and heat explodes between us.
I glide my hand up and down her back. Parts of me that have been screaming for years finally quiet, and I exhale for the first time in forever.
“Cole?” She whispers. Her lips are hovering teasingly close. If I lower my head, I could brush my lips against hers. Take them. Claim them. Show her what I really feel about her.
“Yeah?” I say, clearing my throat.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Because you’ve owned me since I first saw you. Because you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to be around. I trace my thumb over the sliver of silver on her cheek. “Because you’re finally letting me.”
“Would it be okay if I…kept…letting you?”
“Yeah, D’Amore. I’d really like that.”
“About last night,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I clearly misread your signs and I promise not to confuse you being nice to me with actual flirting.”
“You didn’t confuse anything. I’m always flirting with you, tiger.”
“You are?”
I keep brushing my thumb over her cheek, her face feels impossibly right in my palm. “Yeah. I just didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were drunk.”
“Oh.”
A beat. She lifts her chin. I lower my head.
“I’m sober now,” she says.
“So you are,” I whisper before my hand slides into her hair. Her mouth parts for mine, and I take it with far less restraint than I did in the car.
I taste her, drinking her in. Heat rushes through my veins like a wildfire. She presses herself against me and hooks her leg over my hip. My body reacts before my brain registers what I’m doing. Every ache I’ve ever had for her comes to the surface. I become desperate to feel more of her.
She moans into my mouth and there it is every stitch of control becomes undone. I trail my hand down her back, slipping under the hem of her shirt. My fingers graze the soft skin of her lower back.
“Let me know if I need to stop,” I say.
“Please don’t,” she whines. “Touch me more.”
“As you wish,” I smile into her mouth. I run a hand up her back. She pulls me closer, her nails claw into my back like she needs to dig into something to tether her to the moment.
I’m famished. Years of wanting, waiting, and holding back, it all crashes down on me at once.
My hand runs up her abdomen and I grab the most perfect breast I have ever held. My thumb pads her nipple and she sucks in a breath. “Fuck,” she hisses. Her finger hooks into my waistband.
I could ruin her tonight for every other man.
Eat her out. Show her how bad I’ve wanted her.
But…my brain finally catches up with me.
I don’t want her just for tonight. I want her for good.
And our first time—whether it’s me truly tasting her, or feeling inside of her, isn’t going to be in this motel room.
“Shit, got carried away.” I self-consciously laugh, pulling away. “We should—we should get some sleep.”
“Oh yeah. Sleep. Right,” she says, gasping for air. “Uhm, thanks…for that…”
“You never have to thank me for kissing you. Whenever you want me, just ask.”
She relaxes a bit and laughs into my chest. “And say what? Cole, can you make out with me?”
“I’d respond positively.” I brush a small kiss on her lips. “See?”
“Maybe we could have a codeword.”
“I love you, Cole Sinclair, would work.”
“Too unrealistic,” she says. “What about Cole Sinclair, can you shut up and use your mouth for good?”
“Ouch! See if I keep you warm and risk certain death in a run-down motel ever again.”
“I’m sorry, by the way, about this whole mess,” she murmurs, but I can feel her drifting off to sleep—like the part of her that lives inside of me is also tucking themselves into a bed and fading to sleep too.
“Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry for this. I’d brave this room a thousand times over just to hold you.” I kiss the top of her head. “Good night, Natalie.”
Her breath is heavy, and I fall asleep counting the rise and fall of her chest. Overwhelmed that I live in the same timeline as her.