Chapter Four
ALICE
I’d been kissed before. I’m thirty-three years old. I’d been married. Of course, I’d been kissed. A lot, if not in a while.
I’d never, ever been kissed like Cooper kissed me.
I handle Human Resources at Sinclair Security.
I don’t hire and fire, but if you want to know about health benefits or how to handle harassment, I’m your girl.
If an employee came to me and said her boss kissed her I would have told her to remove herself from the situation, to tell him firmly that such behavior is inappropriate and immediately submit a written report.
That’s what I would have said.
That was not what I did. Not at all.
At the touch of Cooper’s mouth to mine, any thought that this was a coma delusion evaporated. No delusion felt this real, this warm and alive. This hungry. This needy. This passionate.
His breath hitched at the touch of our lips, igniting something in me that had smoldered for years. So many years.
Everything inside me ground to a halt at that touch, my very heart ceasing to beat for the longest moment—for an eternity—as the universe shifted on its axis.
I drew in a breath, and the world slammed back into place, shifting from a dead stop to high-speed in one lurching heartbeat.
I reached for Cooper, my fingers sinking into his hair, pulling his face to mine, kissing him, tasting him, driving my tongue into his mouth to stroke his.
Cooper.
Fucking hell, Cooper.
Who knew Cooper would taste so good? Would feel so right? He was too big, too distant, too much my boss. None of that mattered. He was right.
He pulled me against him, my breasts pressing to his chest, my throat vibrating with groans. His mouth fastened to mine, demanding and possessive.
I gave as good as I got, my hands wandering to yank at his T-shirt. I wanted his skin, the heat and strength of him. I wanted to touch, to taste.
I was barely aware of my arms flying over my head, cool air brushing my heated skin, the whisper of my camisole and hoodie hitting the kitchen island. Cooper’s T-shirt followed, every rasp of his chest hair against my nipples sparking tiny explosions of bliss.
There was so much of him. I pressed myself against his chest until I thought our skin would meld together, wanting to suffuse myself with him. His taste. The ocean scent of him.
His arm going tight around my back, Cooper lowered me to the cool granite counter, settling my head on a makeshift pillow of our discarded clothes.
He protected my still-tender head from the unforgiving granite countertop even in his haze of desperate lust.
Cooper.
I was aware of it only in the most distant of ways, most of my attention on his hands, tugging at the fabric at my hips, stripping me, leaving me naked and spread out before him like a pagan offering.
His eyes locked on my body splayed before him, he groaned my name. “Alice. Fuck, Alice. So fucking beautiful.”
I couldn’t make words form in my head, much less come out of my mouth. Cooper stood naked between my legs, all muscle and smooth, tanned skin. Cooper, his ice-blue eyes molten hot and fixed on me. Cooper.
Then he was on me, his mouth on my breast, drawing on my nipple, kneading and molding my other breast with his long fingers.
I wrapped my legs around him, drawing him closer, the length of his erection pressed against my core, already slick with desire. Desperate. So fucking desperate, I rolled my hips into him, and he shuddered in my arms.
Lifting his head from my breast, his words were barely more than a rumble in his chest. “Alice. I need you to say it. Do you want this? Do you want me?”
“Cooper.” That was all I could force out, his name a plea. He had to ask? He had to know how much I wanted him, had to feel my slick heat soaking his cock as it rubbed against me. I loved that he asked anyway. He rocked his hips into me before he spoke.
“Alice. I want to fuck you. To fill you with me. To mark you as mine. I need you to know that. I need you to tell me you want it too.”
I spoke the truth of my body, though my brain was speechless. “Yes. Yes, Cooper. Please.”
That was all he needed. His mouth took mine in a kiss of possession. Of triumph, of heat and need. His knuckles brushed the inside of my thigh as he moved his cock into position and thrust his hips forward.
At the stretch of his cock pushing inside me, I wrenched my lips from his, arching my back with a long deep moan. “Oh, God. Cooper. Cooper.”
He froze, his lips a whisper against my neck. “Too much?”
“So good. So good, Cooper. Please. Please, Cooper. More. Oh, God, Cooper.”
I couldn’t seem to shut my mouth, couldn’t stop babbling, everything in my brain and my body short-circuiting from the sheer bliss of his cock filling me up.
I’d been empty for so long. My whole life I’d been empty, and Cooper—his arms around me, his cock inside me—Cooper filled me up. Filled me to overflowing.
When I’d taken every inch of him, he circled his hips, grinding into my clit, splinters of pleasure slicing through my body, drawing another long, low groan from my lips.
His mouth at my ear, he rocked into me, murmuring nothing and everything. “Fuck, Alice, Alice, Alice. So good, Alice. I can’t— I need you to come for me.”
His mouth on mine, his hand slipped beneath me, tilting my hips, grinding into me as his tongue danced with mine. It was too much. It was everything.
I exploded, screaming into his kiss, my brain whiting out as his hips jerked against mine and he joined me in a release we’d been waiting for forever.
I came back to myself at that now-familiar sensation of floating, of swinging through the air. Cooper carrying me. Again. And this time, different.
This time, instead of cradling me against him, my legs were wrapped around his waist. This time I had no thought of protest, no desire to walk by myself.
I draped myself over him, my arms loose around his neck, my sweaty cheek glued to his shoulder.
His cock was still half-hard inside of me, each step sending bolts of pleasure through my body.
Cooper carried me straight into his oversized, glassed-in shower, turning on the water, letting it wash away the sweat and the aftermath of sex. I tried to think, to say something. Anything.
No condom. That thought managed to slice through the cloud of lust and satisfaction in my brain. I had an IUD, got tested for everything after I’d left my husband, and hadn’t slept with anyone since then.
I knew the guys all got regular physicals. I was the one who scheduled them and paid the bills. And I knew Cooper. He’d remembered to protect my head from the hard counter even as he’d been tearing off my clothes. He never would have skipped a condom if it would put me at risk.
Hell, he probably had my medical records, the sneaky bastard. Probably knew I was protected from pregnancy and safe to fuck bare. I didn’t care except to be glad we didn’t need to worry about condoms. Now that I’d felt him skin to skin, nothing else would do.
A small part of me tried to speak up. But what about—?
What about nothing.
Sensible Alice could shut the hell up.
This felt too good for sensible Alice to get in the way.
Cooper’s hands moved over me, his mouth at my neck, warm water raining over us. He still hadn’t put me down. He lifted me off his cock, his hand moving between my legs, letting the water wash us clean, before he sat on the deep bench in the corner, still holding me in his arms.
Water streaming over us, he kissed me in endless, drugging kisses, his strong hands moving over my body until he lifted me, bringing me down onto his hard cock.
My head spun as he dipped me back over his arm and feasted on my breasts, my hips rocking, orgasm washing through my body once, then again.
I was barely aware of him setting me on my feet, cleaning me, and turning off the water. We slid beneath the sheets of his bed and I passed out, my still-damp body draped over Cooper’s, my mouth pressed to the pulse in his throat, his heartbeat lulling me to sleep.
Sometime later, my eyes opened in the dark, the glow of the moon barely penetrating the curtains.
Reality slammed into me like a freight train.
This was no coma delusion.
The soreness between my legs, the dull throb in my head, and Cooper’s long body splayed beside mine were all too real.
What was I supposed to do now?
Did I stay?
Was this a thing now? Was I having sex with Cooper?
My body gave an involuntary shudder as those words formed in my head.
Sex with Cooper.
It sounded so dry and clinical. The act itself had been anything but. It had been hot and messy. Overwhelming and so fucking good.
In my most heated imaginings, I’d never dreamed of sex like that. But what was I supposed to do now? Roll over and go back to sleep? Sneak out and pretend nothing happened?
Lying there staring at the ceiling, option two seemed like the most sensible choice.
Okay, then. Sneak out and pretend nothing happened.
I rolled to my side, inching toward the edge of the bed, when a hard arm came down, dragging me back. Back to Cooper. He rolled me, coming down on top of me, lacing his fingers with mine and holding them over my head, pinning me in place.
“Going somewhere?” he asked easily, a hot spark in his icy blue eyes.
Having no reasonable answer to that question, I wisely kept my mouth shut. Dropping his lips to graze my chin, he said, “I didn’t think so.”
Positioning my upturned palms carefully beneath my head, raising it so I wouldn’t press the still tender lump into the pillows, he growled, “Don’t move your hands.”
Breathless, all I could manage was a whispered, “K.”
He moved down my body, his mouth wet and hot against my fevered skin, nipping my breast, licking the line of my ribs, dipping into my belly button before planting a palm on each thigh and pushing my legs apart, baring me to his mouth.
I sucked in a gasp. Cooper worked his mouth over me, tasting every inch of my pussy, diving his tongue inside and filling me with his fingers while he sucked on my clit.
My hips bucking beneath him, my mouth moved, babbling an endless refrain of lust-inspired nonsense that consisted mostly of please, God, Cooper, and formless, desperate groans.
I came twice before he rose over me, my knees automatically clamping to his sides, lifting for him as he filled me with that glorious cock, fucking into my oversensitive pussy until I screamed his name.
After, my legs no better than jelly, I passed out on top of him, our bodies sticky with sweat and sex. Neither of us cared. I’d think tomorrow. Tonight I wasn’t going anywhere.
My eyes opened to sunshine and the tempting scent of bacon and fresh-squeezed orange juice. I rolled over, letting out a startled squeak at the sight of Cooper standing beside the bed wearing nothing but his cut-off sweatpants, that gorgeous body in full view.
Struggling to sit up, I held the sheet over my breasts, thoughts tumbling in my head. The smirk that curved the side of Cooper’s mouth was satisfied. A little smug. “Hungry?”
I nodded. I was hungry. And eating would buy me some time while I figured out what to do next. My tender, overused body perked awake at the sight of so much half-naked Cooper and slyly suggested, Why do you have to do anything at all? Let’s just have more sex with Cooper.
Cooper slid in bed next to me and helped himself to a piece of toast from the tray he’d set over my lap. Content to eat in silence for the time being, I tried to get my thoughts in order.
Sensible Alice was telling me to bolt for the door, lock myself in my apartment, and not come out unless someone else was with me so I wouldn’t be tempted to strip Cooper naked and jump him again.
Sensible Alice was a buzzkill.
Sensible Alice had stayed married to her ass of an ex-husband for way too long.
The Alice who’d just had multiple orgasms in twelve hours wasn’t interested in being sensible. Knock on the head aside, I wasn’t deluded enough to think this was anything more than sex.
Cooper wasn’t just my boss—which made him untouchable enough—he was Cooper Sinclair, the oldest of the Sinclair brothers. Cooper was old Atlanta.
Cooper dated socialites. Models. He’d dated a movie star and the bass player in a famous all-female rock band. Cooper did not date quirky office managers. Especially not his quirky office manager.
I didn’t know what madness had ended up with us naked on his kitchen island, but Cooper was too contained, too controlled to confuse sex with anything deeper.
I was convenient. When I thought of it that way, it was kind of a miracle he’d never tried to tap my ass before. I lived right downstairs, after all. I was convenient.
Before that ugly thought could worm a hole in my nice post-orgasm bubble, I snuck a glance at his sculpted chest, his broad shoulders, those strong hands currently peeling an orange that had lifted me so easily and dropped me down onto a long, thick cock…
And it occurred to me that Cooper was convenient.
Cooper was so contained, so controlled, I’d bet he could fuck me for fun and it would never touch our working relationship.
Why should it? We were both adults. We were both professional. We took the job seriously. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to let sex mess up anything at work, and neither would Cooper.
This was just sex. Fucking amazing, mind-blowing, once-in-a-lifetime sex. I wasn’t going to walk away because I was worried we couldn’t handle it. I snuck another glance at the glory of half-naked Cooper and decided to stop being such a wimp.
“So, we’re having sex now?”
Cooper handed me a slice of orange, his eyes impossible to read. “Right now, we’re having breakfast.”
“Smartass,” I muttered, taking the orange. “After breakfast. And later. Is this a thing now? We have sex?”
Cool blue eyes slid to mine. “Do you want to stop?” His voice was so neutral I wasn’t sure he cared about my answer.
“Not a chance,” I said, instinct choosing my words before I could form them into something more graceful.
Cooper said nothing, just leaned over, lifted the tray from my lap and set it on the bedside table before pinning me to the mattress and taking my mouth with his. He tasted of oranges and coffee and everything good.
I wasn’t walking away from this. No way.
Sensible Alice could take a hike.
I was going to take every bit of Cooper Sinclair I could before he lost interest and I lost my chance.