16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Annie
I gargle mouthwash and spit it out then just stand there and stare at myself in the expansive mirror.
How am I going to face Cole tomorrow?
I've just finished reading a bedtime story to his son, but he's all I can think about.
Cole.
He's an arrogant ass—and my boss, damn it—but he's also a damn good kisser. And a damn good... well, he was damn good at other things too.
My face burns, and I look away from the mirror, as if that will somehow make the embarrassment lessen.
After our argument today and my panic attack, then seeing him with his son in the parlor after the store, then at dinnertime, actually talking to him… Something had taken hold of me.
Cole's anger and cold demeanor had melted away, and even though he'd seemed more like a father than a boss, there had still been something magnetic about him .
I'd had the urge to reach across the table and squeeze his hand. To reassure him that it would all be okay.
And then Robbie had asked me to read him a bedtime story, and the urge had intensified.
But how could I do that when he'd already seen me in such a weakened state earlier? When he'd already had his hands all over me—inside of me—a couple of weeks ago.
The memory of his tongue snaking over the heated skin of my breasts...
"Ugh."
I shake my head and step away from the sink. I slap the light switch for the bathroom and head to bed where I have a book from the library waiting for me.
I nod to no one. Yup, I'm going to lose myself in a story, a thriller. Nothing romantic about that, nope.
I slip under the covers almost defiantly, as if Cole is here, judging me.
He's not, but the thought of him makes my mind drift, and I find myself imagining what it would be like to be tucked under the covers next to him. To feel the warmth of his body, to breathe in his scent.
What is his scent, anyway? A faint hint of his cologne. Clean, masculine. So damn sexy.
Something that makes me want to bury my face in the crook of his neck and inhale.
Something that makes me want a whole lot more than that.
"Focus, Annie," I mutter to myself.
I pull the blankets higher, but the feeling of safety and security eludes me.
My mind continues to wander, and I can't stop thinking about Cole. About his hard, toned body. About his skilled, knowing touch.
About his dark, soulful eyes, the way he looked at me when I was in his lap.
Heat blooms low in my stomach, and my breath quickens. My pulse begins to pound, and I feel my body respond.
I bite my lip and squeeze my thighs together, trying to resist the temptation, but it's no use.
My thoughts return to the feeling of his strong hands on my hips, the way he pulled me close, the way his body felt against mine.
I can't help it. I want more.
I trail a hand down my stomach then quickly snatch it away, like a guilty schoolgirl.
Am I seriously doing this? Am I actually thinking about touching myself, while the man I'm fantasizing about is a couple of hallways over?
I let out a frustrated groan.
I need to do this. I need to get him out of my system, once and for all. Then, maybe, I can focus on something other than his muscular frame, his firm lips, his skilled fingers, his thick...
Enough.
I press my hand against my heat through my shorts, finding my core hot and wet. I'm aching for him, desperate for his touch, his kiss, his cock.
"Mmmm." I moan, arching my back.
Being a virgin, I don't exactly have a ton of experience with men. My experience consists of... well... this, I guess.
It's not like I haven't had the opportunity to be with anyone. It's just that, I've always been too busy with school or work. And the times that I have let myself go further, it was never that interesting.
Words can't express the disappointment of going on a date with a really good-looking guy, then at the end of the night, he fumbles it all. Groping my breasts a little too hard, fidgeting fingers between my legs that pretty much took me nowhere.
Then the ever-expected "reciprocation" they expected in the form of sucking cock, like they actually got me off in the first place.
The only good thing to look forward to at the end of those dates was when I was finally at home, in bed, all alone.
Then I could let my wildest imagination run while I made myself come better than any of them ever had .
But with Cole, it wasn't like that. He nothing like the other guys I've dated. Calling any of them men right now just seems wrong. The rest might as well have been boys now that I know what it's really like. What it's supposed to be like.
Cole... Cole is a man.
A man who knows exactly what he's doing.
Who knows exactly what he wants.
Who knows exactly what he wants to do to me.
My clit throbs, and I press down harder, circling my fingertips. My body hums, the pleasure building. I close my eyes, and Cole's face flashes behind my eyelids.
His strong jaw, his full lips, his dark eyes, his powerful body.
I imagine him here, next to me, touching me, kissing me, taking me. My breath catches, and my hips begin to move, grinding against my hand.
This is so wrong. I shouldn't be doing this. He's my boss. He's Robbie's dad.
He's... so damn sexy.
I picture him pulling my clothes off, his fingers trailing along my skin. I picture his mouth on my breasts, his tongue swirling around my nipple.
I picture his hands moving lower, teasing me, tormenting me.
The knock on my door nearly makes me jump out of my skin .
"Just a second," I shout, and I pull the covers up to my neck.
My heart is racing, and I can feel my cheeks burning.
I've been caught red-handed.
No, that's ridiculous. I haven't actually been caught. There's no way anyone knows what I'm doing.
The knocking continues, louder this time.
"Hang on," I call, my voice sounding shrill and panicked even to my own ears.
I take a deep breath, then another.
I can't let anyone see me like this.
Jumping out of bed, I try to straighten my clothes, so Ellis or Robbie or whoever doesn't see me like this.
Like I've been thinking about things I shouldn't be thinking about.
Like Cole... and touching myself.
"Coming," I call, trying to steady my breathing. "Just a second."
My face is flushed, and there's really nothing I can do about it. I head to the door across the huge room and unlock it, opening it just enough to see who's outside.
It should shock me that it's Cole because why the hell would it be?
Because what would he be doing here?
But it doesn't. In fact, it's like I knew it before even opening the door.
Of course, it's Cole.
"Hey," I say, my voice breathless and uneven.
I try to force myself to act normal, but it's not happening. Not now, not like this.
Cole stands in the doorway, his eyes boring into mine. His gaze is intense, searching, and I feel exposed, vulnerable.
Holy. Hell.
His hair is damp from a recent shower. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing heavy, like he's been running. Or something.
"Did you..." My voice falters as he takes a step closer, and I take a step back, which puts him right in my doorway
"...need something?" My voice sounds small and scared, and I hate it. I hate the way I feel like a deer in headlights.
Cole's gaze flicks down to the hem of my t-shirt, and he raises an eyebrow.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice low.
I swallow.
"Reading," I say almost breathlessly.
That was the intention anyway.
His gaze travels over me, then onto the bed, the rumpled sheets before returning to my face. The heat in his eyes is calling me a liar.
"I see."
My face burns hotter, and I curse myself for the blush.
He knows. How could he know?
"What are you doing here?" I whisper, my gaze flicking down the hall behind him.
Cole steps closer, inside the room, and the door clicks shut behind him.
I nearly gasp at the trapped heat between us now.
"I heard a noise," he says. "Everything all right?"
He's so close I can feel the heat radiating off his body. I can smell his shampoo. His aftershave.
God, he smells so good.
"I, um..." My voice falters, and my heart thunders in my ears.
Was I making noises? I don't think so...
His dark eyes never leave mine, and he moves closer.
I can feel his breath on my lips.
"Were you having a nightmare?"
He reaches up and strokes a strand of hair away from my cheek.
"N-no," I stammer.
His fingertips are like fire against my skin, and my knees nearly buckle.
"No?" he repeats, his voice barely a whisper.
I shake my head.
"No," I'm breathless and can barely get my words out. "I, um, I was reading."
His gaze flickers to the bed behind me again.
"What were you reading?" His tone is soft, but the edge is unmistakable.
He doesn't believe me.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Cole leans closer, his breath ghosting over my cheek as he speaks. "What were you reading, Annie?"
A shiver runs through me, and I swallow hard.
"Um..." My voice trails off. “Some thriller.”
Cole's mouth curves into a half-smile, and he shakes his head.
"You're a terrible liar," he says, his voice low.
"I'm not lying," I insist. “Why would I be lying?”
Cole leans even closer, his lips a breath away from mine. The heat between my legs intensifies, and I press my thighs together.
"Tell me the truth, Annie," he whispers.
How the hell can I tell him the truth?
He's my boss. He's Robbie's dad. He's the man I can't get out of my head, and now, here he is, in my room, larger than life.
So damn big.
"Come on, Annie." Cole's voice is a low growl, and his hand cups the back of my neck.
"Tell me."
Oh God.
I squeeze my thighs together, the ache between them growing stronger.
"Cole..."
My voice is barely audible.
"What were you reading, Annie?"
Cole's grip tightens on the back of my neck, and his other hand slides down my side.
His lips brush over my ear, sending shivers scoring down my spine. "Were you reading about how to please your man?"
My breath catches in my throat.
"Were you reading about how to touch yourself?"
Cole's hand moves lower, his fingers brushing the hem of my shirt.
"Were you thinking about me while you touched yourself, Annie?"
My heart is pounding, and my head is spinning.
I can't think straight.
“No! No,” I say a little louder than intended and put my hands to his chest, hoping to… what? Maintain some distance? Keep lying to him?
What’s the point? He already knows the truth.
Cole growls softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.
"Did you like thinking about me?"
"Yes." The word escapes my lips in a sigh before I can stop it.
"What do you think about, Annie?"
I hesitate.
"Tell me." His hand slides under the hem of my shirt, his fingers grazing the skin of my lower back. “Tell me yours, and I’ll tell you mine.”
His? Was he thinking about me too?
A tiny moan escapes my lips when the meaning of his words gets through to me, and I lean into his touch.
He growls, the sound primal, possessive.
My head is swimming, and my knees are weak. I can't think straight. All I can do is focus on the sensation of his fingers on my skin, his body so close to mine.
"I was thinking about you." My voice is barely a whisper, and I'm not sure he can even hear me.
"What were you thinking about?"
"Touching you."
Cole groans, the sound making my heart leap.
"Where were you touching me, Annie?"
"Everywhere."
More than I wanted to tell him, but I can't help it. The truth is spilling from my lips, and I can't stop it. Not when the scent of him is swimming through my mind. Freshly out of the shower, and something else. Something dark and dangerous. Forbidden.
"Show me."
Cole's voice is rough, his hand still on the back of my neck.
I don't want to move. I don't want to breathe. I don't want anything except him.
I reach up and put my hands back on his chest, not even aware they had fallen in the first place.
His muscles tense under my touch, and his breathing grows ragged.
"Keep going."
He guides my hands down his chest, over his stomach.
I feel the ridges of his abs, the heat of his skin through the thin material of his shirt.
"Did you think about kissing me?"
I nod, unable to form words.
"Say it."
"Yes," I breathe, the word a confession.
"Yes, what?"
"I thought about kissing you."
"Show me."
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.
"Show me," he repeats.
I tremble, his words sending a jolt of need through me. My eyes meet his, and the look in his eyes is raw, primal. He wants me. Badly.
I slide my hands up his chest, his neck, and thread them through his damp hair. I stand on my toes and brush my lips against his.
It's a whisper of a kiss, but it sends a shockwave through my body. I lean back, almost scared of how much I want him.
But Cole groans and pulls me close, pressing his mouth to mine, deepening the kiss.
His tongue brushes against mine, and I melt against him.
He's like a drug, intoxicating, addictive.
My head swims, and I grip his shirt, holding on for dear life as I sway in place.
"What else did you think about, Annie?" he growls against my mouth.
I bite my lip, and his teeth graze the sensitive skin.
"My hands all over your body?" To emphasize his words, his hand travels down my body and back up again under my shirt. "My fingers inside you?"
I moan.
"Did you like that? My fingers inside of that sweet pussy? Making you come all over me?"
"Yes," I pant.
He nips at my neck, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.
"What else did you think about, Annie?"
My face flames with embarrassment, but it's too late. The truth is already out .
"I thought about your mouth," I say, my voice barely a whisper.
"Where did you think about my mouth, Annie?"
His voice is a low rumble in my ear, and the heat of his breath on my skin is dizzying.
"Here?" He nips at the sensitive skin behind my ear.
"And here." He bites my collarbone, making me whimper.
"And here." His tongue swirls around my nipple through my sleep shirt, his thumb under my shirt teasing the other.
"Oh God."
I gasp and arch into him, wanting more.
"And where else, Annie?"
He lifts his head and looks at me, his eyes dark and hungry.
"I, uh," I stammer.
"Come on, baby," he coaxes. "Where else did you think about my mouth?"
"On my, uh, on my—"
"You can say it. Your pussy." His hand slides under the waistband of my shorts, his fingers slipping through the slick folds.
"Yes," I gasp.
"Is this what you were doing before I got here?" he asks. "Were you touching your sweet pussy, thinking about me?"
"Y-yes."
"I've been thinking about it," he says roughly. "Since that night in my office. Thinking about getting my tongue inside of you, making you scream."
My knees go weak, and I grab his shirt to keep myself upright.
"Do you want that, Annie? Do you want me to lick your pussy until you come all over my face?"
"Yes," I moan.
"Tell me," he commands.
"I want it."
"Tell me what you want. Say it," he demands.
"I want you to lick my pussy," I gasp. "I want your tongue inside me."
He groans, the sound tearing through my insides as I struggle to stay standing.
But I don't have to try for long. He pulls back suddenly and sweeps me up into his arms. I gasp and cling to him.
"Wha—"
He silences me with a kiss, and I sink into him, his strong arms supporting me as he carries me to the bed.
My mind is spinning, and I'm light-headed .
"Tell me again," he growls.
"I want you to lick my pussy," I say, my voice trembling.
Cole groans and lays me down on the bed.
He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the chiseled planes of his chest.
My mouth goes dry, and I stare at him.
He's a work of art, and he's about to make my literal fantasies a reality.
But he doesn't come back to the bed. He holds the shirt in his hand and walks away. I stare at him a bit bleary and light-headed, and for a moment, I think he's heading for the door.
He doesn't, though. He turns back around and comes back toward me before turning and walking away again.
It's only when my mind clears a bit that I realize he's pacing.
And silently cursing himself.
I sit up a bit, confused.
"What is it?" I ask.
Cole stops and faces me, his expression unreadable.
"Is this what you want?" he asks a bit harshly. "Do you really want this?"
I stare at him.
"If you don't, tell me," he continues. "Because I can't. If we start, if we... and then you regret this or..."
"I already told you..." I flush as I think back to my earlier words. The dirty, dirty words that tumbled out of my mouth just a few moments ago.
Cole runs his hand through his hair, and the tension in his shoulders eases a little.
"I know," he says and turns to pace in the other direction. "I know what you say. Fucking hell, do I know."
I flush.
"But I also know that last time we attempted this, you panicked."
The flush remembering what happened last time is a lot deeper.
"It's not..." I trail off, unsure how to phrase what I'm feeling.
How to tell him the truth. How to tell the insanely sexy man who wants to fuck me that I'm a virgin.
How would he take it? Would it throw a bucket of cold water all over it? Would he be angry? Would he curse me and leave?
I don't know if I can handle something like that.
"It's not what?" he prompts.
I swallow. "It's not panic," I say.
Cole stops pacing and looks at me, his dark eyes searching mine.
"What is it, then?" he asks.
I bite my lip, debating whether or not to tell him.
I mean, he's probably expecting someone with more experience. What if he doesn't want me anymore once he knows?
"Tell me, Annie." His voice is a low growl, and the heat in his eyes burns through me.
"I..."
The words die in my throat.
Cole stalks over to the bed and sits down next to me. He reaches up and strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"Tell me," he murmurs.
"I've never... done this before," I whisper.
There, I said it. It's out in the open, and there's no taking it back.
Cole stares at me for a long moment.
"You can leave," I say softly. "If you want. I won't be offended."
At the same time, Cole speaks, and it takes a moment for me to register what he said .
"I know," he repeats.
I frown, confusion knitting my brows. I sit up more and fight the urge to pull the blanket over myself.
"What do you mean, you know?" I ask, a bit panicked. "H-how did you...?"
"I figured it out. After last time," he says.
"Oh, um..."
"Why didn't you say something?" he asks, his voice low.
I look away, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.
"It's not like a big deal," I mumble.
"It is a big deal."
"Why, because I'm a virgin? It's not like a disease or something," I snap.
He sighs. "No, Annie. It's a big deal because I could have hurt you."
The words shock me to my core, and I stare at him.
He's worried about hurting me?
"That's not..." My voice trails off, and I struggle to find the right words.
"I'm a bastard, but I'm not that much of a bastard," he says, his tone gentle.
"You wouldn't have hurt me," I insist. "I would've been fine."
He gives me a rueful smile, and it touches on a nerve a bit. Like I'm some naive little girl.
That's probably what he thinks of me now.
I furrow my brows and prepare to tell him to get out, but he reaches up and skims his fingers over my cheek, and the words die in my throat.
"Annie, I'm not... gentle," he whispers. "I'm very particular about things, and I like them a certain way."
The words send a shiver of anticipation through me, and my thighs press together, a jolt of pleasure running through me.
"What kind of way?" I say, my throat dry.
He hesitates, and his eyes darken.
"I'm demanding," he says slowly, as if testing the words.
I swallow, my pulse quickening.
Demanding. What exactly does he mean by that?
"Tell me," I say, anticipation clawing at my stomach.
Cole looks at me, his eyes searching mine.
"When I fuck a woman," he says, and the way he almost growls the word "fuck" sends a jolt through me. "It's not a... it's not something soft and slow. It's hard, and it's rough, and it's... intense."
A shiver runs through me, and Cole's gaze drops to my lips.
"You're telling me you'd be like that with me?" I whisper.
His gaze returns to mine, and the heat in his eyes scorches through me.
"Not the first time," he says, and I remember what set us onto this conversation in the first place.
Right. Me being a virgin.
"Do you think I wouldn't like it?" I say, hoping to entice him back to where we were a second ago.
"No, Annie," he says softly. "I think you'd love it."
"Then why not now?"
He sighs. "Because your first time should be special."
I snort, unable to stop myself.
"You've been reading too many romance novels."
Cole chuckles.
"You have. I can tell. You're trying to treat me like I'm some blushing virgin, and I'm not. And I'm not some fragile doll that will break, either."
"You don't understand, Annie," he says, his eyes going so dark, they're nearly black. "That's what I want."
"I want to break you," he says. "I want you to cry and beg for mercy."
The breath stops in my throat.
"I won't be satisfied until I've had every inch of you. Over and over and over again," he says, his voice a low growl .
My heart is thundering in my ears, and the blood is roaring. I don't even realize I'm practically in his lap until he tilts his head and brushes his lips against my cheek.
"You'll come so many times, you'll beg me to stop," he breathes against my skin. "But I won't."
Well, damn.
"What if that's what I want?" I breathe, reaching out and tracing my fingers along his jaw.
He leans into the touch, his eyes burning into mine.
"Not the first time," he insists, and the way he says "first" makes me tremble.
"When, then?" I lean forward and brush my lips against his, then lean back again.
"You're playing with fire," he says, his voice a low rumble.
"Maybe I want to get burned," I say, unable to believe the words coming out of my mouth.
I never thought I was like this.
I always assumed I'd be like those women you see in movies. All shy and demure when the moment finally came. But no, apparently not.
Cole reaches up and grips my chin, holding my head still.
"Not the first time," he says deliberately. "The first time we go slow and careful. "
"That's not—"
"Enough," he says, his tone demanding.
My pulse leaps, and a shiver runs through me.
"Yes, sir," I say, trying to inject some humor.
I fail.
Cole's eyes go so dark, I swear I can see the flames dancing in his eyes. I feel the fire inside me rising to meet his, and for a moment, everything is still.