Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
REINE
It’s hard to believe that Cole Carrington is living under my roof.
Well, it’s technically Grams’ roof, but for all intents and purposes, I’m the one he’s living with.
Cole is not only living in our guest room, but he’s also managed to become the center of gravity for every single molecule of my daily life.
It starts with breakfast. Grams serves up eggs, bacon, and side-eye in equal portions.
Cole appears in the kitchen, freshly showered and smelling like cedar and leather, hair still wet enough to darken the collar of his blue button-down.
He’s got this look, half cocky, half like he can’t believe his luck, and it’s honestly not fair to any of the other men on planet earth.
And the best part? He fits in. He’s already wormed his way into Grams’ good graces, which is a minor miracle, considering she once ran off a census worker with a shotgun for interrupting Wheel of Fortune.
One night after dinner, Grams grumbles about long days and short nights, then tells us she’s going to bed early to get a little extra sleep.
“She does realize we see right through her. Right?” Cole leans against the counter, arms folded, eyes all lazy mischief.
“No doubt about it.” I laugh at the silly look on his face.
Cole closes the gap between us, his boots scuffing the old linoleum.
He crowds me until the backs of my thighs hit the table, and his hands come up to bracket my face.
He doesn’t kiss me—not yet. Instead, he looks at me with that focused intensity that says he’s about to ruin me, or save me, or both.
He smiles, slow and wicked, then finally kisses me. It’s soft at first, almost reverent, and then it deepens, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, his hands sliding down to my hips and pulling me closer. I melt, absolutely fucking melt, and when he pulls back, I’m breathless.
“Damn, Montana,” he murmurs, thumb stroking my jaw. “You’re dangerous.”
“Right back at you, Texas,” I say, managing to keep my voice steady. He growls low in his throat, and before I can blink, he’s got his hands under my ass, lifting me like I weigh nothing. My legs automatically wrap around his waist, and my heart does a full leap into my throat.
“Jesus, Cole,” I whisper, fingers tangled in his hair as he kisses the side of my neck, walking me down the hallway like he’s got one single purpose in life. Getting me alone.
He pushes my bedroom door open with his boot like a total caveman and quietly closes it behind us.
The next thing I know, I’m tumbling backward onto my bed, pinned under his solid, yummy weight.
The mattress dips as he follows me down, his mouth hungrily finding mine, and I can barely breathe for how much I want him.
He yanks my shirt up and over my head like he’s been dying to get his hands on me all day.
The second my bra hits the floor, Cole is on me, mouth hungry, hands everywhere, and I swear, if I combust right here and now, he’d still keep kissing me.
“You have no idea what you do to me, Montana,” he mutters, lips dragging down my neck, hot and rough.
“Pretty sure I do,” I manage, arching up against him, desperate to get closer. I want all of it.
He fumbles with my jeans, not bothering to be gentle, just gets the button undone and yanks them off, panties and all. “I can’t wait another goddamn second,” he growls, like he’s been holding himself back for years instead of hours.
My hands are just as greedy, going straight for his jeans. I get the zipper down and shove a hand inside, wrapping it around his thick cock. The feel of him in my fist goes straight to my head, and suddenly, I’m desperate, needy, like the only thing keeping me alive is getting him inside me NOW.
Cole’s mouth crashes over mine, all teeth and tongue, his hands pinning my wrists above my head as he grinds against me. I whimper, arching up into him, so fucking desperate I could die if I don’t get what I want.
“God, you’re perfect,” he groans, his voice all rough velvet and heat, “and you’re all fucking mine.”
“Yes,” I gasp, probably loud enough to wake up Grams, but I don’t care. “Yours. Please, Cole—I need it.”
He growls and yanks my thighs apart, lining up his cock at my slick entrance.
There’s no teasing; he just pushes inside me in one deep, brain-melting stroke, and holy fucking hell, I see stars.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming. Cole’s mouth crashes over mine, and he swallows the sound before I wake up Grams. His hips slam into mine, deep and rough, and the stretch is so intense my toes curl while my body arches up to meet him.
The only thing I can do is hang on for the wild ride.
My nails dig into his shoulders, and I wrap my legs around his waist, desperate to keep him exactly where he belongs.
Cole groans, low and filthy, and bites down on my neck hard enough that I’m sure I’ll have marks in the morning.
Good. I want to wear his mark everywhere.
He pounds into me, each thrust harder than the last, and my brain goes totally offline.
All I know is Cole. The pressure builds fast, electric and wild, until I’m right on the edge, seconds away from detonating.
I explode around him, all senses gone, my body tensing so hard I think I might actually black out.
God, I’ve never felt anything like this.
Every nerve lights up, and all I can do is cling to Cole as he fucks me, hard and desperate, like he’s trying to fuse us together for good.
“Don’t stop!” I cry, my voice muffled under his hand when he covers my mouth so I don’t wake my grandmother. He laughs, low and wild, and slams into me even harder until my head is spinning and I come again, this time so strong I see fireworks behind my closed eyelids.
He keeps going, relentless, his cock hitting the perfect spot every single time, grunting my name like a prayer. “God, you were made for me.”
I lose count of how many times I come. Two?
Three? Four? I don’t even know. My body is pure goo at this point, melted to the bed and pressed beneath Cole’s solid weight while he keeps pounding into me like he’s never going to stop.
I can’t even catch my breath before another wave of pleasure slams into me.
By the time he finally groans my name and pulses deep inside me, my body is shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. I wrap myself around him and ride every last wave of pleasure. Holy. Shit.
Cole’s breathing is just as ragged as mine, his hand stroking my hair while he presses kisses all over my face. “Fuck, I love you, Montana.” The words are so raw and honest, I actually tear up.
It’s like my heart overloads and pulls the rest of my body right along with it. I blink, trying to keep it together, but my eyes go blurry anyway. “I love you too, Cole,” I whisper, voice wobbly as hell, but I don’t care. There’s nothing in me that wants to hide from this man.
He drags his mouth over mine, his voice pure gravel.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it, Montana.
You’re everything to me.” The way he says it, low and rough and reverent, makes my entire body clench tight all over again.
I’m already so fucking spent I can barely breathe, but the second he brushes his thumb across my nipple, my pussy throbs with need, and I want him all over again.
Is it possible to die from too many orgasms? Because I’m pretty sure I’m in the danger zone.
At some point in the middle of the night, he gets up and kisses my forehead. “I love you, Montana.” He pulls the covers up over me and tucks them in. “And it kills me to leave you.”
He quietly leaves my room and sneaks back to his room so Grams doesn’t wake up to find him in my bedroom.
Over the next week, we settle into a comfortable routine.
Grams retires earlier and earlier every night, sometimes not even making it through a single episode of Wheel of Fortune before she “accidentally” falls asleep in her recliner.
Cole and I make dinner together, clean up together, and then curl up on the couch or on the back porch, just talking or staring up at the stars.
Sometimes we say nothing at all. Sometimes we can’t keep our hands off each other.
Most nights, after Grams is safely asleep, Cole sneaks into my room. He’s always quiet, always careful, but there’s no way Grams doesn’t know. I’m pretty sure she’s orchestrated the whole thing.
Cole kisses me in the dark, whispers sweet and filthy things, and makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the world. In the mornings, he always leaves before the sun comes up, but not before kissing me one last time and whispering, “I love you.”
It thrills me. It terrifies me. It makes me believe in happily ever after.
And I’m already picturing my happily ever after with Cole.