Chapter Thirteen Hailey #3
It’s different from our kiss in the marsh—still urgent, but more intentional. I can taste him properly now, and his flavor is intoxicating. His hands find my waist, pulling me closer, and I melt into him.
“Shower,” I murmur against his mouth. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
We stumble toward the bathroom, shedding clothes as we go.
My thermal top hits the hallway floor with a muddy splat.
Cole’s T-shirt follows, and I have to stop and stare at his bare chest because Jesus Christ. The man is carved from marble.
Suntanned skin over defined muscle, a smattering of dark hair across his chest that trails down toward his waistband.
“You’re staring,” he says teasingly.
“I’m appreciating.” I reach out to trace my fingers down his stomach, loving the way his muscles tense beneath my touch. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” His voice is strained. “Because it feels like torture.”
“The good kind?”
“The very good kind.”
We make it to the bathroom, where I turn on the shower and let the water heat up. Steam starts to fill the small space, fogging the mirror, making everything feel closed in. Cole unclips my bra with one hand—show-off—and it falls away, leaving me bare from the waist up.
His gaze drops, and I watch his throat move as he swallows. “God, you’re beautiful.”
“I’m covered in marsh mud.”
“Beautiful,” he repeats, like it’s not up for debate.
We strip off the rest of our clothes with more urgency than grace.
I try not to stare at him—and fail spectacularly—as his boxers hit the floor.
He’s big. Bigger than I expected, which is saying something because I had expectations.
The adrenaline from the jump clearly hasn’t worn off for either of us.
I step into the shower first, letting the hot water sluice the mud from my skin. It runs brown at first, then clearer, and the heat feels like heaven after the cold wind and colder mud. Cole follows me in, and suddenly the shower feels very small.
With his chest against my back, he presses one hand to the shower wall above my shoulder, shrinking the space with his hard, naked body. His free hand slides over my skin, ostensibly helping rinse away the mud, but his touch is too deliberate to be innocent.
“You’re very thorough,” I manage, biting at my bottom lip.
“I’m very motivated.” His mouth finds the curve of my neck, and I tip my head back, letting it fall against his shoulder.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day.” His hands slide lower, over my stomach, and my breath catches.
“I want to take care of you. Protect you. And also do very inappropriate things to you, Hailey.”
“How inappropriate?” I challenge, turning in his arms and meeting his heated gaze.
His fingers slip between my thighs, and I gasp. “This inappropriate.”
He finds my clit with unerring accuracy, circling slowly while his other hand comes down to cup my breast. I’m pinned between the cold tile and his hot body, water streaming over both of us, and I can’t think straight. Can’t do anything but feel.
“More,” I breathe. “Please.”
He slides a finger inside me, then two, and I have to brace my hands against his chest to stay upright. His thumb keeps working my clit while his fingers curl in a way that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
“Cole—” I’m close already, but he’s been winding me up all day and I’m too far gone to be self-conscious about it. “I’m going to—”
“That’s the idea.” His voice is rough in my ear. “Let go, Hailey. I want to feel you come.”
The orgasm hits me like a wave, crashing through my body in pulses of hot pleasure. I cry out, clenching around his fingers, and he holds me through it, murmuring things I can’t quite hear over the intensity of my climax.
When I come back to myself, I’m shaking.
“That good?” he asks, and there’s a smile in his voice.
“Shut up.”
Water runs down his chest, catching in the grooves of his muscles, and I want to lick every drop of it off his skin.
Fuck it.
I do.
I start at his collarbone, tasting water and salt, and work my way down. His hands tangle in my wet hair, not pushing, just holding on. When I reach his stomach, I drop to my knees.
“Hailey—” His voice cracks. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I look up at him through the steam, and his expression nearly undoes me. Desperate. Hungry. Like he’s barely holding on. “Let me.”
I take him in my hand first, stroking slowly, watching his face. His head falls back, the veins standing out in his neck. He’s thick and hot and already leaking at the tip, and the power of it—knowing I’m doing this to him—is intoxicating.
I lean forward and take him in my mouth.
His groan echoes off the tile, low and guttural. I start slow, working my tongue over the head, tasting him. His hand tightens in my hair but doesn’t do more than rest there, trembling with the effort of restraint.
I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, finding a rhythm that makes his hips stutter. The water is starting to cool, but I barely notice. All I notice is the weight of him on my tongue, the sounds he makes, the way his thighs shake beneath my hands.
“Hailey—fuck—I’m not going to last—”
I pull back, releasing him with a wet pop. “That good?” I hit him with his own humor, but he’s too lost in the moment to hear me.
“I want to be inside you.” His voice is throaty and desperate. “Please.”
That single word—please—makes me want him that much more. I stand, water streaming between us, and he cups my face in his hands. Cole kisses me like I’m air and he’s drowning.
“Bed,” I manage between kisses. “Condom.”
We don’t bother drying off. We stumble out of the shower, dripping everywhere, and I lead him to my bedroom. The sheets are going to be soaked, and I absolutely do not care. I grab a condom from my nightstand and hand it to him.
He tears it open with his teeth, then rolls it on while I watch with shameless appreciation. Then he’s pressing me back onto the mattress, covering my body with his, and the full-body contact makes us both groan.
“You’re sure?” he asks, positioned at my entrance.
“Cole.” I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”
He laughs, breathless and beautiful, and pushes inside.
The stretch is intense—he’s big, and it’s been a while—but it’s the good kind of intense. The kind that makes my toes curl and my nails dig into his shoulders. He gives me a moment to adjust, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us breathing hard.
“Okay?” he manages.
“More than okay.” I rock my hips experimentally, and he hisses. “Move.”
He does.
Slowly at first, deep strokes that hit that perfect angle. But the pace builds quickly—neither of us has the patience for gentle right now. We’re still riding the high from the jump, and it translates into wild desperation.
The headboard hits the wall. I’ll apologize to my neighbors later.
“Fuck, Hailey—” Cole’s rhythm falters, and I can feel him getting close. His hand snakes between us, finding my clit again, and the dual sensation pushes me toward another peak.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp. “Right there—”
“Come with me.” It’s not a request. His hips snap harder, his fingers move faster, and I’m climbing toward the edge again. “I want you to come with me.”
The orgasm crashes into me just as he groans my name and buries himself deep.
We shake apart together, clinging to each other like we’re the only solid things in the world.
Wave after wave crashes over me, over both of us, until finally we collapse into the damp sheets, panting.
Cole slips the condom off, discarding it in the trash can beside my bed before rolling onto his back and settling his hands on his abdomen.
Neither of us speaks for a long moment. The only sounds are our breathing and the distant spray of the shower I forgot to turn off.
“So,” Cole finally says, turning on his side and propping his head up with his hand. “Skydiving.”
I laugh, punchy and exhausted. “Highly recommend.”
“The jumping part or the after part?”
“Yes.”
He grins, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. Cole shifts, pulling me against his side, and I fit into the curve of his body like I belong there. “Hey, Hailey?”
“Mmm?”
“I had a lot of fun with you today. Thank you for experiencing that with me.”
I tip my head up to look at him. In the dim light of my bedroom, with his damp hair falling over his forehead and his expression soft, he looks younger. More vulnerable.
“Thank you for taking me. It was… There’s no one else I would have wanted to do that with. The jumping part…and the after.”
We lie there for a while, neither of us in any hurry to move. At some point I should turn off the shower. Feed Chewy. Check my phone. But right now, wrapped up in Cole’s arms with the endorphins still humming through my system, none of that seems important.
Instead, I just let myself bask in the steady thump of his heartbeat, and the way he sighs into my hair like he’s finally found somewhere he wants to stay.