CHAPTER 42
Quinn
Cole gives me a sideways look, eyebrow raised, but keeps quiet.
Up top, the pool sits empty, glowing like a sheet of glass beneath the stars. Constellations scatter, their reflections rippling on the water with the night breeze.
I pause at the edge, daring myself to move first. Then Cole catches me with the same look he gave me on the beach, green eyes lit by starlight, and my chest eases. I slip into the pool, letting the water swallow every last bit of hesitation.
Warmth wraps around me. I duck under, then rise again, hair heavy against my neck. I close my eyes and wait for him.
Cole slides in beside me, wading close enough that the warmth of his body reaches me through the water. The space tightens like a pulled string, every inch between us charged. His hand drifts against my hip under the surface, testing.
A shiver runs up my spine. I shift, hyperaware of his proximity. He catches my gaze, eyes burning like he knows exactly what he’s doing. For a beat, neither of us moves, our eyes locked, breaths shallow, the faint splash of water the only sound.
“Quinn,” he murmurs, more question than statement.
“Yeah?” My voice comes out shaky with want, like the truth is already written all over my face.
“Tell me to back off,” he whispers, while his thumb traces slow circles against my waist, every stroke betraying the truth: he doesn’t want to move away.
For a second, I wonder if he’ll really close the gap, if I’ll really let him.
“I don’t want you to.”
I swallow, heart pounding so loud it feels like it might echo off the water, and lock on to his gaze. He inches closer, the space between us shrinking.
My arms hook around his neck, legs wrapping tight at his waist. His eyes drop to my mouth, darkening, and heat flashes through me.
“Tell me what you want, Quinn,” he whispers, voice rough, like he already knows.
Kiss me, just fucking kiss me, I want to scream. Screw the arrangement, screw everything, I need his mouth on mine. I’ve wanted it since the first moment we met. And I’ve been lying to myself ever since, pretending I don’t, pretending I can’t.
“You,” I whisper instead. “I want you.”
“Friends don’t kiss,” he murmurs.
“They don’t,” I say back, lips hovering a breath from his. “We don’t have to be friends tonight. We can be whatever you want.”
Cole pulls back just enough to tilt my face closer, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “How about… what happens at the hotel stays at the hotel?”
“Deal,” I breathe, and then I close the distance.
His mouth slams into mine and the world upends. His hands clamp onto my hips
and they’re restless, greedy, like he can’t pick one place to land. He pins me to the pool’s edge, every inch of him hard and insistent. I grind against him, chasing friction, toes curling when he presses back.
The kiss turns frantic, perfect. He rolls his hips into mine, and a groan clambers up his throat.
He catches my bottom lip in his teeth, pulling a gasp from me before swallowing it with another kiss. Time goes slippery, lost to the night, until my lips ache, my lungs burn, our fingers prune and shake, and boundaries feel like some old rule we never meant to follow.
I pull back just enough to catch his eyes, memorising every detail. “Come on, let’s go.” I climb the pool steps slowly, knowing exactly what view he’s getting.
“I, uh, just need a second.”
I bite back a grin, catching the unmistakable outline through his striped boardshorts even from here. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not.”
“You’re worth it.” He grins, hauling himself out of the pool in one smooth move, not even touching the ladder.
“Show-off.” I tsk.
He hands me a towel, and we pull our clothes back on before heading to the elevator. Inside, we don’t wait. Cole crowds into me as I hit the button to our floor, his mouth devouring mine while I grind against his thigh.
“Okay, okay,” I gasp against his lips, but my fists clutch his shirt, dragging him back down to me, greedy for more. “Okay.”
The second our door clicks shut he has me pinned against it. My dress sticks to every curve, and his hands are everywhere.
He hauls my leg around his waist and grinds up into me. I moan into his mouth, the pressure delicious, chasing his hips with mine. I can’t get close enough.
His hardness grinds into that sweet spot between my thighs as he hooks one leg around his waist. Every nerve ending sparks alive, the new angle forcing a shameless moan from my throat.
God, I need him. Need him in every possible way.
Cole cups my breast, calloused palm rough against tender skin, rolling my nipple until it pebbles between his fingers.
When his mouth closes over it, sucking and nipping through the material, I cry out, the sound reverberating through the hotel room.
He pulls back too soon, eyes searing into mine as his hand trails lower, teasing the waistband of my bikini bottoms.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, Quinn,” he rasps, voice almost broken with restraint. “I’ve pictured all the ways this could happen. But if you want me to stop, say the word, and I’ll walk away like this never happened.”
“Don’t you dare stop,” I pant, threading my fingers through his hair and yanking his mouth back to mine. I moan into him as his fingers tug the thin damp fabric aside, sliding against the soaked heat of me.
I want skin to skin, nothing in between. As if he can read my mind, his fingers untie the flimsy strings, the fabric falling uselessly away until I’m bare beneath him.
“Fuck, Quinn,” he growls, eyes flashing as he drags his fingers through the slickness between my thighs. “You’re dripping. Are you always this wet for me?”
My helpless moan answers him. His smirk is wicked as he dips a finger inside, stretching me deliciously. He curls it, stroking places I never manage to reach on my own, pulling another sharp gasp from my lips. My nails bite into his shoulders as I cling to him.
Cole’s thumb circles my clit, teasing, coaxing, building unbearable pressure. “Cole,” I whimper, hips jerking into his hand, “please, I need more.”
He adds a second finger, filling me deeper, thumb working relentless circles. My vision sparks. I crush my mouth to his, tasting him as I fall apart. “Good girl,” he breathes, hot against my ear, “ride my hand. Take what you need.”
His lips find my nipple again, but this time he draws the material aside with his teeth, sucking, nipping, pushing me higher.
My climax peaks, tearing through me in endless waves, thighs trembling as ecstasy rips me open.
I moan into his mouth, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping me upright.
When the pleasure finally ebbs, I sag against him, panting, only to find his gaze locked on me, dark and burning.
His cock is still rock-hard beneath the fabric of his boardshorts, wet from the pool and the mess I’ve made, and the sight almost makes me cry with want.
My release soaks my thighs, dripping down, as I grind weakly against him, already aching for more.
Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, the loss leaving me empty and desperate.
I never knew Cole would be like this. Sweet, funny Cole, the man who makes me laugh until my sides ache, is also the man who just made me see stars.
The way he let me unravel in his hands makes friendship feel impossible now.
But I can’t think about that. Not when I’m shaking, not when I’m still throbbing with need. Certainly not when he’s leaving soon.
My hand slips between us, trembling with urgency as I pull down his shorts and finally wrap my fingers around the hard, throbbing length I’ve craved since the night we met, the heat of him searing against my palm as he pulses beneath my grip.
“That was so much better than I’ve been imagining,” I whisper, dazed as I drop to my knees.