Chapter Two #4
A few minutes later, after dumping my empty drink in his trashcan, I had pulled myself together enough to make another quick sprint – hopefully, not too drunkenly – back down the stairs.
On my way toward the door…I heard…that laugh, again.
The freaking supermodels. I peeked out and spied her, a man of Asian descent, and a younger man talking amiably and walking right toward me.
Cripes! I really didn’t want to get caught in here.
I shut the door quickly and silently before frantically scanning the office. There was nowhere decent to hide.
Except the curtains in the back that were, ever so slightly, blowing in a breeze. They were thick and sturdy enough to hide a giant, much less little ‘ol me. Perfect. I sprinted toward them and skidded to a halt, banging into the wall next to them. Ow! Dang, that hurt. Freaking bastard.
I yanked them back and darted behind. And, to my utter and complete horror, a hand wrapped around my mouth at the same time I realized the wall I was leaning against wasn’t a wall at all.
It was a man’s body, massive and rock-hard and toasty warm.
I started to scream, just as the door to the room opened up.
“Shut it, thief. My damned drink? How could you? And downing a perfectly made whiskey, I might add, is also criminal. It was made to be savored not gulped. Now don’t go and ruin our hiding place, too. Hush, now,” a deep voice rumbled against my ear.
Cold and Deadly? What the heck was he doing in here?
I settled down when I heard Supermodel laugh again at something one of the men said.
Was it better back here with him or out there with her?
It may have been stupid, but being hidden with C it was carnal and urgent as his lips roughly pushed mine open and his slick, hot tongue rushed in to meet mine, scorching me.
He moaned. I didn’t think it was for show, either.
His tongue tangled with mine and explored ruthlessly, pushing my head back against the glass.
My hands went to his thick hair, and it was soft and long enough to grip tightly.
I yanked his head to the side and pressed harder.
His groan vibrated against my chest and I shuddered when his hands moved from my waist to squeeze my thighs.
“It’s Cole and some redhead,” I heard one of the men whisper and felt, hmm…Cole, grin against my lips. His hands slid up my thighs to where my thigh-high socks ended and flesh began. Cole sucked in a harsh breath.
“More?” he whispered against my lips.
“Heck, yes,” I sighed, my twang at the fore.
Sweet breath whispered against my cheek as his mouth travelled down to my neck, large hands sliding under my skirt. Oh, goodness.
Supermodel whispered, “Cole? Are you sure? He’s not seeing anyone. His last girlfriend was that actress.”
I started to chuckle until Cole’s fingers met no resistance and they warmed up my cool flesh.
He groaned and I knew it was definitely for real this time as one hand grabbed my naked ass in a tight grip and the other slid directly to my core.
Cole’s voice had deepened when he murmured, “Fuck, sweetheart. You need to warn a man next time.” Yeah, no undies. I wasn’t a big fan.
“Sounds like him. Let me see,” Supermodel hissed quietly.
Cole bit my neck, and then sucked with hard pulls. I arched against him and his fingers began feathering against my wet opening. God, would those three ever go away? He ground against me and I felt his own impressive arousal. Mmm.
He only played with me in teasing caresses, making me pant while they stood behind us and the curtain. Air? Who needs air? It’s overrated. He released my butt cheek, and his newly freed hand immediately found one of my breasts.
“Oh, God,” I moaned as he plucked at my nipple.
“Let’s go,” one man murmured quietly, sounding farther away.
“But…” Supermodel protested in a whisper. “Who is she?”
“Sarah. Mr. Philips. This isn’t right. Come on,” the man leaving argued a harsh reprimand. We heard Supermodel and the other guy huff in disappointment. I groaned again when Cole tweaked my nipple harder. A few moments later we heard the door slam.
Ever so slowly, Cole’s head lifted from its decent to my chest.
His dilated eyes were a question.
I stared into them, wondering what it would be like to be with someone other than Brent or Ally. They had moved on. Why couldn’t I have a little fun myself? Who knew how much more I would have in the days or years to come. Probably not much.
“I haven’t had sex in five years. I’m clean,” I murmured softly.
His eyes widened slightly. I’m not sure if it was the length of time since my last sexual encounter or my bluntness, but he spoke just as frankly, “My last partner was a month ago. I’ve tested since then and I’m also clean.
” A pause. His eyes shut in what appeared to be pain. “I don’t have a condom.”