53. Riley
A rushof memories hits me as I walk down the second-floor hallway, especially as I walk past the room I lived in while I worked here. Unable to help my curiosity, I pause outside the door, leaning in to survey my old living space.
It’s almost empty. The bed is made, but it looks like it hasn’t been touched since I was here. It’s a little depressing, so I move on quickly.
Archie, in his room, has already put on his pajamas with lightning speed. He’s crawling into bed as I enter.
“Story, story, story!” he chants, an eager grin on his face.
“Ah, ah,” I say. “What are you forgetting?”
Archie frowns for a moment, unsure; then realization dawns on him. He climbs back out of bed and goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Only once he’s back do I settle on the side of his bed, racking my brains for a story.
Eventually, I spin a tale about our two betta fish meeting in a stream and becoming friends. Given what I know about betta fish, this is a pretty fanciful story—if Gill and Swimmy ever actually met, they’d most likely fight—but Archie eats it up, delighted. I’ve still got it.
When the story is over, I pull the covers up to Archie’s chin.
“Daddy has been really sad,” he tells me, his voice tinged with sleep. “Since you left. He misses you.”
I pause in the middle of tucking him in. “What?”
“Daddy misses you a lot. I miss you, too. Where did you go?”
Archie’s quiet words affect me in a way I didn’t know was still possible. I bite my lip and sigh, withdrawing to sit on the edge of Archie’s bed again.
“I’m on my own adventure,” I tell him, and he nods solemnly in understanding. “Just like when your Dino went on an adventure. You know?”
“Okay,” he mumbles, barely awake. “I hope that you come back, though.”
I don’t respond to that, but instead wait until Archie has fallen asleep. I sit there for a few more minutes, listening to his quiet snoring, and thinking.
I conjure up all of the reasons I turned Cole down when he asked me to get back together with him—to make our relationship real. I needed something more than what he was offering me. I needed to be a full partner in someone’s life, more than just a nanny.
And the wound was too raw. After how things ended, I wanted them to stay closed.
I still believe all of those reasons are true, but still, I have to admit that Archie’s words felt like they were squeezing my heart. I miss him, too.
I lay a hand on Archie’s forearm, but he doesn’t stir from sleep. I get to my feet and, tentatively, head back downstairs.
Down to where Cole is waiting.
He’s on the couch in the living room, and he stands up expectantly as I enter, a half-smile on his face. “How was the story?”
“Eventful,” I say.
The two of us move out into the kitchen, talking idly.
“He’s missed you a lot,” Cole says, and it’s such an echo of what Archie just told me that I can’t stifle my laugh in time. He cocks his head, confused. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ve just missed him too, that’s all.”
“Surely there are some special kids at the community center,” Cole replies.
I shrug. “Oh, of course. There are special kids everywhere. But I know Archie better than any of them, you know? We have this—”
“Connection,” Cole completes, nodding. “I know.” He steps closer to me. “Which was why I was so glad that you agreed to join us for dinner tonight.”
“Well…” His proximity has me flustered, and I smile at the hardwood floor. “How could I say no, with an invite like that?”
“It was nice,” Cole says, his voice dropping, and just like that, I feel it again—that heat that always sparked between us, that magnetic lure that draws me straight to him. The attraction between us is there, just as it always has been, pulling us together.
“I agree.” My voice is a hoarse whisper to match his. “I had a great time. Best time I’ve had in a while.”
He leans in, and my heart leaps. I catch my breath as his hand hovers over my shoulder, his fingertips almost brushing my neck.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he murmurs. His breath tickles my ear, and a shiver goes through my entire body.
I should say something, I think to myself.
After all, there were all of those… reasons. For the life of me, though, I can’t conjure a single one of them. I can’t imagine what stupid, meaningless rationalizations I was using to keep myself away from Cole.
Right now, all I can think is that I want his hands on me. That I want to feel his touch. That I want him to do things to me that only he can do.
So I don’t tell him to stop. If I told him that I didn’t want this, I’d be lying.
And I’m tired of lying to him. I’m tired of lying to myself.
Something flares in Cole’s eyes as a long moment of silence stretches between us and he realizes the words aren’t coming. I give a tiny nod, my heart hammering against my ribs, and that’s all it takes to break whatever thread was holding him back.
His lips crash down on mine, his arms banding around me at the same instant. The kiss is full of hunger and yearning, and I meet his tongue stroke for stroke as I whimper softly into his mouth.
It’s like fire—hot and wild and comforting and familiar, all at the same time. I throw myself into it, wrapping my arms around his neck and going up on my toes.
“Fuck, angel,” Cole groans, and the sound of him calling me the nickname he gave me all those weeks ago makes something flutter in my stomach.
He walks me backward, his body pressed flush against mine, and I have no idea where we’re going until my ass bumps up against the kitchen island. Cole makes a low sound in his throat, reaching down to grip my thighs and lifting me effortlessly up onto the polished countertop.
“Missed you,” he breathes, his voice full of something like awe as he steps between my legs, pulling me to the edge of the counter so that his cock grinds against my core.
I suck in a breath at the pressure on my clit, heat racing through me. My hands are everywhere, sliding through his hair, clutching his shoulders, roaming over his strong arms. He touches me the same way, his large palms skating over my curves as if he’s trying to memorize them all over again after the time we’ve spent apart.
He trails his mouth over my neck and shoulders, teeth scraping my skin as I hook my legs around his waist, both of us desperate for the other.
“So fucking perfect.” His voice is muffled against my skin, as if he can’t bear to pull away long enough to speak. “You taste so good, Riley. Every inch of you. I need you so goddamn badly.”
His hands move to the waistband of my pants, working the button and zipper down, and I rock from side to side a little, lifting my hips enough for him to slide them off. He takes my panties with them, and I hiss out a breath as the cool marble meets my bare skin.
“I need to be inside you,” Cole groans, nearly ripping my pants off my legs as I desperately kick off my shoes. The heat between us is like an inferno, and I swear the rest of my clothes are about to burn to ash just from touching my skin. “Can I…?”
“Yes!” It’s a breathless gasp, and I nod, reaching for his pants too.
He’s still wearing his shirt, and so am I, but I hardly even care about that right now. All I know is that I need to feel him inside me. I need the connection, that closeness, that indescribable pleasure that I’ve only ever felt with him.
Cole is breathing hard as he uses one hand to undo his pants and shove them down, fetching out his hard cock. He grips my thighs, spreading me open for him as he lines himself up, and both of us look down to watch as he presses slowly inside.
“Oh god,” I breathe, my voice shaky. I’ve never seen something as hot as this, as overwhelmingly filthy and perfect.
We fit together in a way that feels otherworldly, and I know he feels it too because his body shudders as he pushes another few inches deeper.
“I…” His voice is hoarse. “Fucking hell. You feel so good.”
He finally bottoms out, filling me completely, and as soon as we’re fully connected, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him.
There’s nothing slow or measured about it as he starts to fuck me. It’s messy and breathless, full of unspoken emotions and desperate kisses.
He murmurs things into my ear as his hips slap against mine, filling the kitchen with the muffled sounds of sex. Some of what he says is barely intelligible, and the rest of it is filthy praise, telling me how good I feel, how perfect I am, how no one else has ever made him feel like this.
Every word that spills from his lips dances across my ear, settling somewhere in my chest, and I finally can’t hold back any longer. My orgasm rips through me, too powerful to deny. My mouth drops open, and as if he can sense I won’t be able to stay quiet this time, Cole drops his head and kisses me hard, drinking up my cry of pleasure as I shatter around him.
He grunts into my mouth, and I can feel his cock start to swell as his thrusts grow choppy. But then he stops himself, freezing inside me. Our kiss breaks, his forehead resting against mine as he breathes hard.
“Not yet,” he rasps. “I’m not ready for this to be over yet. I want to do it the right way.”
My heart is still pounding too hard from my climax for me to string together the words to ask him what he means. Before I can, he lifts me off the counter and carries me up to his room, still buried inside me.
He lays me down gently on his bed, then carefully removes my shirt, gazing down at me with rapture blazing in his dark blue eyes as he undoes my bra too. His fingers skate over my breasts, teasing my nipples, and I clench around him as they harden to little peaks.
“I want to see you too,” I whisper, my throat tight.
He nods, allowing me to undo the buttons of his shirt and pull it off. Baring his scars reminds me of the first time he let me see them, the first time he let himself be that vulnerable with me. It feels like we’re repeating that moment, but tenfold, with so much more hanging between us then there was then.
“I want to fuck you all night, angel,” he says, a tremor running through him as I trail my fingers down his scarred chest. “I want to keep you here forever.”
I know it’s probably just dirty talk, but the word forever makes my heart thump in a way that’s painful and sweet at the same time. I can’t think about everything that could mean—I’m not ready to think about it—so I just pull him down to kiss me, answering without words.
I’m yours for tonight, at least.
His tongue slides against mine as he starts to move again, rocking our bodies on the bed as he fucks me. The movements are hard and forceful like always, dominating my body the way no one else can, wringing pleasure out of me until I’m right on the edge again.
“Touch yourself,” he murmurs at one point, drawing back just enough to watch as I slip a hand down between us to circle my clit.
He talks me through it, praising me and encouraging me as he slows his thrusts, his jaw clenched tight as he works to keep his own control.
When I come for a second time, I’m certain he’s going to follow me over the edge. But once again, he denies himself, although I can see a sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin, his eyes dark and his pupils blown out with desire.
But he really must’ve meant it when he said he wanted to fuck me all night. He switches positions over and over again, finding new and incredible ways to bring me pleasure as he wears me out with marathon sex—as if he’s truly determined to make this last forever.
He manages to wring two more orgasms out of me, leaving my clit tender and swollen and my pussy soaked. But when I come for a final time, the last of his control finally snaps.
“Fuck, Riley,” he grunts, his voice so full of gravel that it sends a shiver through me. “Fuck. I can’t—I’m gonna—”
He presses my knees up to my chest and drives into me, leaning down to kiss me. His thrusts are so hard that I’m sure I’ll feel the bruises on my inner thighs tomorrow, but I don’t care. I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, clinging to him as he finally comes in pulsing jerks.
He releases his hold on my knees, adjusting our position so that I can wrap my legs around him, and we stay like that for a long time.
I feel boneless, my body rocked by the intensity of the sex after so long without him. My eyes drift closed as he presses hot little kisses to my neck and shoulder, as if even now he can’t stop himself from wanting more of me.
Finally, after what feels like an hour of dazed, post-sex bliss, Cole slowly presses up onto his elbows and then pulls out of me. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a towel to clean me up, and the tender way he touches me makes that wounded space in my heart ache all over again.
He gets rid of the towel and then crawls back onto the bed with me, pulling the covers back. He reaches over and brushes a sticky, sweaty lock of hair back from my face, vulnerability shining in his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs.
“Will you stay with me?” he whispers. “Will you sleep here? Please?”
I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I’m not sure if I should, since it will only risk tearing off the small scab that’s finally started to form over the hole in my heart.
But I didn’t let that stop me from kissing him, or from having the most intense sex of my life with him.
And right now, I just want to keep leaning into what feels good. If I pay for it with a broken heart tomorrow… well, it will have been worth it.
So I nod, blinking away the tears that burn in the corners of my eyes. They don’t fall, but somehow Cole manages to see them anyway. He kisses each eyelid as he pulls me close, banding his arms around me protectively. His hand strokes my hair as my head rests on his chest, his heart beating steadily beneath my ear.
I curl up against him, letting my body melt against his.
Letting myself have everything I want.
Just for this moment.