Текст книги "Echoes of Scotland Street"

Автор книги: Samantha Young

Соавторы: Samantha Young
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

CHAPTER 16

A t the press of a gentle touch on my lower back, I found myself inhaling the scent of Cole’s cologne.

“I thought you could come over to my place tonight once I finish up at judo,” he murmured in my ear.

I moved away from him, bending my head closer to the file I was working on. I’d almost completed the digitization of Stu’s filing system. If I didn’t have to endure too many distractions, I would be finished in a week or so. Cole didn’t take my “I’m busy. I don’t want you touching me” hint. The studio was quiet, and there was no one around to witness him crowding me against the reception desk.

“Shannon,” he said, his voice a warning as his fingers gripped my hips.

I ignored the flush of arousal I felt at his touch. In fact, I was trying to ignore everything about him these days.

True to his word, Cole contacted a tutor at the College of Art inquiring about my chances of being accepted into a BA degree course for painting. She was kind enough to send me information on the kind of portfolio I’d need to put together for submission into the program as well as information on the student loan system. I was going to miss the deadline for that year, but after discussing it with Cole and being infected by his enthusiasm, I decided I was going to work on a portfolio over the next nine months that I would use, along with my high school qualifications, to apply for admission into next year’s program.

Cole also outed me to Rae and Simon, and Rae insisted I use the sitting room to work in since there was more space and we had the view from the balcony. I was blown away by all their support, but mostly by Cole, who seemed more than determined to erase all the negativity Ollie had left me with.

His seeming dedication to making me happy scared the utter crap out of me. That was why when most girlfriends—not that I was his girlfriend—would be lavishing gratitude and affection on him, I grew distant. It wasn’t even intentional. The need to protect myself was instinctual. At first I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

It started with little things . . . like not meeting his eyes when we were talking at work and finding ways to let go of his hand whenever he reached for mine. Then I began to make excuses not to go home with him, and for him not to come home with me. Two nights a week he went to judo, and another two he went to kickboxing. In the past I’d meet him at his place after he’d finished up, but now I was using the classes as an excuse for us to spend the nights apart.

Cole had been patient.

I didn’t know how long that was going to last. There was a possibility that his patience had just snapped.

“I’m working on the Royal Mile piece right now.” I hurried to excuse myself from his company that evening. “Another time.”

“Rae says you’ve finished it.”

Dammit, Rae.

“Well . . . I’m tired because of it. I think I’ll just have a quiet night in tonight.” I tensed, waiting for his reaction.

His reaction was to hug me and kiss my temple. “Okay. But you’ve got the day off on Sunday. Simon’s covering for me so I can take you to lunch at Elodie and Clark’s.”

Like he sensed my imminent refusal, he continued. “I’ve already told Elodie you’re coming, so she’s planned accordingly. She’s also told everyone else. Hannah is really looking forward to seeing you, and Joss was hoping you would beta-read a few chapters in her new book while we’re there.”

I turned around in his arms and found him trying to quell a smirk. He’d completely outplayed me and he knew it. Cole grinned at my scowl and edged closer to me. My breathing stuttered at the feel of his hand on my thigh. He slid it up under my skirt, his fingertips caressing the soft skin of my inner thigh as his hand traveled higher.

“Cole,” I gasped, and reached for his hand only for him to grab it with his other and press my palm against his chest.

He bent his head, bringing our bodies closer and his hand even higher up my skirt as he kissed my neck. I shivered as those kisses were scattered upward until his teeth were nibbling at my ear. “About tonight . . . ,” he whispered, and his fingers dipped beneath my underwear. “Are you sure you’re too tired?”

My hips jerked in surprise at the touch of his cool thumb on my clit. Heat and shock held me against him as he played with me in broad daylight in the studio. “Cole,” I panted, my fingers curling around his shirt. My whole body was flushed and my thighs were trembling as I pressed my hips into his touch.

His lips brushed against mine, teasing me. “I’ll take that as a ‘no, I’m not too tired.’”

Senseless with want, I wrapped my hands behind his head and tugged him back down for a real kiss as my climax grew nearer.

I came with a breathless moan against his lips, my lower body jerking against him.

Cole groaned, slipping his hand out from beneath my skirt to smooth it back down. He kissed me again, his hands soothing and comforting as they glided down my waist and around my back.

Finally I came back to myself. I stiffened. I’d just let him bring me to orgasm in a public place and I hadn’t done anything to stop him. Honestly I’d been mindless to have him.

So much for distancing myself from him. Or making up my mind about what I wanted.

I was such a mess.

*   *   *

Settling the last page on the small pile of chapters, I looked up at Joss, who was sitting at a dressing table in the corner. We were in the nursery at Elodie and Clark Nichols’s house and Joss had been waiting impatiently as I read through the first three chapters of her latest manuscript.

“I know it’s different from anything I’ve ever done before.”

“Yes.” I nodded seriously. Then I grinned. “But I love it.”

Joss stood up, her gray eyes hard to read. “Really?”

“Definitely.” I handed her the chapters. “It’s still got your signature style—the dark humor, the earthiness, the somehow unsentimental sentiment. But you’ve added action and mystery and grit and intrigue. I love it. I can’t wait to read the rest.”

A slow, pleased smile lit up Joss’s face. “Well, I have to write it first. I just wanted a reader’s opinion before I continue any further—someone I can trust. Cole said I could definitely trust you.”

I flushed inwardly at Cole’s praise. Sometimes he made me feel guilty as sin for not trusting him in return. Huh, sometimes? Try all the time.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

And as if she read my mind, Joss smirked. “Maybe you could try trusting Cole.”

“Did he say something?” I could feel myself bristling inwardly. My business was my business. It wasn’t for Cole to be telling people.

“Not much. But he finds himself surrounded by a lot of women who have adored him since he was a kid, so we tend to get a bit nosy and all up in his business.” She grinned, like it was funny or something. I didn’t really agree. “We managed to find out what I already suspected: You don’t trust him because of a bad breakup.”

Slowly the tension eased out of me. “But that’s all he said?”

“Yeah, no details from Cole. He wouldn’t do that to you. I’m not dumb, however, Shannon. I know bad in your case means bad.” She gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “But you can trust Cole. He cares about you.”

I didn’t respond, because I didn’t know what to say. My chest began to ache as we walked downstairs and the sounds of laughter and conversation hit our ears. Cole deserved to be with someone who could not only trust him but give herself to him the way that he was willing to give himself in return.

Oh God.

Was it time already? Did I need to walk away?

Feeling sick at the thought, I found it took everything within me to smile at Cole as Joss led me into the dining room. The place was a crush with one large dining table and a smaller one at the end of the room where the kids were sitting. Apparently I was visiting on one of the rare days that everyone was free for Sunday lunch.

Cole tucked me in beside him and I had Hannah and Sophia on my other side. Somehow Elodie miraculously managed to get food in front of everyone.

“Nate, tell them the what-if story.” Liv chuckled at her husband.

Nate smiled across the room and I followed his gaze. His and Liv’s daughter, Lily, a dark-haired beauty around the age of seven, was giggling with her sister, January, and Joss and Braden’s daughter, Beth. Seeing her occupied, Nate nodded.

Liv looked at me. “We just got back from a weekend break in Argyll.”

“So we’re in Dunoon,” Nate explained. “Liv’s on the docks with January because Jan’s still a bit afraid of water. So I take Lily out on a rowing boat on the loch to teach her to fish. And Lily is going through her what-if phase.”

“What’s a what-if phase?” I asked.

“The what-if phase,” Braden said, “is a phase most kids go through. All day, every day, for what feels like months, they ask what-if questions.”

I laughed and nodded at Nate to continue.

“So Lily and I are on the boat and she’s asking me a ton of questions and I’m trying to answer them as patiently as possible. ‘Dad,’ she said, ‘what if we don’t catch any fish?’ ‘Then there will be one more fish in the loch.’ ‘Dad, what if we lose an oar?’ ‘Then I’ll use the one we have left to get us back to the docks.’ ‘Dad, what if we lose both oars?’ ‘Then we’ll paddle back with our hands.’ ‘Dad, what if a boat came?’ ‘Then we’d get out of the way.’ ‘What if it was really close?’ ‘We’d get out of the way really fast.’ ‘Dad, what if you didn’t see the boat?’ And by now I’m losing my patience. ‘Lily,’ I said, ‘I thought you wanted to learn how to fish. Why all the boat questions?’ ‘Because, Dad, there’s a big boat behind you.’ I look over my shoulder and the Dunoon ferry is right there!”

We all burst out laughing as Nate starts gesturing with his hands. “I start rowing like hell to get us out of the way and Lily’s just sitting there calm as you please.”

Shaking with laughter against Cole’s side, I could tell the parents at the table totally got the conversation. I didn’t think I’d ever gone through a what-if phase as a child. My parents weren’t big conversationalists, so I probably didn’t even bother to ask.

Olivia was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, probably having heard the story too many times to count, and still finding it hilarious.

“Well, since you’re sitting here today we can safely assume you and Lily made it out of the way,” Joss said dryly.

“Just. Alive by the skin of our teeth because my daughter is a smart-arse just like her mother.”

Liv shrugged. “I can’t help it if she inherited my wonderful sense of humor.”

Our chuckles were interrupted by a loud clatter at the end of the table.

Elodie was gripping her arm in pain, her eyes wide with shock, her face sallow and glistening with sweat.

“Elodie.” Braden, who was closest to her, pushed out of his chair at the same time Clark started hurrying to get to her from the other side of the room.

A deep unease settled in my gut as we watched on as Braden and Clark questioned her.

She sank into their hold, seeming unable to talk through the pain.

“Call an ambulance,” Braden barked, but Marco was already on his phone.

Stunned, I looked up at Cole. He was staring at Elodie with panic in his eyes, his own face pale.

Jo was suddenly at his side, her hand gripping his tightly.

*   *   *

A grim pall hung in the air in Cole’s flat. He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling while I lay by his side not knowing what to say.

The paramedics had taken Elodie to the hospital; her husband, Hannah, Declan, Ellie, Braden, and their partners and kids took off after them. The kids were crying because they knew something bad had happened, and their parents were trying to keep it together for their sake.

The rest of us were left behind.

Cole was silent.

He was silent when Jo suggested we go home and she’d contact us with any news. He was silent all the way to his flat in the taxi. He’d been silent for the last fifteen minutes.

I’d known he was close to the Nicholses; I just hadn’t realized the depth of his attachment until now. He was frightened for Elodie and I knew I couldn’t ease those fears even if I tried.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head.

“She’ll be okay,” I whispered, hoping I was right.

“You don’t know that,” he replied. “My mum had a heart attack. She didn’t make it.”

“Elodie’s not your mum.”

“Yeah,” he snorted, sounding bitter. “I know that. That’s why this is fucking worse.”

Not understanding I whispered his name in question.

His green eyes found mine and I flinched at the pain in them. My hand automatically reached for his. “Elodie Nichols is everything my mother never was. A real mum. A great mum. Kind and compassionate. Loyal. She adds people to her family like it’s something everyone does, like it’s no big deal to open your home to a stranger.”

Seeing the tears in his eyes, I felt a thickness in my throat, and answering tears burned in my own eyes. “What was your mum like?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I definitely knew I needed to know.

He exhaled heavily and turned to look back up at the ceiling. “Selfish. Bitter. A drunk.”

I squeezed his hand tighter, and his fingers bit into my skin in response.

“Growing up, she was never there for me. Jo always took care of me, making sure I was washed and clothed and fed. Making sure I had everything I needed for school. Mum’s drinking got gradually worse, especially when we moved from Glasgow to Edinburgh.”

“You’re from Glasgow?” I said, surprised.

He nodded. “I don’t remember my dad. He was put away for armed robbery when I was about two. I did know he wasn’t a nice guy, because as I got older I finally got some attention from my mum. But not good attention.”

I felt sick suddenly.

“I was about thirteen, nearly fourteen, and I looked a lot older. I was as tall as Jo by the time I was fourteen.” He shot me a sad grin. “I was a total geek. Didn’t go anywhere unless it was to my mate’s house to play video games or work on the comics we created.”

I smiled. “You sound adorable.”

“I was really shy.” His smile slipped. “I was worried all the time. Jo worked her arse off trying to make ends meet because our mum was a bedridden alcoholic by this point. We were always picking her up off the kitchen floor, cleaning up her vomit . . . Anyway, Jo tried to protect me, but that just made me worry about how much pressure she was under. And she was always dating these men that had money and I knew why. I just felt like shit . . . I wished I was older so I could help, you know.”

I reached over and stroked his cheek, fighting tears of compassion.

“We had all this going on and other kids my age just seemed so immature. It made me isolate myself a bit until I was pretty socially awkward.”

“I can’t even imagine that.” I swear my heart clenched in my chest for him.

“It didn’t help that Mum had gotten abusive. I tried to hide it from Jo because I didn’t want her to have to deal with it . . . and I was ashamed.”

I couldn’t stop the tears now. “Cole?”

He looked at me, countenance grim. “She said I was like him. My dad. That I was worthless, that I was nothing. And she’d hit me. Not once did I hit her back, though. I wasn’t like him. I was never going to be like him.”

I swallowed a sob of compassion and guilt. “And I said . . . I said that—”

“Shh.” Cole frowned and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his throat and started to cry for everything he’d been through and for what I’d put him through. “Sweetheart, shh, you’re killing me here.”

“I’m sorry,” I hiccupped, desperately attempting to control myself.

He rubbed my back. “Put that out of your mind. For good.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” He eased me back so I could see the truth in his eyes. “Shannon, I know. It’s not the same, but I get what it’s like to have someone that’s supposed to love you make you feel small and worthless. To have them hurt you with careless violence. I know. And that means I know exactly why you have your defenses up so high.” He brushed my tears with his thumb. “You’re a good person. You are nothing like her. She made it really difficult to love her, and she left me with a whole lot of guilt about that.”

I sniffled. “Did Jo find out? About her hitting you.”

“Actually Cam did. He was our neighbor. He found out and told Jo. Well, he thought Jo knew and he gave her a rollicking about it and devastated her, so I gave him a rollicking and he worked his arse off to make it up to her. He changed everything for us. We owe him a lot.”

“And your dad?”

Cole’s face darkened. “He used to beat up Jo when she was a kid. Mick found out and beat the shit out of him and he left. Not long after, he ended up in prison.” His hand tightened on my waist. “He came back when I fourteen. He was trying to blackmail Jo. Said that if she didn’t give him money he would come for me, take me away.”

“Oh my God.”

“Jo tried to keep him from me, tried so hard he got her alone and attacked her as a warning that time was running out.”

There were no words for how shocked I was by all these revelations. I would never have known there was this much darkness in Cole’s past. “She really loves you,” I whispered, tearing up again but this time with gratitude and respect for Cole’s sister.

“Oh yeah.” He grinned, but I could see the overwhelming emotion in his eyes. “She’s a warrior when it comes to me. Always has been. Belle is the luckiest little girl in the world.”

I smiled in agreement before forcing myself to ask, “What happened with your dad?”

“Jo went to Joss and Braden. Braden rounded up Cam and Mick and the three of them took care of it. I didn’t ask and I don’t want to know what happened. All I know is that they protected us and we’ve never heard from that man again.”

He turned suddenly so he was leaning over me, his eyes blazing with passion that held me rooted, frozen beneath him. With trembling hands he brushed my hair from my face. “That’s why you have to know that I won’t ever hurt you like that. Ever. You have to believe that, Shannon.” He leaned down, his lips hovering over mine, and his next words were whispered across my mouth in a plea. “Please believe that.”

Staring up into his gorgeous face and his kind eyes, I felt the memories of the last weeks assaulting me. His patience, his kindness, his compassion, his steadfastness . . . all of it was so much bigger than the hot, cocky, confident tattooist the rest of the world saw.

And like with a hit to the chest, I was winded by the realization that I did believe him.

I believed him.

Scared but needing to reassure him more than I needed to assure myself, I slid my hands around his neck and pressed my mouth against his for a slow, sweet kiss. When I broke it, I stared him straight in the eye and said with a fierceness that surprised even me, “You are not nothing. You are wonderful. Everyone who meets you can’t help adoring you—”

“Shannon—”

“You inspire loyalty in people for a reason, Cole, and your mother was the one that lost out here. She missed out on loving a really, really cool kid.” I smiled through my tears. “And a smart, good man. Don’t feel guilty because you feel more for Elodie Nichols than you did for your mother. Elodie deserves your love. By all accounts your mum never did.”

He shuddered against me, burying his face in my neck and wrapping his arms tight around me.

I held on to him, pouring my love into him, despite all my fears screaming at me not to. “I believe you, Cole,” I whispered. “I believe you.”

Somehow he managed to press his body even closer to me in answer.

CHAPTER 17

I awakened, taking in Cole blearily as he sat up in bed. “Any news?”

The worry in his voice brought me fully into consciousness, the emotional saga of the day hitting me in the chest. The sound of Cole’s phone ringing had woken us both. I shuffled into a sitting position, glancing at his bedside clock. It was eleven o’clock at night. After he had confided in me about his family history, I managed to convince him to eat something. Then we’d both curled up on his bed again and fallen asleep.

“But she’s okay?” he whispered into his phone. I wrapped my arm around him. Cole slid his free arm around my shoulders and hugged me close. I felt his muscles tense. He was silent as the person on the other end of the line answered. “Okay . . . yeah. Thanks, Jo. Speak soon . . . Yeah, you too.” He hung up and glanced down at me.

“That was good news?”

He exhaled. “Elodie had a heart attack.”

“Oh God.” I gripped his arm tighter.

“It’s okay.” He clasped my hand. “They did something . . . angioplasty? It removed a blockage. There’s not too much damage to her heart, so they think she’s going to be okay.”

I was relieved for Elodie, and for Cole and the rest of the family. I hadn’t been around them all a lot, but it didn’t take a genius to realize Elodie was the matriarch of their tribe. “That’s good news.”

He nodded, but the melancholy that had been entrenched in his gaze earlier that day remained. Staring into his gorgeous, soulful eyes, I was overwhelmed by my need to make him happy.

Easing myself over him until I straddled him, I grasped his face in my hands and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “It’s moments like these that remind us just how fleeting it all is.” My hand dropped to his right arm and I caressed the eagle and the pocket watch with my fingertips. “I grew up listening to music, reading books, and watching films that all kept telling me how much we take time for granted. The warning started to lose meaning. And unfortunately it’s only ever when we’re faced with our own mortality that we remember that the world is telling us ‘life is short’ because it’s the truth.” I looked deep into his eyes and felt that connection between us reach out and plunge straight into my chest. I felt breathless, a little light-headed. Scared. “I can’t make promises to you, Cole. Not yet. I really wish I could. But I can try to get there. I want to try to make this work.” I smiled, feeling shy and overwhelmed. “I want this to be a relationship.”

Something brightened in Cole’s eyes, pushing back at the melancholy. He smoothed his hands up my spine, drawing me closer. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?” His voice was gruff, almost teasing.

I leaned into him and whispered against lips, “Are you saying you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Fuck yeah,” he whispered back, and pressed his mouth to mine.

*   *   *

Although Cole said he wanted me to come with him when he visited Elodie in the hospital, I convinced him otherwise. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to support him or show Elodie I was thinking of her. It was because I didn’t feel it was my place yet. I barely knew Elodie, and her heart attack had dredged up so much for Cole. I thought it would be better for him to have some time alone with her.

He visited the hospital the next evening carrying a bouquet of flowers I’d chosen.

Seeing Elodie for himself, getting reassurance that she was going to be all right, took away the grim aspect that had crept into Cole, and as soon as he returned from the hospital to his flat where I was waiting for him, I felt the immediate uplifted change in him. Cole was back to himself again except more. He was even happier than before and I was giddy yet equally terrified that this was because I’d promised to try something serious with him.

I didn’t intend to let that fear control me, however, and I threw myself with a weird kind of trepidation wholly into this new stage of our relationship. It was in my nature to be openly affectionate with a partner, and so with some difficulty I let that part of me out.

I liked hugs and kisses and holding hands.

Thankfully Cole seemed to like all those things too and he went with the change in my behavior without saying a word.

On Wednesday during lunch break we’d locked ourselves in his room and gotten up to no good on his tattoo chair. I was still all hot and bothered a few hours later when he came out of the room with a customer and approached the desk to pay.

“That’s sixty pounds, please,” I said to the tall, lanky guy who had so many tattoos I was surprised they’d found space for a new one.

The guy grinned at me and handed me his card.

As I processed the payment Cole said, “I promised Hannah I’d watch Sophia tomorrow, but I want you at my place for dinner at eight p.m.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Was there a question in there?”

He smoldered. “Please will you join me for dinner, Shannon?”

Oh boy.

I nodded in acquiescence.

“Dude, she’s yours?” the customer asked Cole, who didn’t deign to answer. “Dude!” The guy nudged Cole in the elbow in a “you da man” kind of way.

Cole stared at him blankly.

His customer faltered, his cheekiness disappearing as he tried to shrug on some cool. “I mean, I’m just saying.” His eyes flicked to me and then back to Cole. “She’s hot,” he ended on a whisper.

Cole continued to stare at him blankly.

“Right . . . okay.” The guy took his card and receipt from me. “I’ll just . . .” He gave an awkward wave and scurried out of the studio.

I leaned my elbow on the counter, my chin resting on the heel of my palm. “You deliberately intimidated him.”

My boyfriend gave a lazy shrug before bending down to kiss me. “You’re not some chick I picked up at an American frat house,” he offered as an explanation to his rudeness. I was clearly dating a gentleman.

Pleased, I smiled.

“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”

“Tomorrow,” I promised.

*   *   *

In hindsight the urgent and sudden need I had to take back some of the control I felt I’d lost to Cole was borne from misunderstanding.

I’d gone shopping for something that I hoped would make Cole lose sense and thus perhaps give me back part of the control I felt I was missing.

“I had plans,” Cole said, following me down the hall toward his room. “But if you want to jump right into dessert, I’m good with that.”

It was eight o’clock and I definitely wanted to jump straight into dessert.

I turned around and faced him, drinking in the sight of him. I shivered with anticipation of what was to come. Cole was wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans. He was barefoot. Effortlessly sexy. He just lived and breathed sexiness.

I, however, had to try a little harder.

The tingling began between my legs as soon as I whipped off my shirt and threw it across the room.

Cole’s eyes grew hooded at the sight of me in the emerald green silk and lace bra I’d bought just for the occasion.

I grinned wickedly. “There’s more.”

“Do go on,” he said, voice thick.

Slowly I kicked off my heels and then I unzipped my pencil skirt. I shimmied out of it, revealing the matching silk and lace knickers that were cut high across my butt cheeks. The icing on the cake was something I rarely wore.

Black suspenders and stockings.

Cole’s lips parted as I stepped out of my skirt and leisurely turned, my hair skimming my lower back just above the black dragon tattoo. I arched my back so my bottom stuck out in blatant invitation. Glancing over my shoulder, I noted his cock straining against his zipper. I smiled. “Do you like?”

His chest rose and fell quickly. “Do I like?” he said, his voice rough.

I turned back to face him and caressed my breasts. “I got it especially for you.”

In answer, Cole tugged his T-shirt off, his muscles rippling with the force of the moment. I gave myself an inward high five in triumph.

“Turn and face the wall.” The hard, authoritative words caught me off guard.

“What?” I whispered, uncertain but at the same time turned on by the demand.

“Turn and face the wall.”

I did.

“Brace your hands on the wall and arch your back.”

My lower belly flipped, hard, and as I leaned over to do as he said, I felt the slickness of my arousal between my legs.

“Cole?”

I heard him approach and then his heat hit me seconds before he touched me. He caressed the skin revealed by the high cut of the underwear and then trailed his fingertips down and under them. They slid inside me and I gasped, pushing back against the wonderful intrusion.

“You’re soaked,” he said hoarsely.

I moaned and pressed my hands against the wall to push harder against the thrust of his fingers. “Cole, please.”

He slipped them out of me and grasped my hips. The coarse roughness of a denim-covered erection rubbed against my bottom. “Is this what you want?”

There went my control. But I didn’t feel too badly about that, because I knew Cole was seconds away from losing his grasp on his. “Yes,” I whimpered.

The only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the sound of a zipper. And then the shuffle of his jeans falling to his ankles, followed by the crinkle of a condom wrapper. My inner thighs trembled.

His large hands caressed my bottom, shifting to grab hold of my slender hips. “Spread your legs.”

I felt another deep flip in my belly and I did as I was told.

“Oh God!” I threw my head back, my hands slipping on the wall as Cole thrust into me. His hips stilled, but he slid in deeper as he leaned over to readjust my hands on the wall. I bowed my head, my hair falling around my face, and I stared at the floor, aware of nothing but the feel of him surrounding me, pulsing inside me. Callused hands coasted down my arms and around my ribs and gently pushed up my bra.

Cool air tightened my already pebbled nipples, and my breasts swelled into Cole’s hands as he cupped me.

He kissed my shoulder, brushing his thumbs over my nipples.

He pulled back and then glided in, sparking heat and sensation down all my limbs.

I trembled, holding on for dear life as he pumped in and out of me in increasingly hurried strokes. Sharp arousal shot down my belly as Cole pinched and played with my nipples.

“Come for me, Shannon,” he groaned, his hips jerking harder against me.

I braced my legs and steadied my hands on the wall and I moved back into his thrusts.

“Fuck.” He moved one hand to my hip, his fingers bruising the skin there as he increased the speed of his strokes.

It was coming. The tension inside me hit its breaking point and I froze.

“Yes, yes,” he grunted, sliding his hand up my spine. “Come, Shannon, come.”

On cue the tension split apart and I cried out in release as my sex convulsed around his cock.

“Oh, oh . . . oh . . .” Cole stilled. “F-f-fuck.” He shuddered against me as he came.