Till Death(47)

The hand at my back slipped to my hip and his hold tightened. I shifted, wanting to get closer, and he seemed to be of the same mind, because at the same time I squirmed, he dropped both hands to my hips. He lifted as I moved, and then I was straddling him, a knee planted into the couch on either side of him. There wasn’t a break in kissing. My hands were sliding, my fingers sifting through the silky strands of his hair.

A moan curled its way out of my throat as his hips lined up with mine. Holy wow. I could feel him and that definitely was not pity. That was a whole lot of arousal. My heart rate sped up, and I melted into him, into the kiss.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned against my mouth. Both of us were breathing heavy when we came up for air. “I forgot this.”

My thoughts were spinning as I opened my eyes. “Forgot what?”

“How this felt.” He slid his other hand down my throat to the nape of my neck as his hips jerked under mine. “How you felt.”

Oh my God.

He rested his forehead against mine. “How one fucking kiss makes me feel like a sixteen-year-old boy who’s never even been close to a girl.”

Oh. My. God.

“Did you?” he asked after a moment. “Did you forget?”

My eyes fluttered shut. “No,” I admitted. “I never forgot.”

The hand along the back of my neck clenched. “Does it make me an ass to admit I’m glad to hear that?”

I grinned. “I don’t think so.”

His head tilted slightly and he kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’m going to be up front with you. Okay?”

Kissing me seemed really up front, I thought, but I nodded anyway.

“I told you that the moment Derek said you were here, I didn’t think twice. I had to see you. Heading here, I honestly don’t remember what I was thinking.” He tipped his head in the other direction and kissed the other corner of my lip. “I didn’t want that side of your lip to get jealous.”

I laughed, feeling a hundred pounds lighter.

His lips curved into a grin. “When I got to the inn and I saw you . . . well, some things about my life suddenly made real fucking sense to me.”

And that made absolutely no sense to me.

Cole dragged his hand down the center of my back, causing me to shiver. He drew away and placed his hands on my hips again. Without warning, I was on my back and he was hovering above me, one hand by my waist, an elbow pressing into the cushion by my head.

Stunned at his strength, my hands went to his chest. I didn’t push him away. “What . . . what made sense to you?” I asked.

He lowered his head instead of answering, and his mouth moved over mine, coasting softly until he urged my lips open. His tongue touched mine, and the kiss deepened. It was different like this, with me on my back and him above me. He shifted his body down again, slowly, and only until I could feel a little of his weight, a little of him.

I was kissing him back, and I wanted more. Fingers balling into his shirt, I tried to pull him down, but he resisted, controlling how much he was giving me. “Cole,” I whispered, feeling like I was on fire, burning from the inside in the most delicious way. It had been a long time since I felt this way. Too long.

“We have ten years’ worth of stuff to talk about,” he said against my mouth. “There’s still a lot we need to say.”

“I know.” I wanted him closer, so I curled my left leg around him. Biting down on my lip, I lifted my hips just the slightest, pressing into his. He made that sound again and dropped his head to my neck.

Cole kissed me there, just below my pulse. “Still trying to take this slow, babe. That’s the smart thing to do.”

I dragged my hands up to his shoulders, restless. “I . . . I can do this.”

A moment passed and Cole lifted his head. Heated blue eyes met mine. Warmth invaded my cheeks. “I’ve had sex since . . . since then,” I told him. I’d been a virgin when the Groom came into my life. I hadn’t been afterward, and it took years with lots of therapy and failed dates for me to go there with my body and to trust another person in that way, but I had. “I’m not scared . . . of sex.”

“Babe,” he murmured, kissing me softly. “I’m relieved to hear that you’ve moved on in that way, but I still don’t want to rush it.”

“I appreciate that, but . . .”

Those remarkable eyes were fixed on my mouth, and I liked that. A lot. Heat was pounding through my veins, and I wanted to rush things, because I knew there wasn’t always a next time. There wasn’t always a promise of tomorrow, and we were two adults who wanted what we wanted.

Instead of speaking, I cupped his cheeks and drew his mouth back to mine. This time when I kissed him, I threw everything I wanted into the kiss, and I curled my leg around his once more, lifting my hips to his. Oh, he wanted this as badly as I did. Cole made that sound again, and things . . . well, they spiraled beautifully out of control.

He glided his hand down my throat and over my shoulder, brushing the cardigan aside, and heady awareness followed. I gasped into his mouth as his palm coasted over the top of my breast. The material was so thin it was like there was nothing between our flesh. My nipple pebbled, and he groaned. Air hitched in my throat, and every cell in my body waited. He didn’t let me down.

Cole slipped his hand under the cami, and I jerked. His fingers skimmed the side of my stomach, and my eyes flew open as a tiny bit of heat faded. He was near . . . a scar—a scar that had long since healed, but was still raised and rough, and weirdly sensitive. But he didn’t touch it. Oh no, those fingers found the tip of my aching breast as his kiss took on a different strength, becoming demanding. He caught my lower lip, and I let out a little breathless moan. Everything about him invaded me—the taste, his smell, the way he felt. The liquid fire burning in my core was too potent to ignore, and I shivered when he spoke in a deep, rumbling voice.