Till Death(67)

He lifted his chin as a tense, aware energy poured off him.

“I want to feel.” I made up my mind right then as I stared at him standing by my bed, so stunning and so strong—but more than that, he was here. Drawing in a shallow breath, I walked up to him and placed my hands on his bare chest. His skin was hot under my palms, and I felt his sharp inhale in every cell of my being. I tipped my head back. “Stay with me tonight,” I whispered. “Be with me tonight.”





Chapter 20




The breath that Cole inhaled was ragged as his hands closed into fists at his sides. “I’m here with you. I’m not anyplace else.”

“I know.” I slid my hands down over his hard stomach, marveling at the way his body jerked at my simple touch. He had those muscles on either side of his hip bone. They fascinated me. “But I want . . .”

His hands reopened at his sides. “You want what?”

“You.” I lifted my gaze to his once more. “I want all of you.”

“Christ,” he groaned, lips parting as he raised his hands and touched my bare arms with just the tips of his fingers. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. Feels like an eternity.”

I slid my hands to his sides and then stretched up, kissing him. His fingertips coasted down to my wrists, where he loosely wrapped his hands.

“A lot has happened today,” he said, voice strained. “I don’t want you—”

“I know what I want.” I settled back and met his gaze. “I know what I’m feeling. This has nothing to do with today.” My chest rose sharply. “I want you.”

He lifted my hands back to his chest. “You have me, babe.”

“Prove it.”

His nostrils flared and he didn’t move. He just held my hands to his chest, and I thought he was going to turn me down. He was going to use some rational excuse for why we shouldn’t do this, and I was going to resort to desperate measures.

I had no idea what those desperate measures would be.

But then he moved, sliding his hands back up my arms. He lifted me up onto the tips of my toes and brought my mouth to his.

And his kiss told me he wasn’t going to deny me.

I loved the way he kissed—how he tasted me with every part. My breath hitched and then sped up as one hand dropped. Circling an arm around my waist, he brought me against him, and I could feel him pressing against my lower stomach.

There was no going back from this moment, and I dove in headfirst. Need rose swiftly, and I was so lost for him, so hot with a need that spanned a decade. I’d waited so long for this. We’d both waited so long for this.

“Hurry,” I pleaded.

He moaned against my lips. “You’re going to kill me.”

Sensual heat flowed through my veins as his other hand skimmed down my side and slipped under the hem of my nightie, ghosting up my thigh. He kissed me hard, dragging his tongue over mine. I gasped into his hot mouth when he cupped my rear and squeezed.

And then he let me go.

A cry of disappointment rose in my throat and then faded like smoke in the wind when his heated gaze locked with mine. The intense look in his pale blue eyes stole my breath and caused a series of shivers to skate all over my skin.

Cole’s hands went to his zipper. The tinny sound of it coming down echoed throughout the room. Hooking his fingers into his jeans and tight black briefs, he swiped both off in one quick, smooth motion, and then he was completely nude.

I inhaled, at a loss for words as I stared at him. His body was beautiful. A work of chiseled muscles and lean length. A faint, light dusting of hair covered him, and his erection was thick and long, jutting out.

Cole was . . . he was not lacking in that department, and he was more than beautiful, and I . . . I wasn’t. My body wasn’t all long and lean lines. It was more lumpy and curvy. Actually, I was pretty sure some of the lumps had their own curves. It was far from flawless, and then there were the scars.

No one had seen me nude.

I swallowed hard and then turned, heading for the nightstand lamp he’d turned on when he came in here.

“What are you doing?” Cole asked, his deep voice raspy and about five hundred different types of sexy.

My cheeks flushed. “Just turning off the light.”

“No.”

I stilled. “What?”

He approached me slowly, cupping my cheeks. “I want to see you.”

“No, you don’t,” I whispered.

His head tilted to the side. “There is nothing about you that I don’t want to see. Nothing about you that doesn’t turn me the fuck on.”

Heart racing, I shook my head. “You don’t know, Cole. I . . .”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know what happened to you. I want to see you. Please give me that. Give me you.”

Give me you.

Those three words shattered my defenses, and I found myself whispering yes. Still holding my gaze, he gathered up my nightie and carefully lifted it over my head. The material disappeared, and I was standing in front of him in just my pale pink panties. Not even sexy panties. Cotton ones. With pink and blue flowers, I believed.

Cole wasn’t looking at my undies though.

His gaze was trained on my chest in a way that made me flush. I wanted to cover them and I wanted him to look his fill. The tips of my breasts tingled and hardened. I didn’t think he was checking out the faint pink raised scar that had almost ended my life.