Till Death(70)

Cole chuckled from under the sink. “Oh yeah, baby, you can.”

Needless to say I was distracted most of the day.

Cole’s friend showed up in the later part of the afternoon, and he was there until the evening, wiring my apartment along with Mom’s. Both of us got a new key fob out of the deal.

No press showed up, but every time I heard the door open, I waited for that shady journalist to pop back up or for Detective Conrad to come by. Tyron never showed to ask more questions. Later that night, I admitted to Cole that I’d expected the detective to be around, but Cole explained that was common. Tyron had asked all that he needed to at the time, and if he’d missed something, he’d be back.

Cole knocked all thoughts of the detective out of my head when we were in bed. First it was with his hands, his mouth, and then every part of him. Then afterward, when we lay in each other’s arms, he did it again.

“I want you to meet my parents,” he announced.

I was running my fingers over his hand, tracing the line of the bones from knuckle to knuckle. My hand stilled. “Come again?”

“You never got to meet them before,” he continued. “And I want you to meet them.”

“I . . .” I trailed off, because I had no idea what I was about to say.

He threw his long leg over mine. “You’re not planning to go anywhere soon, are you?”

“No.”

“Then I think it’s a great idea for you to meet my parents.”

Mulling that over, I agreed after a few moments. No actual plans were made, and it still felt a little weird thinking and planning for the whole meet-the-parents deal when I was receiving severed fingers in the mail, but I knew it was important to continue living. Not just existing like I had been immediately after the Groom or, in reality, how I’d existed the last ten years. So it was okay to make plans and to live.

Cole woke me up Monday morning, before the first light of dawn had begun to splash across the floors, with his hand between my thighs and his mouth on my breasts.

So I wasn’t complaining.

Not when he flipped me onto my belly and lifted me up onto my knees with an arm around my waist—there was nothing but an excited gasp parting my lips. And when he entered me from behind, complaining was the last thing on my mind.

“Grab the headboard,” he ordered in a rough voice.

Doing what I was told, I held on to the smooth wood. The fullness was insane. He started off with a languid pace, but then he gripped my waist. A moan slid out of me as he started moving fast and hard. My hips pushed back to meet his thrusts. He felt great. Amazing, actually. One hand reached around, swiping his thumb along the knot of nerves, and I came apart, the rippling sensations rolling over me. Grunting, he pumped his hips and then buried deep.

Cole brought me down to the bed, his weight half on me, and I didn’t mind that at all as we both lay there, me on my belly, our bodies tangled together, being surrounded by his weight, his smell—everything. Completely sated, I was floating in that blissed-out half-awake state. His hand trailed down the center of my back and over my hip. “You okay?”

“I’m dead. But I’m dead in a good way,” I mumbled.

He chuckled. “I’m going to head out. Got to head to work. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

His lips brushed my shoulder. “You need an alarm set or anything?”

“Uh-uh.”

“You going to sleep a little more?”

I gave my best impression of a nod.

Laughing the sexy laugh again, he rose over me and kissed my cheek, pulled up the comforter, draping it over my back, and then he was gone. Feeling a way I hadn’t in a long time, I fell back to sleep just the way Cole left me, on my belly and with a smile on my face.



My cellphone rang around ten o’clock Monday morning, while I was about two hours into bookkeeping. When I saw Miranda’s name appear on my screen, I more than welcomed the break.

“What’s up?” I answered.

“Oh my God, girl, why didn’t you tell me Detective Tyron is one fine-looking man?” she demanded.

I blinked. “What? How did you see him?”

“He was here, but I don’t have a lot of time. I’m in between class right now,” she continued. “But you’re not going to believe what is going on and it has to do with why I now know that Detective Conrad will be the father of my future babies.”

Grinning, I rose from the table in the kitchen and stretched out my back. Maybe I had misread the whole Jason thing. “Did he come talk to you about what happened?”

“No. He was here with another detective this morning. I just happened to be talking to Cindy—she’s one of the counselors here, and I saw him talking to Coach Currie. You remember him, right? The hot coach we drooled all over in school? I told you he still works here.”

I walked over to the island. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, I figured the rumors about him having possibly inappropriate relationships with some of the senior girls was finally panning out to be true.”

“What?” My brows flew up.

“But it wasn’t,” she continued like she hadn’t just suggested that the coach was breaking what I assumed was more than one law. “Tammy, who works the front desk and literally can hear a cricket sneeze two rooms over, says they were here questioning the coach about Angela.”