Tangled in Tinsel (Holidates #1)(11)

My stomach contracts, fingernails scraping the glass as I pant louder and louder, losing control, wanting the sweet explosion. God, I want to come. I’m pressed closer into the pulsating stream, that sweet sting attacking my clit as I grind, rock, and whimper, circling my hips.

“Fuck me. Eat me. Oh my god.”

My voice is raw, husky, and full of desire. I’m so close…I just need…I need…

Like a siren’s call, his face appears so clear in my mind.

He walks into the room, rolling up those shirtsleeves. Watching me with his friends. With a look of approval, the one I’m already obsessed with, written all over his face.

“Tell me I’m a good girl, Cole. Say it,” I moan, too loudly, picturing how he mouthed it earlier tonight before dinner.

That’s all I need. I come. Hard. Jaw snapped shut, eyes squeezed close. I’m greedy, chasing all the pleasure my body has to give, thrusting forward as all my muscles stay tensed.

I can barely hold myself up as I jerk, unable to handle it anymore. The showerhead drops, swinging below me, spraying the wall as I stare at the tile floor, trying to catch my breath.

Fuck, that was good.

I lean down, picking up the showerhead after somehow turning it off, whispering, “I love you,” to it. Chuckling as I add, “The guys are wrong. You’re the real MVP.”

My head shifts sideways, my body all tingly as my eyes catch the towel on the floor.

Drying off with a wet towel… I guess beggars can’t be choosers.

There has to be more in here somewhere. I walk on shaky legs out of the enclosure, nabbing the wet cotton mess and wringing it out before searching the bathroom. But there’s nothing.

You’ve got to be kidding me. This was the only towel.

Basic skills, guys—cooking, having towels in the bathroom, sheesh. What does Alec do, air dry?

I smirk because the thought isn’t awful.

But I’m not doing the same, so I dry myself with a small amount of dry section before wrapping it around me and opening the door. The moment I do, I freeze. Because sitting on my bed is Cole.

The Cole who wasn’t supposed to be here anymore.

The Cole who left me all hot and bothered.

The fucking Cole I just moaned to call me a good girl.

He’s staring at me, towel over one knee, forearm rested on the other. Cole closes and flexes his fist, and I swear my eyes fixate on the veins bulging from his arm.

“What are you still doing here?” I say, hushed, swallowing after.

Please say you didn’t hear. I’ll die. Suddenly I’m feeling very, very sober. Fear of dying from embarrassment has a way of doing that.

He glances at the towel on his knee. “You needed a new one.”

I should say thank you, but I just stand there because before I can, he shoots to his feet, stalking over to me. Looming above like a giant fucking rain cloud.

So I immediately whisper, “Thank you?”

“Now you remember your manners?”

What? His hand bunches the cotton material in the front of the towel before roughly tugging me forward, forcing me to grab the top so I’m not exposed. Cole bends down as I stare up.

Holy shit.

Our lips come so close that I don’t even register the rest of the world.

Consequences, what are those? Bad choices? Sign me up.

“You forgot to say please, Samantha.” The deep gravel in his voice makes me shiver. “‘Tell me I’m a good girl’…Please. Now, use your words, baby, and ask me nicely.”

He heard. My entire body quakes because I’m turned on instead of the embarrassment I’d braced for. But still, nothing comes out of my mouth. I can’t speak. All my thoughts feel like mush.

I’m caught in his spell. And I don’t want out. I’ve been attracted to him since the day we met. His grumpy, broody silence was my favorite color—red flag. Every piece of me is screaming to cross the line.

Cole draws back, dragging his thumb over my bottom lip as he watches.

“Too chicken? Then let’s start with something easier. How about you answer my question.”

Oh. Shit. He’s talking about when he said, “Boyfriend?”

I feel like I’m going to explode. How Cole looks at me like he’s about to throw me on the floor and fuck my brains out has made me putty in his hands. Except I’m still feisty.

“I did answer.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, dragging me flush against him. Making me gasp.

“That’s one, Samantha. If I get to the three, this fucking towel comes with me. Now, answer my question.”

My eyes narrow with boldness.

“I did answer. You just don’t like what I said.”

“Two,” he levels, jaw tensing.

He wouldn’t really take it. Would he? Who am I kidding? He absolutely would.

“Oh, come on,” I snark, throwing my arms up, daring him. “Sometimes, you just have to take the L, Cole.”

“Three.”

Oh shit. My hands shoot to the towel to hold it in place. “Okay, okay. The answer’s no. No boyfriend. Happy?”

The look he’s giving me says it all.

Cole heard precisely what he wanted to hear. And that, for whatever reason, is the catalyst for my rational thinking to click back into place. Maybe because of how his head tilts as his eyes drop to my mouth. Or how tight he’s gripping the towel around my body like it’s about to be taken. But suddenly, everything feels so real.