The Birthday List(63)

I took one last look at his bed. The image of me sleeping naked under his sheets popped into my head, but I shook it away. Why was I thinking about sex with Cole? We hadn’t really even kissed yet—unless you counted the brush of our lips in Brad and Mia’s garage. And even then, that hadn’t been the type of kiss that led to a long, sweaty night together and me waking up in his arms.

My body was getting in front of my head and it needed to slow down. Way down. Which meant I needed to get the hell out of Cole’s bedroom.

Slamming the door on all things sex and kissing and the way Cole’s ass looked in his jeans tonight, I followed him into the hall as he started his tour.

“The master used to be two rooms.” He knocked on the wall as he led me down the hall. “I had one converted into the bathroom and closet.”

I ran my hand along the door as I peeked into the guest bedroom. “I love that you kept all of the original doors and trim.”

“Me too. It was a bitch for the construction crew to get cleaned up but worth the added time.”

Cole lived in an older downtown neighborhood in Bozeman. Unlike my house, located in one of the newer, cookie-cutter subdivisions, homes in this area were filled with character and surrounded by hundred-year-old trees.

The trim and doors were a rich brown, similar to the color of the restored hardwood floors. The crown molding, painted white to match the walls and ceilings, was thick and carved with an intricate pattern absent in new homes. And the old brass-and-glass doorknobs were something people would spend a fortune on now.

After showing me another spare bedroom and bathroom, Cole led me down the staircase situated in the center of the house. Just like upstairs, the old-style charm had been restored and mixed with the luxuries of modern-day life.

The fireplace in the living room had all of the original brick but the mantel had been changed to fit a wide TV. He’d kept the antique chandelier in the entryway but added recessed lighting to brighten the space. And he’d had a couple of walls knocked out, opening up the floor plan to fit larger, more comfortable furniture.

Everything in Cole’s house flowed seamlessly, from the living room to the dining room, then to the kitchen of my dreams.

“This is beautiful.” I ran my hand along the gray-and-white marble counter. He had it all. Shining stainless-steel appliances. A top-of-the-line gas range. Pristine white cabinets. The moment I set foot on the black-and-white checked floor tile, I’d gotten the urge to start cooking.

“I’m afraid to tell you that I’ve hardly used this kitchen since I had it updated.”

I gasped. “Shame on you, Cole Goodman.”

“Maybe you can help me break it in.”

Break it in.

He was referring to my cooking skills, but the visual that flew into my head had nothing to do with food. I saw myself sitting on the counter, naked, with Cole between my legs, his cock buried deep inside of me as I moaned to the ceiling.

A hot wave spread over my shoulders and down my back as I throbbed between my legs. My nipples hardened against my bra, straining against the thin padding, as my eyes wandered to Cole.

He was watching me, his eyes darkening as if he’d seen the same naughty image in his mind. His chest was rising and falling with short breaths and his hands were fisted at his sides—like he was holding himself on his side of the kitchen.

My gaze dropped to his mouth, unable to look away from his soft, pink lips.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him so badly, all of the worry, the indecision I’d held on to these last couple of months just . . . disappeared. There was no room in my head for anything other than getting Cole to kiss me.

Slowly, my hands came off my sides, and with my eyes locked on his face, I twisted my wrists in a slight circle.

My signal.

Cole watched my hands as I twirled once, then twice, before he swallowed hard. “Poppy.” His voice was rough and deep. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Kiss me, Cole.”

In two huge strides, he erased the distance between us. His hands dove into my damp hair as his palms pressed against my jaw. Then his lips molded to mine.

A zing shot through my body as his tongue stroked across my lower lip, coaxing my mouth open. When my lips parted, his tongue swept inside. And he tasted so good—better than anything I could ever make in this kitchen.

I moaned into his mouth as his tongue started exploring. My hands gripped tight to his shirt, holding on as his hands left my face and banded around my back.

Cole pulled me so close that every inch of him was pressed up against me. His solid chest. His muscled thighs. His cock straining beneath his jeans.

With his mouth devouring mine, Cole sparked a fire inside of me that had been only embers for years. The burn was so hot, I could barely stand it. So with desire in charge, I kissed Cole with everything I had. I held him closer, pulling and sucking him in, but it wasn’t enough. I thrust my hips forward, grinding against his, hoping for relief, but the friction only fanned the flames.

I released Cole’s shirt and ran my hands down his backside, squeezing hard when I reached his perfect ass. When Cole groaned, the rumble vibrated down my throat, making me squeeze again, this time even harder.

One second his tongue was working magically against mine, and then it was gone. He broke away from me, panting for breath as I did the same.

“Fucking hell, woman.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “God, I could kiss you forever.”