Cooper (Wild Boys After Dark, #4)(6)
Cici’s brows knitted together as she turned toward him again. Then her gaze softened and her voice followed. “Can you stay and talk now?”
Chapter Three
THE SOUND OF the door clicking shut made Cici’s stomach go a little crazy. But when she saw Cooper standing a few inches away, she realized that it wasn’t just her stomach that was veering off the deep end. Her entire body was on the verge of going up in flames. She ached for what he’d gone through. In all the scenarios she’d played out, not one of them had included a tragedy. What did that say about her? And what did it say about her that now, as he looked at her with desire and regret, she had visions of tossing him down on the mattress and f*cking the years away.
Unfinished business, that’s all this is.
The temperature in the room spiked, just as it had when they’d first met. She shifted her eyes away from his, but the heat of his stare made her want to tear his clothes off even more. She tried to remember how hurt she’d been when he’d disappeared, but all she could grasp was the sorrow in his voice and the grief in his eyes when he’d told her why.
He reached for the wine. “Shall we have a drink? Take the edge off?”
“Sure.” She watched as he poured the wine, knowing nothing could take the edge off the vibrations rolling through her. His chest and arms had thickened over the years, and when he handed her the glass, he kept ahold of it, his eyes never leaving hers. The seconds ticked away, desire burning between them like fire sizzling up the wick of a candle.
“Feel that?” His eyes narrowed, darkened. “All these years later, all the unhappiness that unfolded, and we’re still us.”
“Yes.” The breathiness of her voice surprised her. This was how it had been with Cooper, like their bodies knew before their brains did that they needed to be together. The first time she’d seen him, she’d been unable to look away. She’d lied to Tegan. It hadn’t taken more than him reaching for her hand for her to agree to go back to his room that first night they’d met. They’d barely spoken more than their names and a few heated whispers, but she’d felt connected to him on a level she’d never felt before. Like she’d had this empty place beside her for her whole life and he was the only one meant to fill it. From that first moment, they’d spent every minute of that amazing week together. They’d fallen into a routine as naturally as they’d breathed. She’d been unable to fight the attraction then, and she knew, just feeling his hand on hers, that she was skirting a dangerous line now.
Her pulse quickened as she stepped closer to him, unwilling to resist the invitation. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, and she closed her eyes for a second, reveling in the familiarity and thrill his touch had always brought. Oh, how she loved his firm grip, the strength of his hands.
“We should talk,” he rasped against her cheek.
She felt the air pulsing in the space between them, felt the heat of his body warming her from head to toe.
Unable to think past the feel of him, she managed to whisper, “Yes.”
His hand slid down her arm, leaving a burning trail of goose bumps. He took her hand and led her to the chairs by the table beneath the window. The twitching in his jaw as he lowered her to a chair indicated that he was trying to keep himself under control, because if he weren’t, he’d have led her to the bed.
Lord. She was in big trouble, because she wished he had.
She sank down to the hard wooden chair, watching as he pulled his chair so close, his knee slid between hers. The grazing of their thighs sent a bolt of lust between her legs, short-circuiting her brain.
He sipped his wine, then set the glass on the table and took her glass from her hands and set that aside, too. She’d forgotten she was holding it. His eyes moved over her face, lingering around her eyes, then lowered to her mouth. She trapped her lip again, and he smiled with a huff of air, a soft laugh that tugged at her memories. She loved his laugh, and when he closed his eyes for a beat and licked his lips, she recognized that, too. He did that when he was overcome with desire and needed to regain control. Dropping her eyes to the impressive bulge straining beneath his zipper, she saw that her memory had served her well, and it sent a shiver of arousal through her, knowing that she still had the same effect on him.
When he met her gaze, he whispered, “God, I’ve missed you. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered, Ceese.”
The endearment made her insides melt. She leaned closer. Damn her to hell, she wanted him again. She wanted to taste the lips she’d dreamed of every night since the day they’d left each other four years ago. She wanted to feel his strength consume her the way nothing else ever could.
“I have nothing to hide,” he said softly, “but I don’t know where to start. I’ve been lost since the attack, moving through life on the wings of every minute without feeling anything beyond hurt and anger. Then Jackson got engaged, and I finally came out from under the numbness of it all, and all I wanted was you, Ceese.”
Oh God. The truth in his eyes and the honesty in his voice shattered any desire she had to hash out the details and spend all night working through the last four years. She couldn’t do that right now, when she could barely focus on anything but remembering to breathe. Not when his emotions were so raw that just hearing the ache in his voice nearly made her want to cry.