Hollywood Dirt (Hollywood Dirt, #1)(96)
It wasn’t I love you. But when he wrapped his hands around my back and lifted me up, his butt pushing off the porch and onto the grass, his hands gentle when they lowered me to the ground… when he pulled down his shorts and lifted my dress, his body settling over me, his lips on my skin, his name a gasp from my lips when he pushed himself inside… it was, in that moment, enough. Having Cole Masten addicted to me was enough. Having him tell me that Scott was wrong and I wasn’t broken… that was more than enough.
CHAPTER 104
The power came on, at some point during the night. I heard Cole stand, heard the slide of wood as he shut the windows, then he was back in bed, with his hand sliding around my waist as he pulled me against him. I was naked, and his chest against my back was warm and comforting, his hand, cupping my breast strong and possessive. He gently kissed the back of my neck, and I smiled. He said something, but I didn’t hear it, sleep pulling me back under.
In the morning, I woke first, his arm hot and heavy against my chest. Sunlight was streaming through the curtains, and I blinked a few times at the alarm clock, trying to see the time. Ten fifteen. We’d slept late. I slid carefully out from underneath his arm and walked downstairs. Pulled on Cole’s T-shirt, abandoned on the living room floor, and my panties, which had somehow ended up on the stairs, then put Cocky in the backyard and laughed as he chased a squirrel, his chest puffed, wings flapping. Our leftover steaks were in the fridge so I tossed them in a skillet, heating them on low while I got out eggs and milk, stepping over Nerf bullets as I moved, my grin widening as I remembered our late night battle. I’d claimed the kitchen as my base, Cole had taken the dining room, and we’d played capture the rooster handkerchief. Afterward, when I’d run around, picking up bullets while swigging wine, Cole had mentioned a maid. Now, in the light of day, my eyes skipped over the carnage with a wince. I cracked the final egg in the skillet and heard Cole’s voice holler from upstairs.
“What?” I yelled back, spatula in hand, the egg popping in the hot skillet.
“Come back to bed!” His voice sounded groggy.
“Come down to breakfast!” I tossed my yell up the stairs, then moved quickly back to the skillet, stirring the eggs before they browned. I heard a response, some words bellowed out, and ignored them, a smile eating at the corner of my mouth. A few seconds later, feet hit the floor, and I heard the stumble of him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
“Morning.” His voice still held cobwebs, and I turned with a smile, one hand holding the skillet, the other spooning scrambled eggs onto a plate. I almost dropped the iron skillet when I saw him.
He was naked, his right hand unsuccessfully over his junk, half of it peeking out from said hand. His abs were on full display, his body beautiful, the lines and cuts of his shoulders, the hard plane of his chest, the clench of his forearm as he adjusted his grip and still didn’t wrangle it all. “Morning.” I grinned.
“You can’t cook breakfast in my shirt unless you want a f*cking.” He growled out the words and pulled at himself, his eyes doing a full sweep of me.
“You can’t eat my breakfast if you don’t put on some pants.” I pointed with a spatula at his shorts, which lay in a pile by the fridge. Ah… yes. The whipped cream. He was worried it would spoil due to the lack of refrigeration. I had suggested we stick it in the outside freezer. He had popped off the cap with his teeth and grinned at me, turning his head and spitting it out, and if that hadn’t been the sexiest thing ever, I didn’t know what was. Possibly what happened next, his slow wander behind me, his mouth dropping to my neck, his teeth gentle when they closed on my shoulder, his hands dropping from Summer’s Favorite Organ Ever and running up my hips, under his big shirt and settling on my waist, his head tilting as he looked under the shirt. “Oh… Summer…” he tsked his tongue, his fingers sliding under the edges of my underwear. “These are going to get in the way.”
“No they’re not,” I warned, setting down the spatula and turning to face him, fixing to tell him off for interrupting my cooking. But when I turned around, he bumped against my thighs, and my eyes dropped and stared and when I looked back up, at his cocky face, his hands pulling me forward, his mouth dropping for a kiss… Well, a woman could only be so concerned with eggs when a man was that naked and hard for her. I reached back and flipped off the burner.
CHAPTER 105
Cole was done for. He’d kept thinking, after sex, that it’d fade. That he’d come to his senses and find his footing. Realize that she was a normal girl and that they’d had one night of fun and now filming should be smoother, his life in Quincy less antagonistic. But he was still crazy in the middle of the night, when he fought sleep just so that he could enjoy holding her just a little bit longer. And he was definitely still crazy when he woke up, a morning chub out of control, and craved her. Smelling food, finding her in his shirt, in his kitchen, a spatula in hand, had made it even worse. He’d been attracted to women before, had loved f*cking Nadia, but had never had someone crawl under his skin like this. He looked at this woman and saw her bouncing his child on her hip, saw her running through the field on his Montana ranch, saw her sitting in a velvet seat at the Academy Awards, her hand light on his arm, her mouth warm against his ear. And all of those images scared the hell out of him.