She disappeared into the kitchen. He had no idea whether he should follow her and reassure her there was no way he was going to repeat what happened that morning, or just ignore the whole thing.
He’d ignore it. Much easier.
“Want a coffee?” she asked from the kitchen.
“Sure.” He pushed all thoughts of getting naked with her from his mind. Yeah, right. Ignoring the memory was going to be so easy.
Inhaling deeply, he went in the kitchen.
“The yard’s looking good.” She pushed a couple of mugs around the table with her finger. “I don’t think Scott expected to work his ass off today.”
“Serves him right for turning up like that.” And for ramming home the fact that Paris was untouchable.
“Let’s hope he gets blisters.” She shot him a quick smile, and his good intentions withered. Fuck. This was crazy. Everything she did turned him on. He watched her pour the coffee and she even managed to make that look sexy as hell.
He grunted his thanks and took a mouthful that nearly scalded the shit out of him. Then they stood in silence for a few moments, until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, and escaped.
It was only when he stood in the middle of the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist that he remembered he hadn’t brought any clean clothes in with him. He eyed the jeans he’d tossed off earlier, but they were disgusting.
Great. At least it wasn’t far to his room.
He pulled open the door and came face-to-face with Paris.
She raked her gaze over him as if she’d never seen a guy wearing only a towel before. It didn’t help that the towel barely covered his junk, or that her gaze snagged on his groin as if she could see what was going on between his legs.
Fuck. She couldn’t, could she? Heat rolled through him. This hallway was too fucking small for the both of them. He offered her what he hoped was a brotherly grin and stepped out of her way.
“Uh,” she said, as she stepped sideways at the exact same time he did. They ended up practically toe-to-toe. “Sorry.” Her voice was breathless, but she didn’t attempt to move again. Nor did he.
“It’s okay.” He had no idea what was okay, or why she’d felt the need to say sorry in the first place. Probably because he was having trouble thinking of anything but how much he wanted to plunge his fingers through her hair and kiss her fucking senseless.
Back the hell off, Cooper. He’d crossed the line once. He wouldn’t again.
“Crappy plumbing, huh.”
“What?” Plumbing? What the hell?
“Runs hot and cold.” She took a deep breath and he zeroed in on her breasts. Not that he could see much, but what he could see looked great. He swallowed and dragged his attention back to her face. Her lips were parted and her cheeks were pink.
His dick stood to attention and he grabbed his towel before the damn thing dropped to the floor. She’s my best friend’s little sister. He was supposed to be keeping her safe, not thinking of how she looked when she came.
He tried to focus on their conversation if you could call it that. “Yeah. Fucking awful.” Truth was he’d hardly noticed since he’d had a cold shower in any case. Not that it worked. He still damn well wanted her.
“Better put it on my to-do list.” Her voice was breathy.
He cleared his throat. He’d never had a to-do list in his life, but right now he did, and Paris was the only thing on it.
Stop thinking about her like that.
“I can take a look at it in the morning if you want.”
She licked her lips. He told himself he didn’t notice. “You’re kind of handy to have around, aren’t you?”
No one had ever told him that before. “I like fixing things.”
Her gaze slid from his face to his chest. “You fixed my bike once.”
Her bike? His fist tightened around the towel as he tried to make sense of her comment. “Oh, yeah.” He gave a pained laughed. Shit, that hurt. “Couldn’t leave you crying in the gutter, could I?”
She looked up at him again. Her eyes were all big and dark, and her lips were going to haunt his dreams.
“I used to pretend you were my other brother.”
Well, fuck. That told him. “You were always the little sister I never had.” But that was when they were kids. They weren’t kids now, and he sure as hell didn’t look on her as his sister anymore.
She let out a ragged breath that sent shivers across his chest. He was going to have to get away from her, while he could still think straight.
And then she ran the tip of her finger over his pecs.
Don’t do that.
Don’t fucking stop.
Jesus, I’m losing my mind.
“Cooper.” Her whisper killed whatever was left of his good sense, and with a growl he dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her toward him.
She tasted just as good as before, sweet and sexy all rolled into one, and when she wound her arms around his neck he forgot about hanging onto the towel and gripped her ass instead.
When he came up for air she looked up at him, her hair all messy around her face. “I don’t think of you as my brother anymore,” she said.
“Fucking good thing.”
Let the fuck go of her.
His grip tightened. “This is crazy. You know that, right?”
“Yes.” She pressed herself against him. His towel unwrapped. “God, Cooper. I want you so much.”
She was Scott’s sister. He would kill him if he found out about this. It seemed a fair exchange.
He hoisted her into his arms, and with a giggle that damn near blew his mind she wrapped her legs around his waist. In two strides he was outside his bedroom. She gasped against his ear as he went in the room and kicked the door shut behind him.
“You sure about this?” If they went much further he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.
So stop right now. Put her down and walk the fuck away.
Her legs tightened around him. “No.” She panted in his face and her fingers tangled in his hair. “But I’ve always wanted to have spontaneous sex.”
He laughed. “You’ve never had spontaneous sex before?” He carried her to his bed but couldn’t let her go. “That’s sad, babe.”
“I know. Tonight I’ll be Lola. How about that?”
“I don’t fucking want Lola.”
Her smile damn near made him go dizzy. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“You must meet some weird fucks.” He wasn’t sure whether she was joking or not, but he had the strange feeling she was serious. “I don’t even watch your soap.”
She sighed and gave a delicate shiver that caused his cock to throb. “That’s the second nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. You’re a terrible flirt, Cooper.”
He had the insane urge to laugh again. Sex was never something he’d taken seriously in his life, but neither had it ever been this much fun—and they hadn’t even screwed yet.
This is wrong.
Except it didn’t feel wrong. It felt so damn right.
As he lowered her onto the bed, her hair tumbled over the pillows. She was still smiling up at him, and then her gaze slid south as she took in the rest of his body.
Her smile froze as she stared at his junk. Never had that reaction before. Girls tended to like what they saw there. A lot.
He glanced down, just to make sure everything was in working order. Too fucking right it was. With a groan he straddled her, pressing her thighs together. She was still having trouble dragging her gaze from between his legs. Must be something there she liked, then.
“It’s your turn.” He flattened her palms on the pillows and threaded his fingers through hers. She stared up at him and it was obvious she had no idea what he was talking about. “Say something nice about me.”
Huh. Why had he said that? She wanted to sleep with him. That was more than enough—but after all her giggl
es and breathy little teasing now there was something off about her reaction, and he wanted to know why.
So why hadn’t he just asked her that straight out?
The tip of her tongue peeked between her lips. Was she nervous? That was such a smack in the face he pulled up, giving her more space to breathe. He steeled his nerves for her to tell him she’d changed her mind.
“Um,” she said, and there was a definite waver in her voice. “You have a very impressive penis.”
It took him a whole second to realize his mouth had dropped open. “What?” Had she just told him he had a nice penis? He’d not heard that word since he’d been in school.
“Yes.” Her fingers twitched around his. “I mean I knew it was big from this morning, but I guess your jeans kind of…contained things.”
“Glad you approve.” He grinned down at her and his impressive penis basked in her approval. He pulled one hand free and started to unbutton her shirt.
She trailed a finger over his shoulder and then circled his nipple. Would she care if he just ripped her shirt open and to hell with the buttons?
“The thing is…it’s been a while for me.”
He grunted in approval as her sexy as hell bra came into view. It was pink and lacy and pushed her tits up like a fucking banquet. “Been a while for me, too.” Almost three weeks. A lifetime.
“I’m not talking about a few months.” He had no idea why she felt the need to talk at all, but forced himself to glance up at her so she knew he was listening. Kind of. “It’s been a couple of years. So that’s why I’m just a little…you know…out of practice.”
That got his attention, even if he couldn’t believe his ears. “Two years?”
“Yeah, well. Hudson was such a jerk.”
He fisted his hand on the bed and loomed over her. “No sex for two years?”
She blinked up at him. “I don’t suppose you count this morning?”
He did count this morning, but not in the way she meant. “Christ, Paris. Aren’t there any men in Hollywood?”
“Not like you.” She cupped his jaw. It was…odd. But it felt good. “And I’m not just saying that to be nice. Are we done with the compliments now?”
Two years. He couldn’t wrap his brain around it. Paris was gorgeous, so obviously it was her decision, not through lack of choice… And she’d chosen him.
It didn’t make any kind of sense, but he wasn’t about to call her on it.
“No.” He cradled her breast. She wasn’t that big, but she filled his palm. “Your tits are perfect. All right?”
She wriggled, pressing herself more firmly into his hand. “Connoisseur of tits, are you?’
“I know what I like.” He pulled back the edge of her bra, exposing her nipple. “I’m going to have to get you naked. This is killing me.”
Her hand dropped from his face, and she tugged at the zipper of her jeans. “God, Cooper. Please tell me you have condoms.”
“I have condoms.” He never traveled without packing a few. Not that he’d planned on using them with her, which was why he’d been caught unprepared that morning. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and ripped them down her legs. She kicked them off, and he stared, transfixed, at the tiny scrap of pink lace that covered her sex. “A whole box.”
She gave a shaky sigh and scraped her nails along his biceps. “Hoping to get lucky this week, were you?”
He sucked her nipple until she writhed beneath him. Her sexy little gasps made it hard to think straight. He lifted his head just enough so her nipple popped out of his mouth. “Not this lucky.”
She arched her back. “I need you inside me.”
Who was he to argue with that? He gave her a rough kiss, pushing his tongue inside her mouth until her whole body shuddered. “Hold that thought,” he growled, before rolling off the bed and grabbing his backpack.
Pocket. Box. Fucking cellophane. His cock was going to blow at this rate, a situation not helped by Paris trailing her finger across her stomach. Any other time he’d be happy to watch the show but right now he was too close to the edge.
He kneeled at the end of the bed and ripped off her skimpy thong. She was smooth as silk. Not a hair in sight. A strangled groan grazed his throat. A part of him had known that from this morning, but he’d been more focused on getting her off.
“You’re beautiful.” He couldn’t tear his gaze from her. She pressed her thighs together, raised her head, and peered at him. There was a cute frown on her face as though she wasn’t sure about his reaction. He shoved his knee between her ankles and forced her legs apart. “Don’t hide from me. Let me see you.”
“You’re staring.” She covered herself with her hand. Her sudden attack of modesty was a gut-punching reminder she hadn’t done anything like this for years. He wasn’t sure why that was such a turn-on, but hell, it turned him inside out. He crawled further up the bed, pushing her legs wider, until he loomed over her.
“I’m not staring. I’m drinking in the sight of you naked in my bed.”
She pulled her hand from between her legs, and it brushed against his dick. He swallowed a groan.
“You say the best things.” She hooked her ankles around his calves and his cock nudged her stomach. “I don’t care how many times you’ve said them before.”
He braced his weight on his elbows and cupped her breasts, pushing them together until they all but spilled from her sexy bra. “I’ve never said that before.”
“So nice,” she gasped. “You not being an actor. Means I can believe you.”
She scraped her nails along his back and dug them into his ass. He pushed his hand between their bodies. She was so wet, and bucked against him when he circled her slick little clit.
“Believe this,” he growled and thrust into her. Christ. The sound of her shocked gasp mingled with the roar in his head. She was so fucking tight he forgot how to breathe.
“Jesus, Cooper.” Her panted words and the way she gripped his ass shoved him further to the edge. “Fuck. Oh my God.”
He pulled out a fraction. She squeezed his length so damn hard he thought his balls would explode. His brain was fried but he managed two words. “You okay?”
She bucked, and he slid fully inside her again. He gritted his teeth and tried to hang on, but her flushed face and glazed eyes were doing crazy things to his self-control.
“You’re like a fucking caveman.” She was panting so hard he could barely understand her. “I can’t move.”
He huffed out a laugh and Paris shuddered all around him. Pressure built, and he flexed his hips. Slow at first, but that didn’t last long.
Neither would he.
Especially when Paris started to move. He closed his eyes but it didn’t help, so he opened them and watched her face—the wrong thing to do. Her face was…glowing.
Hell, he was losing it. He gritted his teeth. She arched into him, squeezing his cock like nothing he’d experienced before.
He buried his face in her shoulder and came… like a fucking caveman.
Chapter Eight
Cooper stirred, rolled onto his side and, still half asleep, reached for Paris.
The bed was empty. He cracked open one eye, and the hallway light coming through the gap at the bottom of the door confirmed it. She wasn’t there.
He rolled onto his back and dropped his arm across his eyes. When the hell had she snuck out of his room? They’d fallen asleep together. He’d woken her in the early hours and she’d been all over him. And then everything was blank.
He exhaled a long breath. His dick was rock hard but he refused to grip it for some early morning relief. While it was nothing unusual to wake up with a hard-on, this time it was because he’d been dreaming about Paris.
And he’d expected her to be here. In his bed. So they could fool around again.
Before he could stop himself he wrapped his hand around his cock. He and Paris had done a lot more than fool around. He’d slept with Scott’s little sister.
With a grunt of self-disgust he wrenched his hand away. A few more moments slid by, and then it hit him why he was feeling so pissed.
She’d waited until he was asleep before she’d left. Why had she done that?
It took a few more moments before the answer slithered through his sleep-deprived brain.
She hadn’t wanted to spend the whole night with him.
He didn’t know why that bugged him. He never spent the whole night with a girl. It was kind of disturbing to realize he hadn’t thought any further than getting inside her when he’d carried Paris in here last night.
He frowned and tried to get comfortable. It wasn’t happening. He reached for his cell and squinted at the time.
Almost five.
Not worth trying to get back to sleep. He’d check out that episode Paris had told him about. He went online and searched for “Sunset Heights porn episode”.
The internet connection was slow as hell but finally about ten thousand hits came up. He picked the first half-legit looking one.
“Huh.” Why hadn’t she told him—
The bedroom door slowly opened and she inched into the room, as though she were in a spy movie. She stopped dead when she saw him sitting up in bed.
“I’m sorry.” He had no idea why she was whispering, but who the hell cared. She’d come back. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I needed the, um, bathroom.”
Of course she had. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It was the most obvious reason why she’d left.
She was wearing a pair of boxers and a tight sleeveless top. Forget about the bathroom. Had she left the room just so she could get some pj’s?
It was kind of funny. He wasn’t sure she’d appreciate it if he laughed. Maybe that’s what all girls did in the early hours. How would he know?
“You didn’t, babe. Come back to bed.” He pulled back the sheet, and she hopped back in and snuggled up to him. She smelled gorgeous, like she’d just had a shower, except she wasn’t damp. And was that minty undertone toothpaste?
Hold Me Until Morning Page 7
