by Nikki Chase
I reach up to put my hands on his shoulders. I feel the ropes of his muscles rippling as he moves. I pull him close and he obliges. He leans down to kiss me, devouring me with his mouth. I feel wanton, but every cell in my body yearns for him, this man who has unwittingly turned my life into both hell and heaven.
“Please, Cole. I need you.”
He pulls back from the kiss and watches my face intensely. He rocks his hips to push his cock inside me, inch by torturous inch. I bite my lips and lift my hips up again, inviting him in. In response, he pulls back out again, making me crave the fullness from his cock even more.
“Stay,” he says. “I’ll give it to you if you’re good and if you stay still. Okay?”
I nod in reply. If I had my way he’d already be inside me, but I’ll do as he says if it means I’ll get what I need.
“Good. Good girl,” he says with a crooked smirk on his face.
He slowly starts to push back in again, and I fight the urge to swallow him whole this time, even though my body aches for more of him. I close my eyes and bite my bottom lip until it starts to hurt, trying to distract myself from my craving for him.
“Open your eyes.” Cole grabs my hair until it almost hurts. “Look at me.”
I do as he says and find him staring at me like he’s demanding my surrender. So I let him dominate my body and my mind. I let him have his way with me. He slides deeper and deeper into me, filling me up, making me stretch to accommodate his length. I drag my fingernails down his back when he hits bottom and grinds into me.
“Oh, Cole. You feel so good.”
“I can make it feel even better,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot and heavy on my skin.
Cole thrusts up into me, hitting my sweet spot. I gasp, which only makes his cocky smirk grow even wider. He knows exactly what to do to my body. I wrap my legs around him and pull him down. I want him deeper and harder and faster inside me.
This time, he gives into my plea and starts to pick up his pace. I feel my arousal build up and my muscles clench around him.
“Are you going to come, baby?” He watches my face as I furrow my eyebrows and nod.
He starts to fuck me like his life depends on it. Through the fog of my arousal, I hear the creak of the couch dragging across the marble floor.
“Come for me, baby,” he growls.
He pulls my hair and bites down on my exposed neck. That little bit of pain sends my right over the edge and I tumble down the cliff of my climax, holding on to his big, solid arms as I lose control of my own body, shaking and shuddering and moaning his name over and over again.
He slams into me and grinds against me. I feel his cock pulse and twitch inside me, and I realize he’s shooting ropes of his hot seed deep inside me.
As we both lay on the couch with messy hair and sweaty bodies entangled into one, I close my eyes and run my hands over his hot skin, trying to memorize the lines and contours of his body.
“I love you, Emily.”
I open my eyes to look up at him.
“I love you too,” I say before I have the chance to overthink it. It’s the first time I say these words to anyone else after the accident.
Cole looks down into my eyes with the biggest smile on his face. “Please marry me, Emily. I can’t be without you again.”
“You’re being crazy.” I smile.
“I know. But who cares? We’ve gone through so many crazy things together already, so what’s another one?” There’s sincerity in his eyes, and I realize he means it.
“You raise a good point. But here’s another good point to consider: maybe we should discuss this later. Like, when you’re not literally still inside me.”
He laughs, his eyes twinkling in the darkness. “God, I love you. I want to grow old with you, Emily. Please. Say you’ll marry me.”
I don’t know what’s coming over me, but before I can overanalyze it, I hear myself say, “I will. I’ll marry you.”
The truth is, now that I’m in his arms again, I can’t imagine us ever being apart again.
Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
“Oh my God.” Alice clasps her hands over her mouth and her eyes begin to well up.
“Don’t cry. You’re going to ruin your make-up.” I smile as I look at her reflection in the mirror in front of me. My own make-up artist is brushing my face with some kind of powder. She’s put so much product on my face I’ve stopped keeping track.
“You look beautiful.” She approaches the table where I’m sitting, grabs a tissue and carefully dabs her eyes. “You don’t have cold feet, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. I was going to tell you if you do we can just spend the rest of our time here visiting temples and beaches together.”
“We can still do that.” I laugh. “But I’m sorry I can’t check out the men with you like I said we would.”
“Are you crazy? I’m happy enough I get to fly to freaking Bali in business class and stay at a five-star resort for free.” She takes a seat on the bed and continues staring at me in my white A-line dress, her eyes shining with happiness for me.
I smile. Cole and I have flown the closest people in our lives to the tropical island for the wedding. I ask, “Is everyone getting along okay?”
“Cole’s Dad is being kind of an asshole, but your wedding planner is handling him pretty well.”
“Well, I expected that and I already warned her.”
“He’s not happy about the wedding at all, is he?”
“Nope,” I say. “Cole didn’t want to invite him at all, but I told him I’m no longer in contact with either of my parents so we should keep all the family we do have.”
“You’re a better person than I am,” Alice says.
“Only sometimes.”
“All done! You look beautiful,” says the make-up artist, a Balinese woman who speaks impeccable, if heavily accented, English.
“Thank you,” I say.
I get up and walk across the hotel room toward the full-length mirror that’s propped against the wall. I nod my approval and the make-up artist leaves the room through the traditional, intricately carved double doors. It’s just Alice and me now in this swanky hotel room.
“You know, when Cole called me to ask for my opinion about the ring, I thought he was moving way too fast. You just started seeing each other again, for God’s sake. I told him what I thought, but he insisted. I told him, ‘Okay, just don’t blame me when she says no.’ And then he told me you already said yes. I feel like you undermined my credibility a little bit,” she says without taking her eyes off my reflection.
“Hey, I called you that same day and you pretended like you just found out. You liar.”
“Yeah, well, he only called an hour or two before you did. It’s your own fault for always waking up so late,” Alice says. “I’m surprised you guys managed to sort everything out so quickly. That was quite a bit of mess you were in.”
“Yeah. But in the end, the only thing I was worried about was his tendency to want to be in control and solve every problem himself. That’s how he got us into the mess in the first place. I made him promise that he wouldn’t meddle in my career and that we’d solve all our problems together. I also insisted that he let me get my own apartment, although I ended up spending most nights at his place anyway.” I giggle.
“Oh, Em.” Alice sighs. “If I were in your position, I don’t know if I’d even want to continue working. Seriously. How do you even get the motivation to work when Cole is perfectly willing to give you the life of a Kardashian?”
“Well, it’s different for you, Alice. You’ve worked really hard your whole life,” I say. I have to laugh at the Kardashian comment. “I’d only just started my career and I wanted to know if I could make it on my own without his involvement. I may find myself having to stand on my own two feet again someday.”
Alice grows quiet. We both know what I’m talking about. I’ve lost one love and, eager as
I am to jump into a new life with Cole, I’m aware that I can lose him at any time.
“Are you ready?” My Australian wedding planner pops her head into the room. Having lived on the island for decades, she has a year-round natural tan and speaks the local language fluently. “You look like you’re ready. Beautiful, blushing bride. No cold feet, I hope?”
“Nope. I’m ready.”
“Great. All the guests are seated. There’s a buggy just outside waiting for you,” Denise says.
As I make my way outside, Alice helps me with my dress. I’ve deliberately chosen a simple, no-fuss dress to match the beachy setting. Keeping a floor-length white dress from getting dirty is no simple task.
Hot, humid air hits me as soon as I step outside. The afternoon wind makes it bearable, although I still wish I could jump into the private swimming pool to cool down.
Alice and I sit on the back of the little buggy that takes us to the wedding venue, a beautiful green clearing at the bottom of a set of stone steps that overlooks the ocean.
It’s late in the afternoon and the sky is just beginning to turn pink and orange. A warm breeze flirts with my loosely curled hair. The sound of waves crashing into the rocks helps calm my nerves.
I’m not used to this, any of this. Getting all dolled up in a designer dress, taking a vacation to a tropical island, or being the center of attention. I’m completely out of my element. At the same time, everything feels magical.
As Alice and I approach the top of the stone steps, men wearing checkered sarongs and Balinese cloth hats start playing a tune on their traditional musical instruments. The guests stand up and turn around to look at us.
Alice and I giggle as we walk down the stone steps hand in hand, trying not to fall while we balance ourselves on our high heels. I feel like it’s only appropriate for her to walk me down the aisle, seeing as she’s the only parent I’ve ever had.
On both sides of the aisle, I see the smiling faces of Marco, Sally, Caine, and even Cole’s father. I guess he has finally resigned himself to the fact that we’re definitely getting married after all.
Several of our colleagues and friends from Seattle whom we’ve grown close to over the past few months are also in attendance. We’ve even invited Linda, the old woman we met on the plane when we first landed in Seattle, the first person to ever predict our nuptials. But it’s still a small ceremony with only twenty people in attendance.
At the end of the aisle, Cole stands by the wedding officiant with a big grin on his face.
He looks dapper in his navy three-piece Armani suit. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt underneath and a light gray necktie. A single white rose is pinned onto his left lapel.
As I cast my eyes on Cole, our gaze lock. I almost can’t believe I’m about to marry this magnificent man. Looking into his piercing brown eyes, I know he has no doubt in his mind either that he wants to do this. Despite our stormy beginnings, there are no cold feet for either one of us on this warm, sunny day.
Alice lets go of me with a smile when we reach the altar and takes her seat on one of the gold Tiffany chairs in the front row.
Cole takes my hands in his. I look up into his eyes and smile as I think about how I’ll be holding these same hands for the rest of my life. And if we’re lucky, I’ll get to watch them age until they become wrinkled, old-man hands.
I’m ready for the rest of our lives to begin.
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed Emily and Cole’s story.
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Preview: Knocked Up
Kat
“His office looks more like an upscale jazz lounge than a place of work, all dark wood and smooth leather. And it doesn’t only look good.
“Whenever I take a seat on the designer chair across the desk from him, it feels like my ass is being cradled by fluffy clouds.”
My boss stops reading and turns his steely blue eyes on me.
“I’m glad you enjoy my furniture, Kat,” he says.
“It’s fictional,” I say quickly, but my defense sounds as thin as Keira Knightley, even to my own ears.
Heath raises an eyebrow. “Your protagonist works in a private investment company. Her boss has made a fortune from going short on stocks of unethical companies, even though he's only twenty-eight.
“His last big move was basically a $100 million bet against this company that was running a pyramid scheme. Oh, and he’s also—” Heath glances at the screen of his computer “—a sanctimonious, arrogant bully.”
I squirm in my seat as Heath stares at me.
“Did I miss anything?” he asks. There’s no anger in his eyes. If anything, he seems amused by the whole thing. But I feel like crawling into a hole and dying.
“Umm… Not really,” I lie.
I wonder if he’s also noticed the part where my main character describes her boss as “a man with the body of a Greek god and the face of a Hollywood heart-throb.” Because—surprise, surprise—that’s based on him, too.
“It may be fiction, but I’d say it’s at least based on a true story. Wouldn’t you agree?” he asks.
I swallow. How is my throat so dry?
“Very loosely based on reality. Just the background stuff, really.” I force my lips into a smile.
“Hmm…” As Heath nods distractedly and leans forward to read the writing on the screen, the messy pile of dark hair on his head tumbles forward. His finger scrolls the wheel of the mouse.
Normally, I’d be fantasizing about that digit scrolling my wheel, if you know what I mean. I mean the one in my panties—is that too vague? I’ve been wondering if I should use that in the final version of my novel. Either way, that’s the kind of dirty thought that’s gotten me into trouble in the first place.
God, I wish a great, empty void would appear right under this stupid chair and suck me away somewhere else. Anywhere else.
This morning, I got to the office early so I could edit a few chapters of my romance manuscript before work. But the computer on my desk was dead, and nobody in the IT department picked up any of my fourteen calls because it was too early in the morning.
I actually bumped into Jeff from legal in the elevator, though, so I knew he was around. He’d once mentioned liking to tinker with computers in his spare time so he probably could've helped.
But he's also a creep who stares at my chest and says things like “milk jugs” and “birthing hips.” I wouldn't be too surprised if one day he says something like, “Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?” And that would be the start of my life as a sex slave, kept in the dungeon of Jeff's basement.
So, for the sake of my freedom and liberty, I decided to use my boss’ computer.
It seemed like a good idea, until I realized I’d forgotten to take out my USB stick before slipping out of his office.
Even worse, my moment of realization came only seconds ago when Heath started reading out a passage from my manuscript.
And he hasn’t even gotten to the sexy part…
“Heath, I’m so sorry I used your computer. I promise I won’t do it again,” I say, breaking the silence before he finishes reading the whole thing. “We should get back to work. Mr. Mikhailov’s assistant has already texted me to let me know his flight from Moscow had landed on time, so he should be here in less than an hour.”
“He flies on his own private jet. Of course he’s on time,” Heath says, easily dodging my obvious attempt at changing the subject. He reads on. “I realize Mr. Jones is standing right behind my chair. As he bends down, he rests his hands on my shoulders. I can’t help but imagine those big, masculine hands running all over other parts of my body. His stubble tickles my neck and I almost giggle, but then he whispers, ‘You’re in trouble now, Sarah.’”
Heath huffs a small laugh. His eyes twinkle with amusement as a thin smile forms on his lips. “Is that where it ends?”
“It’s uh, not done yet,” I say. “Really, it’s not ready for anyone to read yet, so—”
God, how is he so damn gorgeous? Those steely blue eyes make it hard for me to even think when he's around.
“Oh, these pink marks with comments from Jane—these aren’t notes from someone who’s read this?”
“That’s just Jane… my roommate. She, uh, beta-reads for… Uh, that means she reads my manuscript and gives me her feedback before I publish it,” I stammer.
Why am I telling him all these things? Shut up already, Kat! He already knows too much.
“Hmm…” Heath’s eyes refocus on the screen, his forehead wrinkling, even as his lips remain curled up. “You want my feedback?” Before I could respond, he says, “I like it, up until the sex part. I feel like there are…more creative ways to have sex in the office that you haven’t considered.”
Blood rushes to my face, heating up my cheeks and ears. Maybe I shouldn’t have pulled my hair back into a ponytail today. Now there’s no place to hide from Heath’s penetrating gaze.
“Uh… thanks,” I say softly.
I want to shrink into the size of an atom and vanish. Maybe that way Heath will remember this day as the day his assistant simply poofed into thin air, rather than the day his assistant left some smut she’d written about him on his computer.
God, what if, years and years from now, Heath will still remember me as the assistant who left some smut she’d written about him on his computer? What if he whips out this story to tell his ultra-wealthy clients at parties and they all laugh at me as they clink their champagne flutes together?
“If I were the boss in this story…” Heath glances at my flushed face and smirks wickedly. “I’m not saying I am… I’m just making some suggestions. But if I were him, I’d make my assistant give me a blow job under my desk. Or maybe I’d strip her naked and fuck her against the glass wall so anyone looking in the right direction can see her O-face.”
