She paused. Any other guy would have been messaging her endlessly, wanting to know just what had crawled up her ass or begging for forgiveness. Then she would tell them who her family was and poof, they’d be gone. Having ties to a tough motorcycle gang did it every time.
She was about to text him again when there was a knock on her door. She got up and opened it.
“I thought this would be better than text. Come to dinner with me.”
Cole stood in her doorway. A tingle spread over her skin before suspicion hit. “How did you know where my room was?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked sheepish. “Would you believe a lucky guess?”
She raised a brow and placed a hand on her hip. She should be creeped out, but his dark skin blushed and he shifted on his feet. It was quite humorous to see him so uncomfortable.
“No?” He shook his head and sighed. “When you were looking for something in your bag and piled your stuff on the table, I noticed your room number on some papers.”
She would give him that one ’cause she wasn’t the most organized person. “So you thought you’d just show up at my door?”
“I don’t like text.” The sheepishness was gone, replaced by quiet intensity.
She licked her lips and nodded. “Let me change.”
She left the door open as she turned, grabbed some clothes, and slipped into the bathroom while he stepped into the room and shut the door. She tugged on her snug Alien Ant Farm shirt and jean shorts. She ran a hand through her hair and then stepped into the room. They didn’t match at all. He wore a white button down with rolled up sleeves and khaki shorts. The white only accentuated his dark skin and exotic looks.
And he looked good. Too good. Especially since he stood in front of her bed. It sent all sorts of wicked ideas spinning through her mind. His dark head lifted to stare at her and awareness prickled up her spine.
She hastily shoved her feet into her black Chucks. “Let’s go.”
Without waiting for him, she stepped into the hallway. That room was too small with him and all the tension between them. Except he was right behind her, his body close, his hand on the small of her back as he moved with her into the elevator. He leaned one shoulder on the wall, his head tilted down toward hers.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up.
She looked up and choked. He was so damn close. His eyes piercing hers. Her heart raced and she forced herself not to give in and shove up on her toes to taste those tempting lips. The door opened and he gave her a one sided smirk.
“After you.”
He grabbed her hand and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she curled her hand into his. She wanted him to know that she chose to leave it there. No matter her reservations or insecurities.
She met his surprised gaze head on while he led her to the restaurant.
Chapter Four
Cole liked her straightforward honesty and the way she gripped his hand. He’d expected her to pull away. Instead, she tightened her grip and looked right at him. That told him everything he needed to know. Maybe, just maybe, she’d admitted to herself what he already knew.
A heady attraction that grew stronger by the minute.
They settled at a table near a wall of glass so they could look out over the water. It was almost dark, and light from the ship glinted off the ripples.
“So tell me about these men you grew up with.” Cole took a bite of his salmon while she ate shrimp pasta. “The men who would scare me.”
She tensed and folded her napkin. “I’m not sure you want to know.”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked.”
She snorted. “A lot of people ask things when they don’t really want the answer.”
“Try me.”
Silence hung as conflicting emotions flickered across her face. She released a breath. “All right. But remember, you asked. You already know my dad runs Booseys, the bar I work at. My mom’s brother runs Steel Grim. A motorcycle gang in Nashville. I grew up around them. They come into the bar quite often. Trust me when I say guys don’t stick around long when they learn that tidbit of information.”
He sat back and could tell by the look on her face she expected him to get up and leave. “This is supposed to scare me?”
“It should. They’re not exactly nice and are very protective of their ‘angel.’” The word ‘angel’ was said through clenched teeth and flashing eyes.
“I told you I don’t scare easily.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t know them. They would eat you for lunch.” She threw her napkin. “This is pointless.”
She shoved back her chair and shot to her feet. He grabbed her hand and tugged her back down.
“You are underestimating me again.” His brows lowered over his eyes.
“You don’t get it—”
He stood abruptly, cutting her off, and with her hand still in his, took off out the door to the deck, dragging her with him. His emotions rode high and he never lost his cool.
He was tired of her assumptions.
Tired of her judgments.
Tired of fighting his attraction to her.
He strode purposely to an empty area.
“Cole, really, this is—”
“This is what you don’t get.” Cole spun her, pressed her back against the ship and claimed her mouth.
His hands gripped each side of her head as he caught her gasp. Her small hands tightened in his shirt as he swept his tongue along the seam of her lips. How he wanted to dive in deep, but instead, molded his body to hers. Her lithe curves fit nicely into the hard planes of his form. He dropped his head and placed a lingering kiss just behind her ear. Blood raced hotly through his veins when she arched closer.
She stirred him up in ways he didn’t understand. She’d labeled him. As what, he didn’t know, but he wanted to redefine her classification of him. He wasn’t a boy. He knew who he was and what he wanted. At the moment, it was the irresistible and infuriating woman in his arms.
His thumbs traced the delicate bones of her face as her breath came out in small puffs. He fell into her dark gaze.
“I’m not like others. Do not compare me to them,” he whispered.
*
Angel was stunned. He’d been so polite and passive… she never saw this coming. Her body reacted instantly. His scent, the faint taste of Corona on those lips that lured her. But he kept them from her, denying her the pleasure. A mere taste wasn’t enough.
She wanted more. Wanted him.
Had from the moment he’d spoken with that enticing accent. That hard body against hers only confirmed it, and she was done ignoring what he’d been trying to tell her. What she already knew.
Who the hell cared who her family was? She was on a cruise, a thousand miles away from her real world. This would only be a fling anyway, right? She jerked her mind out of the rut where she’d been spinning her wheels and focused on the here and now. She wanted him, and there was no one to tell her she couldn’t have him.
She rose up on her toes and slid an arm around his neck.
“Just kiss me.”
His mouth hovered over hers. So close, yet so far away. She tried to reach for him, but he held back. The anticipation only ramped up her want. She pulled him so his lips landed on hers.
That shot right through her. She clung to him. No longer holding back, the force of his kiss overtook her and left no doubt who was in charge. His tongue sparred with hers, his teeth tugged at her lower lip, he angled her head so all she could do was open for him. Her legs shook and her body burned from the inside out. She hooked a leg around his hip, wanting him closer. Strong hands dug hard into her ass. He ground into the v of her legs and her head fell back, her lungs searching for air. His hard bulge teasing her.
He stopped, his breath hot and heavy on her neck. “You want this?”
She was barely able to breathe, much less talk, so she lowered her hands and shoved them under the hem of his shirt. The smooth, taunt skin of his a
bs contracted under her fingertips.
“Querida? My room?” Every time he said something in Portuguese or Spanish it made her body tingle and something warm settled low. She rarely knew what he said but it didn’t matter. His voice was like smooth bourbon. He could cuss her, and it would still turn her on.
She nodded, worked her hands partway up his back. She tipped her head so she could see his face in the dim light. His eyes were closed and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“You test my patience.” He kissed her hard, and everything faded before he abruptly pulled back. She stumbled when he grabbed her hand to lead her to a set of elevators.
People were inside, but Cole didn’t seem to care. He pulled her so her back was to his chest. With his arm tight around her waist, he dropped his head so his mouth was against her ear.
“I want to hear you scream my name, Anjinho Anjo,” he whispered.
Her knees threatened to buckle. He’d called her Little Angel again. She hated her name, but not when he said it.
She barely recognized the fact that most people had gotten off, yet they were still going up. The doors opened on the Seventeenth Deck and he led her out.
“Uh, Cole.”
“Yes?” he asked as he led her through a fancy foyer to room number 1758. He swiped his card and the door popped open.
“Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath as he pulled her inside and shut the door. “You’re rich.”
“Does it matter?” He crowded her against the door.
He blocked her view of the spacious room and his hands skated along her arms, then pinned them above her head. She tugged, but they were firmly anchored.
She gulped in air. “You never said anything.”
“I ask you again, does it matter?”
How had she ever thought this man passive? He unbuttoned her shorts and with space between them, she should have been able to think. She had agreed to come here but with a calloused thumb tracing the line of her panties, she couldn’t even remember what he asked.
“Yes, I have money, but I don’t go around announcing it. This is your last chance if you want to go.” His thumb dipped just under the hem and stopped.
Her body thrummed with the need he’d ignited. Her hips arched automatically, wanting more. She licked her lips. “I don’t care, just move, dammit.”
He kicked her feet a little wider and shoved a long finger inside her. Her head banged on the door as every nerve ending sparked to life. “Yes,” she hissed.
She bucked against his hand, not caring that the only part of him touching her was his hand on her wrists and his other hand fucking her senseless with not one but two fingers.
“I have to taste you,” he ground out.
He shoved at her shorts and panties, leaving them at a pile at her feet. He knelt, yanked off her shoes, hooked one leg over his shoulder, and replaced his deft fingers with his mouth.
She gripped his hair and screamed his name. All thought wiped out. His hands gripped her ass as she struggled not to fall. Hot pleasure surged through her as wave after wave hit.
“Need,” she panted and pulled at his shirt.
He took his time getting to his feet. His mouth, lips, and teeth tasting and teasing his way up as he shoved her shirt over her head, taking her bra with it, and dropped it. His mouth claimed a hard nipple, and she curled her naked body around his fully dressed one. He picked her up, and she locked her legs around his waist. His teeth pulled and teased her breast sending tiny little shocks of pain and pleasure through her body.
“You have way too many clothes on,” she muttered as she shoved a hand down the back of his shirt. He walked further into the room, dropped her to the couch, yanked off his shirt, and kicked off the rest of his clothes.
Cole naked was breathtaking. She’d seen him without a shirt, but all of him was that same dusky colored skin. She circled a hand around his cock and he groaned.
“Not this time.” He dropped to his knees again and she surged forward with impatience. His muscles jumped under her touch as she explored his chest and shoulders, and her mouth found his again. Her taste in his mouth only spurred her on. She wanted him in her. Now.
He fumbled with his shorts until she heard the crackle of foil. She raked her nails up his neck. He pulled her hips to the edge of the couch and slammed in.
Breath left her. He filled her, stretched her, and when he moved, stars appeared behind her eyes. “Oh hell,” she whimpered.
She clenched the back of the couch as he pounded hard, fast. The gentleman was gone. His hands cupped her ass so her legs draped carelessly over both arms. His gaze skimmed her body, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Her head fell back, her body nothing but sensation. He slowed and she panted. His big, rough, hands slid up her back making her arch like a cat.
“Gostosa,” he murmured against her mouth.
A shudder rippled through her as he pulled out. He whipped her around so her knees hit the floor, her elbows buried into the cushions. He slid in again and her body jerked and spasmed around him.
His hands skated along her curves, cupped a breast, then tweaked a nipple. She cried out. A total out of body experience. But he didn’t move. He held her tight, firmly buried in her. He spread his knees, which spread hers.
“Beautiful.” He kissed along her neck and his thumb pressed against her clit.
“Move. Please move,” she begged.
“Tell me what you want, Anjo. Do you wish me to rub this?” His thumb moved a fraction.
“Yes,” she panted.
“How about this?” He cupped a breast and tweaked a nipple.
She nodded, breath wasn’t necessary, but his hands on her were. “Anything. Please.”
All it took was a few quick moves. “Cole,” she cried out as her nails dug into the couch.
Then he drove in hard, completing her. Filling her as he pulsed deep within.
Angel woke, confused and dazed, with a warm body pressed against her back. Every muscle ached. She turned slowly and looked up into Cole’s sleeping face. They’d had sex. She’d lost count of how many times.
She sucked in her lower lip and scooted out from under his arm. Panic descended. She had to get out of here. She stopped when she spotted a fireplace in his bedroom.
They were on a cruise ship and the guy had a fucking fireplace in a separate bedroom. She looked around for her clothes. Nothing. He’d stripped her at his door. She snuck a glance at his sleeping form. The blankets were a tangled mess low on his waist. His dark brown hair was mussed and sexy as sin. And those lips… what he could do with those lips. She bit back a groan and pulled her gaze away. If she stared at him much longer, she would crawl back in with him.
She crept out of his room and blinked. He’d had her too occupied to notice anything last night. There was a kitchenette, an office area, a couch and love seat, and a piano… a baby grand piano.
Holy hell. This guy was loaded.
She shook her head, hurried to her clothes, yanked them on, and stepped out of the room. Thankfully, the elevator was right there. She hurried inside and pushed button six. Huddled into a corner, she didn’t meet anyone’s gaze as they came and went. Finally in her room, she hopped into her shower, turned it on as hot as it would go and stayed until the water turned cold.
She still felt his hands.
His mouth.
His body.
Everywhere.
She didn’t wanted to erase it, but her entire being had shifted on its axis. She wasn’t a prude. She’d been with guys of all types. From the geeky to the tough motorcycle dude loaded with tattoos. None long term, of course. Hard to do that when you had a family like hers.
But none of them made her feel what Cole did.
That had turned into a raging inferno.
Lust, plain and simple.
No matter what Cole had tried to tell her before, as far as she could see, he did exactly what lust did. He saw, he wanted, and he took.
And oh hell, did he tak
e.
Last night he owned every tiny molecule of her. Cole hid a very dominant side. No denying she’d relished every moment of it.
She’d just dried her hair when there was a knock on her door. She closed her eyes. She could pretend she wasn’t there and didn’t know who was really at the door, but she’d be lying to herself if she thought she didn’t want to see him again.
So she took a deep breath and opened the door. Cole’s eyes pierced her. Stripped her with one look. She swallowed and backed up. He walked in and shut the door.
“Why did you leave without a word?”
His hair was damp and she fisted her hands to keep them out of those silky strands. “I wanted to shower.”
He cocked a brow. “Which would explain leaving without a word.”
She braved a tremulous smile while she quivered on the inside. “We were done. I didn’t think it mattered—”
“It mattered to me.” He advanced on her and gently held one of her hands. His thumb—that thumb—brushed along the pulse inside her wrist. “I wanted to have breakfast with you. Talk to you.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I haven’t eaten. And you are talking to me. So, I say it’s a win.”
He frowned, released her, and shoved a hand through his wet hair. He took a step back and, heaven save her, but that was the last thing she wanted. Her body hummed and vibrated with all the wicked things he’d done to her last night.
She craved it.
Craved him.
Again.
She clenched her hands behind her back.
“I wanted to wake up with you.”
His voice was low and it buzzed right through her. She never spent the night with anyone she slept with. He’d been the first. “Why?” Was she asking him or herself?
He leaned casually against the tiny desk in the room and a smile flickered briefly before it was gone. “Come here.”
Those words alone made her legs shake. She shouldn’t; she tried to fight it, but in the end, she stepped toward him. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her between his legs. “Because of this.”
He lips barely touched hers. His fingertips skimmed her cheek.
Krush Page 3
