Love in the City (The Complete Collection Boxed Set)

by Liv Morris

  Chapter 5

  The ride in his car is quiet. I can’t even hear the hum of the engine. There’s complete silence until he turns on his radio and the bass reverbs all around me. In my semi-drunken state, it’s a bit overpowering. Like the band is playing live from the space behind us with the drummer hammering away on the back of my seat.

  As we listen to Pit Bull tell us to not stop the party, good advice by the way, I watch Coop pull the car up to a gated community, one of those exclusive places where rich and powerful people hide, I mean live. I’ve never been behind a private gate until now.

  “Is this where you live, Coop?” Still can’t figure this guy out.

  “A lot of my friends live here and I like the privacy.” What kind of friends does he have? Gazillionaires? He makes it seem like living here is no big deal. It isn’t if you can afford a million dollar plus home. The houses are enormous, beautiful with immaculate lawns, the kind that are tended by professional gardeners. Professional everything, really.

  “It may be private, but I’m thinking a better word is impressive.”

  “Thanks. It’s home to me.” Coop turns the car into a driveway where a palatial looking home sits back from the street. There has to be three acres surrounding this house.

  “Is this yours?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice as the car approaches the now open garage.

  “This is it. My home.”

  “Your compound is more like it.”

  He laughs, but seriously this place is unreal. I can’t even fathom what it must have cost him. I want to ask him what he does, or did before he was injured, but I can’t seem to get up the nerve. Maybe I’m afraid he’ll say he robs banks or is a drug runner.

  After entering the garage, he shuts off the car and turns to me. “Well, we’re here.”

  “Yes we are,” I respond nervously looking anywhere but at him.

  This is it. What I want and also what I’m worried about. I was all bravado and sass on my phone call with Priscilla. Those feelings are fading now that I’m facing reality. I hope to God I made the right choice.

  “Sit here. I’ll come around and get your door.” Still as charming as ever.

  Coop opens the door and escorts me out of the garage. He guides me with his hand placed against my back. The garage is detached from the house but a tall portico connects it to the house. It’s more for show than a protection from the elements and definitely grander than a porch. At least the porches in Augusta.

  As we approach the main door, he pulls the key ring out of his pocket, inserts a key into a large brass lock, and opens the door. With a sweep of his hand, he invites me in.

  I take a step over the threshold. No turning back now. I’m here and officially have crossed over the line into his lair. Looking around the open foyer, my eyes see the living room ahead of me. There’s a massive stone fireplace directly in front of me against a far wall. It’s more of a statement. I mean who really needs fireplaces in Atlanta?

  There’s something unusual hanging above it though. The item appears to be in a shadow box. My legs move me toward it and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. An Atlanta Falcons jersey is encased in the large wooden frame with a glass covering. But what I make out on the black and red shirt stops me dead in my tracks. Across the back shoulder is the name, Cooper.

  “Wait a second. Cooper?” And it all starts making sense to me. His car, this house I’m standing in, and his “job-related injury.” He’s a football player or was one.

  Holy shit. If I were a fan of football, I most likely would’ve figured this out. But here’s a little tidbit for you. I hate football. Despise it actually. Love the sports player, hate the sport?

  While trying to process what I’m seeing, I don’t hear Coop walk up beside me so I’m startled when I feel his touch on my arm.

  “Sorry, Millie. Didn’t mean to make you jump.” I look up into his eyes and can tell he needs to know what I think about his being Mr. Football.

  “Yes, I confess. I’m the Cooper on that jersey. Played here in Atlanta for nine years. Since I was a rookie.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I can’t believe this. Neither one of us got specific about our jobs when we were talking earlier, but this is a big oversight. Like a multi-million dollar one.

  “I don’t know. I thought about saying something. But honestly, when you had no idea who I was. Well, that was a change for me.” His eyes have a serious look about them like he’s trying to drive home a point. “I wanted you to like me for me. Coop. Not some big NFL player.”

  “I guess it’s hard when you meet people, wondering if they’re interested in you as a person or you the athlete. I get it. But truthfully, I’m not a big football fan. So I wouldn’t have been impressed if you’d told me.”

  “So you’re not impressed?” he questions me with a smirk on his face. “Not even a little bit?”

  “Jeez, I thought you wanted me to like you for you.” He’s confusing me now. “Make up your mind already.”

  “Oh believe me, Millie. I’ve made up my mind.” He gazes at me. Something in his eyes unnerves me. Makes my stomach flutter, my breath hitch. “And it’s set on you. ”

  He closes the gap between us and stands so close that we’re almost touching. Looking up at him, I can see want in his eyes. And I’m fairly certain I’m returning the same look back at him.

  Here’s where things take a really sordid turn. I bet you’re saying, “Finally. It took her long enough to get the good stuff.” Sorry about the delay, but I needed a little more build-up. I hate looking like a wanton hussy too soon. Hopefully, my decision to get hot and heavy with Coop is more palatable now. At least I know he’s not a serial killer.

  Coop wraps his strong arms around me. All of me presses against all of him. He’s a wall of steel. I feel his strength all around me. It has possessiveness to it. Like I’m his and not moving from his arms. Which is fine by me. His upper body lowers, bringing his head next to mine. I feel his lips on my neck kissing me in a small nibble-like fashion. But the effect his lips have on me isn’t small. It’s more like a gust of wind catching me off guard, making me unstable.

  I let my body collapse into his arms, calming as his lovely assault continues on my partially exposed shoulder. The scruff on his jaw prickles my tender flesh driving me wild. But somehow I find my voice amid all the pheromones circulating between us.

  “Coop, whatever’s going on here, it’s not my usual thing.” As I speak, his lips inch their way up behind my ear. The sensation makes it hard to concentrate. “Hook-ups aren’t me.”

  But who am I kidding? He’s a pro-football player. Women likely drop to their knees on command for him. Trouble is I’ve never been one of those women before.

  “I know.” His breathy words hit my ear. He’s almost panting. And that turns me on even more. “Just relax, baby. Gonna make you feel so good.”

  And on command, I throw in the towel. Admit defeat. Give into the fire I’m feeling inside. But this is one battle where the surrendering party wins too. At least that’s my hope.

  His mouth finally makes it to mine. Our lips unite and his hands push me farther into him. Like he’s hungry for me. Needy. My softness hits his hardness. Yes, that hardness! Impressive too. Everything about him is larger than life so I shouldn’t be surprised.

  I push my hips forward against him in a grinding motion. And he responds by kissing me harder. One hand clasps behind my head while the other makes its way under the back of my shirt. I feel his fingers lightly stroking my skin. His touch. Skin to skin. It’s almost too much.

  “God, you’re so soft,” Coop mumbles his words against my lips not wanting to break our connection. “I want you in my bed. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  And that one tiny word, sets Coop off on a series of motions. He bends and places one arm behind my knee. The next thing I know I’m airborne and being cradled in his arms baby style, pulled to his chest.

  “Oh…” I let out
a small cry when he’s lifting me from the ground, a reaction to his actions as they’ve caught me totally off guard.

  He answers me by returning his lips back to my neck while drawing me up even higher in his arms. I fling my head back to give him better access, completely submitting to him.

  I can’t believe what’s happening to me. It’s a scene from a movie. A page out of a romance book. That’s what this feels like, being totally swept off my feet and carried away. He’s my Rhett and I feel like Scarlett. We are in Atlanta after all. Now he’s moving and heading to his room, I think.

  Let’s be honest, ladies. We’ve all dreamt about this kind of a swoony experience. A hot man finds you so desirable he can’t wait another second to have you. He’s not even willing to wait for you to walk to his bedroom. He wants you there now, so he takes matters into his own hands, literally.

  His bedroom. After walking down a long, arched hallway, that’s where we are now. Even though it’s a bright afternoon, the sun hides behind dark stained plantation shutters that are closed snugly against the windows. Rays of light peak through tiny cracks in the slats, flickering across us as he transports me toward his bed.

  The setting is perfect, dreamlike. It’s intimate, enticing, and so dangerous for someone like me. But I close my eyes and just feel, lost in the sensations as he lowers me to his waiting bed below.

  The comforter he lays me on is soft, plush. I sink into it and he climbs on to the bed next to me. Gently, he rests part of his body on top of me and his perfect lips find mine again, continuing to build the passion between us. His weight shifts a little and I feel his erection pressing against my hip. I move against him and he groans.

  Me, Millie, just made Mr. Football moan out loud. I can’t believe the effect I’m having on him. God knows he’s had me under his spell since he walked into Joe’s bar.

  His hands make their way under my shirt, unclasping my bra with practiced skill. But I remove that thought from my mind as his fingers find my breasts then nipples. I arch my back into his touch, wanting and needing more. He raises my shirt, exposing me to him for the first time. While he gazes at my breasts, I remove my top and bra. His eyes look into mine and I swear he’s thanking me just by his look. And then he descends. He finds a nipple with his mouth. His fingers discover the other one.

  It’s pleasure and ecstasy as he twists, sucks and pulls at me. His attention to my sensitive nipples makes me squirm and shift under him. During my movement my legs part and he positions himself between them, spreading me wider. I do nothing to stop him.

  “I’ve wanted to touch you since I first saw you.”

  His words are shocking. Me?

  “Yes, you. So fucking sexy.” Oh damn. I must’ve said that question out loud.

  I want to tell him I feel the same about him, but the words don’t come. Instead, I try to show him my feelings by pulling his shirt up and running my hands down his back, grazing my nails across him until he shivers at my touch.

  Muscles, tensing and relaxing are what my fingers meet as they wander aimlessly, learning his body. He’s solid. Not an ounce of fat. He radiates strength.

  He starts to descend lower on my stomach. Kissing and licking a trail to the top of my shorts. I look down at him. Our eyes meet and his are trained on mine. Hot with desire, I’m panting with anticipation. He’s totally in charge right now. He’s calling all the shots, but I’m not sure where he’s headed.

  Quickly Coop rises to his knees and places his hands around my left leg. He raises it up almost to his shoulder. I watch him reach for the tied strings of leather on my sandals. He tugs on a strap releasing it from its knot. The ends are free now and he torturously unwinds them around my ankle. Deliberately slow. It’s like he’s making a meal out of this act. Three courses including an after dinner drink!

  When the last of the straps is freed, he pulls my sandal away from my foot and tosses it to the side. Before it lands on the floor, he’s already working on the other one. It too succumbs to his slow and methodical removal. I’m practically ready to scream, “Just take the damn thing off and screw me already.” His slowness is killing me.

  From the smirky grin on his face, I’m rather certain he knows what he’s doing to me. It’s on purpose like he wants me begging for mercy. And I decide that I’m not too proud to beg.

  “Oh god, Coop. Please…” I hardly recognize my voice. I’ve never felt this kind of passion before. Maybe it’s the naughtiness. Who knows?

  “Please, what, baby?” God he’s gonna make me say it.

  “I want you. In… Me… Now…” Maybe it’s still my tipsy head, but I’ve jumped off the cliff.

  After my declaration, Coop growls like a tiger. It’s more of a roar and he rolls over me stopping somewhere between my thighs. I want him in a desperate way. Like he’s my next breath. So I yield to his hands as they paw at my shorts and my panties. I think only my shorts survive his claws as my panties disintegrate into several pieces. Nothing appears to be safe and I hope that includes me.

  Swiftly his fingers find me, part me, and caress.

  “Oh, God. You’re so wet,” Coop practically moans.

  Normally, I would die at words like this. I mean I don’t know him at all. We’re strangers, but just the opposite happens as I push myself against his fingers. Wanton. Eager for more. And he doesn’t disappoint. His head lowers and you know what’s next. Yes, his tongue. And now it’s my turn to cry out.

  “God! Yes!” I’m literally screaming now. My first not self-induced orgasm in a year feels so close. He licks and pushes his tongue against me. I run my fingers through his hair and push him down even harder, needing a little more as I feel myself starting to explode.

  I shatter, fall apart. My body splinters like a million pieces of me are scattered around the room. Crying out, I hold his head tightly in place. Damn if I’ll let him move.

  Slowly, I release him from the death grip of my hands. He sits up again and I’m greeted with a salacious smile. He’s rather proud of himself it appears and so am I. As a teacher, I think he deserves an A+ for all his efforts. And a towel for his face, if you know what I mean. Nothing says a job well done like a dripping chin!

  “Enjoy that, baby?” he says while standing up from the bed. I nod, as I’m not sure if my voice is functioning yet, my entire body still humming from my orgasm.

  Watching mesmerized, I see him remove his shirt and cargo shorts. He’s beautiful. Chiseled. I feel like I’m back in art class studying works carved in marble. I can’t wait to feel him, touch him.

  I hold my breath as his hands come back up to his boxer briefs. His erection is hardly contained and with one swift move, it’s freed. My breath hitches at the sight. There sure is a lot of him to fit in little old me, but I’m all for trying. God, Coop may ruin me for other men.

  “Ready or not, here I come?” He smiles all sexy, teasing.

  I nod again, silent as he crawls up between my legs and lies some of his weight against me. I instinctively bend my knees and place my feet flat on the bed. They dip into the softness, gripping for a foothold.

  I feel him run his length against my sex. Up and down. Pressing. I’m still sensitive from my orgasm. All my feelings are heightened. I’ve heard of multiple orgasms but have never gotten even close before. But those times were Pre-Coop. I think my sex life will now have a dividing line called BC/AC: before Coop, after Coop.

  Slowly he moves up my body and reaches for his nightstand. I thought he wanted me to return the oral favor at first, but when I see him pull out a shiny foil packet, I’m relieved. Even though I’m on the Pill, I’d be the lucky girl who got some horrible STD the first time she had casual sex.

  The foil packet’s dangling in front of my face as he holds it between his fingers. “Suit me up, baby.” I have to chuckle, because even with my limited football knowledge, I know players use this term. What a typical guy. Chocked full of romance and all.

  Coop places the packet in my waiting hand. I’ve never done
this before. All my boyfriends and I were monogamous so there was no need. But I attended a public high school, sat through health class as we sheathed bananas so this should be easy. I hope.

  I tear the foil at the little cut indent and pull the condom out. I pause and look up at his face. His eyes are definitely giving me the go-ahead signal. I scoot down beneath him just a little as he’s on knees with his legs resting on both sides of me.

  I come face to face with the part of him that needs to be suited up. My hands rise up to touch him. He’s velvet and stone. Hot and strong. Daringly, I pump my hand up and down the length of him. He moans and I squirm at the sound. There’s something powerful about making him come undone.

  His reaction spurs me on even more and I bravely open my mouth, letting my lips enclose around him. Ridges of him meeting my tongue while my hand still holds him, moving. Now I swear he’s starting to shake. The arms that are holding him up are trembling as a result of what I’m doing to him.

  “Oh, God.” He moans with words slurred together. “I want you now.”

  He moves away from me in a flash. I eye him in question, but his intentions are made clear quickly when he grabs the condom out of my hand and rolls it down himself in one quick motion. He settles between my legs one more time, lining himself up with me, then bucks his hips.

  In that one solid motion, he’s in me and I cry out, not from pain, more from the unexpected onslaught. He stills as my cry subsides then looks me in the eye, searching my face to see if I’m okay.

  I push my hips forward while he’s motionless, wanting more, he gets the message I’m sending and unleashes. Lifting my ass in his hands, he sits up more on his knees and starts relentlessly thrusting into me. He’s in total control of my body. It’s his alone right now.

  I close my eyes as my back arches off the bed; greedily receiving everything he’s giving me. I’ve never had sex like this before. Bordering rough. It’s a forceful, intense passion. I know I’m totally ruined for anyone else now as I feel another orgasm approaching. All I can do now is submit to it and chant Oh my God over and over. A litany to his rhythmic thrusts.