by R. C. Martin
I know we should stop. A small voice in the back of my head is whispering to me, telling me that I don’t know what I’m doing; reminding me that I’ve never done this with someone like Coder—someone older and no doubt more experienced. I know that we should stop. We barely know each other, and I don’t know what seventy-two hours of silence means. We should have boundaries—clearly defined boundaries.
But I don’t stop him. I can’t stop him. I want more tongue. I want his touch. I want this moment—so I take it. All of it.
“Bro—dude, respect your lady. Get a room,” Pete calls out, breaking my trance.
My cheeks are instantly on fire, and I pull my mouth from Coder’s, pushing on his shoulders to create some space between us. Though, try as I might, I don’t budge. I frown, looking down at our bodies, still smashed together, and then I seek out his eyes. My stomach clenches when our gazes lock—his darker than I’ve ever seen it. He looks so sexy that I immediately go limp in his arms.
I watch as he pulls his lower lip between his teeth while he studies me, as if he’s deep in thought. He doesn’t respond to his brother, his attention too focused on me. Then, his voice husky and low, he says, “Let’s get out of here.”
It takes me a split second to reply. In that split second, I hold fast to one undeniable truth—I want this moment, wherever it leads.
All it takes is a nod from me, and Coder and I are out of the hot tub and dressed in no time. When we wave goodbye, we get an amused smirk from Pete, a giddy smile from Willow, a knowing one from Rigs, and a blank stare from Piper. I ignore the latter, following after Coder as he hurries me to the Bronco.
As soon as we’re inside, he starts her up and blasts the heat. Nevertheless, ten minutes into our drive, I’m still freezing cold. When we arrive at his place shortly after, I start to question whether or not it was a good idea to let him bring me here. I’m too busy shivering to even remember how I felt in the moment that lead me to this decision in the first place.
Once inside, he tugs me into the kitchen, where he discards the leftover beer he bought earlier, and then proceeds to lead me to his room. The house is quiet and dark, a lot different than the last time I was here. When it really settles in that we’re all alone, I start to get nervous.
“Take your coat off, babe. I’m going to get you something to wear.”
Still shivering, I do as he says, draping the garment over the chair at his desk. I then watch as he rummages through his dresser, pulling out multiple items of clothing. When he turns toward me, offering me a stack, I look up at him in confusion.
“Um…”
“Don’t worry, Mack. I’ll step outside so you can change. Tap on the door when you’re done; I’ll get your suit and throw it in the dryer.”
“Uh—my—um—my suit?”
Quirking an eyebrow at me, he says, “Yeah, babe. You’re fucking freezing—need you out of those damp clothes.”
I’m speechless at the thought of wearing his things without any underwear on.
No. Strike that. I’m freaking out about being around him with no underwear on!
“Coder, I don’t—”
“Babe, I’m gonna step into the hallway, you’re gonna take your clothes off, you’re gonna put my clothes on, you’re gonna look hot as hell drowning in my shit, and I’m gonna kiss you because that’s about all I can think about doing right now. We clear?”
Gaping up at him, the only thing I can think about is how he just told me all he can think about is kissing me. That said, I don’t bother speaking. Instead, I offer him no more than a timid nod in response.
“Good,” he grunts, leaving me alone in his room.
After taking a deep, calming breath, I make my way to the bed and spread out the clothes he gave me. I find a pair of plaid boxers, an old, worn, soft t-shirt, and a heavy, black zip-up hoodie. Convincing myself that it’s a whole lot more than what I was wearing while in the hot tub, I obediently strip down to nothing before hurriedly donning his kind offering. Sure that the snow has done its best to undo my hair taming efforts, I don’t bother letting it back down. Instead, I take out Willow’s hair tie, carefully running my fingers through my messy curls before fixing them into a ponytail, letting it hang down my back this time.
After gathering my damp clothes in my arms, I head for the door. By the time I’ve got it opened, I’m no longer shivering. That is, until I see Coder in the hallway. The shiver that races down my spine at the sight of him, however, is not one that can be blamed on a chill.
He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants, a fresh set of boxers peeking out over the top, and nothing else. He’s gorgeous and confident and sexy, and instead of feeling nervous, my heart now swells at the thought of him and I in this house alone. Motorcycle Boots could have anyone here, and yet he’s chosen me. He keeps doing that, he keeps choosing me, and it fills me with a boldness the likes of which I’ve never known.
“Just as I thought,” he mumbles, taking my clothes from out of my arms. “Drowning and sexy as fuck.”
Before I can speak, or even blush, he dips his head and smashes a kiss against my lips. After he pulls away, he turns down the hallway with our clothes. I watch him go, until I lose sight of him in the darkness, and then I make my way back to the bed. I’m sitting on the edge when he returns, shutting his bedroom door behind him. My stomach tingles as he comes toward me. I then squeak in surprise, reaching up to hold his arms as he grabs my outer thighs, picking me up and guiding my legs around his waist.
His fingers dig into my flesh, so I lock my ankles at his back in an attempt the help support myself. It must have been the right thing to do, because he smirks at me before he slides a hand further up my side, over my bottom, and up my spine. He doesn’t stop until he’s got me by the neck, then he turns us around, lowering himself onto the bed.
Once we’re seated, he gives my neck a squeeze before he commands, “Mouth, Mack.”
The throbbing between my legs returns, but I ignore it as I slide my hands up his arms and across his shoulders, my fingers finding their way into his hair as I do his bidding—giving him my mouth.
The second my tongue grazes his, he groans, and my insides go squishy. It’s not long before I forget that I was ever cold, my body temperature rising the longer our lips stay locked. So consumed by what his mouth is doing, I don’t feel it when he unzips the front of the hooded sweatshirt I’m wearing. In fact, even as his hand glides over the fabric of his t-shirt, the heat of his touch felt against my stomach and along my side, I don’t realize what he’s doing until his palm cups my breast through the thin fabric.
The sound that spills from my throat as I pull my mouth from his is unidentifiable, even to me. I can’t tell if I’m surprised, or displeased, or excited. Looking into his eyes, I see that Coder is not discouraged. As he rubs his thumb over the fabric, grazing my now hardened nipple, I squeeze my thighs around him, my body acting of its own accord.
“Coder…” I whisper.
“That feel good, baby?” he asks, his thumb taking a second trip over my nipple, sending a pang of longing straight down to my core.
I whimper, my anxious hands feeling their way over his shoulders and down his chest. I’m overwhelmed and unsure of what to do with myself, my head foggy and all but useless. Then Coder lifts his other hand, cupping my opposite breast, his gaze glued to mine as if he’s trying to read my thoughts. Only, I have none—not with him touching me like this.
“Coder,” I breathe, still not sure if I want him to stop or keep going.
“Anyone ever touch you before, baby?”
I shake my head no, not at all embarrassed to admit the truth. I’m actually relieved to have an answer at all.
“Fuck,” he whispers, dipping his head until his lips graze the side of my neck. I arch my back, pushing my chest into his hands as I tilt my head to the side, granting him easy access to what he wants. “We’ll go slow, Mack, yeah? Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it,” he says, kissing his way up t
o my ear. When he gently tugs my lobe between his teeth, flicking his tongue against the flesh, I seal my eyes closed tight, concentrating on what his every move does to my body.
My sex is pulsing in ways it never has before, and I feel like I need something, though I’m not sure how to ask for it. What I do know is that I’m so worked up, I don’t want him to stop. Not any of it. He said we’d go slow, and I believe him. All I want to do is kiss him until I can no longer breathe.
“Coder,” I manage, my voice airy and meek. He lifts his head until his eyes are looking into mine. Daring myself to be brave, I demand, “Mouth.”
His lips crash into mine without hesitation, his hands squeezing my small breasts as he does so. I moan, my own hands feeling their way up to his shoulders, where I hold on tight, kissing him back with all that I am. When I suddenly feel something hard underneath me, I pull my lips from his again, gasping as I stare at him with wide eyes.
“Coder—I—” I start to move out of his lap, my cheeks burning when I realize what I’ve done to him. I don’t get very far before his hands are gripping my hips, holding me down over him in such a way that his erection can be mistaken for nothing else.
“I’m not gonna use it, Mack—but you’re gonna feel it. That’s what you do to me, baby. Don’t be embarrassed. Be fucking proud.”
“Um—”
He cuts me off with a kiss, this one hard and hotter than hot—so hot, I melt against him, unable to stop myself. As per usual, he calms me down as he stirs me up, and I stop fighting the unfamiliar and embrace him—wanting to live in this moment, to feel everything that he makes me feel, and to experience it because of him. Soon, the bulge that I’m sitting on doesn’t embarrass me, it turns me on—so much so, that I start to grow uncomfortable. I need something more.
“Coder,” I gasp, breaking our kiss as I press my forehead against his.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I need…something.”
“What? What do you need, baby?” he asks, his hands seeking out the bare skin of my back. His touch is hot and feels really good, but it doesn’t help. In fact, it makes it worse.
“I don’t know. I—I can’t sit on you—I mean—I can’t—” I sigh, feeling frustrated and embarrassed, and then I force my words out. “Feeling you—it’s making me crazy.”
He chuckles, making me frown in confusion before he says, “You need to come.”
“What?” I squeak.
“That feeling you’ve got—you want me, Mack. You need to come.”
I shake my head at him, planting my hands on his chest as I insist, “No. We can’t. I can’t. I’m not—”
“Babe, I got you. Do you trust me?”
I pull in a shuddered breath as I stare into his dark, soulful eyes, and I know he would never hurt me or take advantage of me. Not him. Not Coder. He takes care of me, and he listens to me, and I’m sure that my answer is yes. I do trust him. But that doesn’t make me feel any less nervous.
In spite of my anxiety, I nod my reply. He smiles, trailing his fingers down my back and around the waistband of his boxers. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he eases his fingers beneath the fabric and over my sex. I start to panic, not entirely sure that I’m ready for him to touch me so intimately; but there’s another part of me that won’t be stopped.
The girl who makes out with a gorgeous guy she barely knows—that’s the girl I want to be right now. The girl who goes out on spontaneous dates—that’s the girl I want to be right now. Most of all, the girl who sits in Coder’s lap, the girl on the receiving end of a stare so full of lust and longing that it makes me feel beautiful and desired—that’s the girl I want to be. So I push away my panic, and I am that girl. I can barely breathe as he slips two fingers between my folds, gliding them slowly up my seam. When he makes contact with my clit, I’m boneless.
“Fuck,” he groans, his arm holding me up at my back as he grazes over my entrance once more. “You’re so wet for me, baby. That’s so hot. Fuck—that’s so hot.”
I don’t speak in response, my words gone, my body trembling as he teases me. When his fingers return to my clit and I throw my head back, he stays there, slowly pressing circles around it. Soon, I’m panting, my nails digging into his biceps as the pleasure inside of me builds and builds.
“Eyes on me, Mack.”
I whimper, righting my neck to meet his gaze, and he applies more pressure as he murmurs, “Come for me, baby. Take what you need.”
Before he’s even finished his sentence, there’s an explosion at my core, the sensation lighting my entire body on fire. I cry out, unable to stop myself, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure courses through me. It’s a sensation unlike any that I’ve ever imagined, and it makes me feel lightheaded with relief. When I start to come down, I suddenly feel unbearably shy. With Coder’s hand still on my sex, I bury my face in his neck, not sure where to go from here.
He eases his fingers out of the shorts, then wraps his arm around me, reaching down to grab hold of one side of my butt. His other hand, still at my back, keeps me close. It isn’t until he presses a gentle kiss against the side of my neck that I realize he’s cradling me, allowing me to have this moment without pushing me or questioning me. It’s comforting, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
“You good, babe?” he murmurs against my skin.
Burrowing against him further, I nod my reply.
“Are you going to come out of hiding?”
“In a minute,” I whisper, a small smile playing at my lips.
He presses another kiss against my neck before he mutters, “Eyes up, Mack.” When I don’t comply right away, he kisses me again, this time using a little tongue. I shiver in his arms before he coaxes, “Eyes up, Mack.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth before I come out of hiding. I’m greeted by that smile that I love, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Let’s get something straight, yeah?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at me before he continues. “You make me hard like you’re still doing right now—lookin’ flushed and sated and sexy as fuck—you own that shit. You need me to make you come, all you have to do is ask. And when I get you there, you don’t hold back and you don’t hide those eyes from me. You’re beautiful, especially when you’re coming undone, and that’s mine—I get to own that. Don’t take it from me. Deal?”
My insides turn to mush as his words wash over me. Staring into his eyes, I see the girl he sees, and I like her. I like her a lot. So, in an attempt to own who I am and the connection I have with the man who makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt, I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him close as I bring my lips so close to his, I can feel his breath kiss my face.
“Deal,” I whisper.
“Babe?”
His gaze drops to what I know he wants, and a smile tugs at my lips as I ask, “Yeah?”
“Mouth.”
“’Kay.”
It’s nearly two in the morning when Coder walks me to my door. I don’t want to say goodbye, afraid of how long it’ll be before I’ll get the chance to say hello. Nevertheless, I know it’s time for me to climb into my own bed. I’m sure that I’ll fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow.
“I’m glad we got to hang out tonight,” I say when we come to a stop.
He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. “Me, too.”
My stomach knots up with nerves, but I don’t let that stop me from leaning into him as I blurt out, “Don’t disappear for seventy-two hours. I—I—I missed you.”
“I’ll work on that,” he says before leaning down to kiss me.
Despite the hours we spent doing this already, I hold nothing back as I return his affection. He doesn’t linger long. After he pulls away, he touches his forehead to mine, sighing as he says, “You’re a hard one to leave, you know that?”
I don’t get a chance to respond before he presses a quick kiss to my lips. Pulling away again, he
tells me, “I’ll see you soon.”
“’Kay,” I whisper, his arms still locking me against him.
I watch as his eyes dance around my face before settling on my lips. He kisses me one last time—this one slow and wet—and then he lets me go, taking a step back.
“Fuck—get inside. Lock me out,” he demands with a grin.
I giggle, digging out my keys before opening the door. It’s dark and quiet inside, as I suspected it would be. Brooke must still be out with Owen at the party they went to earlier. When I turn to catch one more glimpse of Coder, he shakes his head, drawing in a deep breath as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Deadbolt, babe. I mean it.”
With a grin, I shut him out, sliding the deadbolt home. Only then do I hear him call out, “Night, Mack,” before the sound of his boots fades away.
Two Weeks Later…
Where are you? Haven’t seen you all day! Working late tonight. Catch up tomorrow?
I stare down at my phone, worrying my lip with my teeth before I type my reply. I’ve been spending more and more time away from home, something new for me and, obviously, something Brooke is still getting used to. I still haven’t confided in her about Coder. I know that I should, but I’m still not ready. Whatever we are, whatever we’re becoming, we’re still figuring it out, and there’s something liberating about this being mine to figure out. There are no outside influences in my head; no one telling me that I’m not enough; no one telling me that he’s too different; no one telling me that we’re not in the same league and there is no hope of a future for us.
Of course, Addie knows about him, but as our relationship progresses, I find myself telling her less and less. Coder and I now have intimate secrets, something I’ve never had with anyone before—at least not like this—and I know her. I know my sister. I know she would not approve—my brother even less so. In fact, for a moment, I didn’t even know if I approved. The morning after our night alone in his bedroom, I struggled with the morality of what we had done.
