Faithful

by S. A. Wolfe

  My incredulous expression at Leo gets Lauren’s attention. She bites her lower lip, and I know she’s thinking the same thing.

  Cooper leans back in his chair and pats his stomach—with only one hand, of course—and gives me a mischievous grin. “That’s a good idea. I’m going to take you up on your offer.”

  “Fa-boo-us,” I say dryly.

  Lauren fills his wine glass. “Why don’t you two take your wine outside, and we’ll join you after we clean up.”

  “I’ll do the dishes,” I volunteer. “You and Leo go with Cooper to the porch. I’ll take care of the kitchen since you did all the cooking.”

  “I’ll help you,” Cooper says.

  Lauren tosses a serving spoon into a plate with a loud clank. “Would you two just go outside already? Leo and I have this.”

  Cooper releases my leg and stands then puts his arm out for me. He’s actually going to escort me to the porch? I sigh and pick up my wine glass, resigned to the fact that Lauren is indeed trying to push us together as much as possible.

  As we leave the table, Cooper pulls his extended arm back and quickly grabs my hand. “Don’t even think of throwing your wine in my face.”

  “I wouldn’t waste good wine like that. I need all the alcohol I can get. You know what Lauren’s trying to do, don’t you?” I ask as we step out onto the front porch.

  “I’m perfectly fine with her trying to fix us up.” He takes my wine glass and sets it on the teak coffee table along with his own glass. Then he falls down onto the wicker loveseat, pulling me with him. We sink into the fluffy cushions, and before I can right myself, he pulls my legs across his own and leans in to kiss me. I give an unconvincing, protesting yelp before my hands reach for his face and I kiss him back. His weight is partially on top of me as he lays me down, kissing me long and gracefully. Another well-practiced stud.

  “We can’t do this here,” I mumble against his lips. “They’ll be out here any minute.”

  “No, they won’t,” he says against my neck. “They are going to leave us alone.” He nips my neck and I shiver, feeling my nipples pebble at the same time.

  Did you and Lauren plot this?” As I run my fingers through his hair, my lips and tongue grazing the stubble on his cheek, he moans, sending a flurry of activity to my nether regions. I’m incredibly wet and on the verge of delirium.

  “No.” His voice is raspy. “This wasn’t planned on my part, but Lauren knows you and I have a thing for each other.”

  “I’ve never said any such thing to her.”

  “She’s your best friend and can read you like I can.”

  “Oh, stop with that goddamn reading business,” I mumble against his lips.

  He keeps kissing me and grinds the hard bulge in his jeans against my thigh, leaving little to my imagination of how big his erection is. I shamelessly arch into him, wanting more but expecting to come to my senses any second now. Any second now, Imogene.

  Cooper keeps it slow, his lips and tongue so gentle they intensify every sensation for me. I’m tasting him, feeling his warm skin and inhaling his musky scent, everything about him feeling wonderful.

  He slips his hand up under my tank top and reaches for a breast that is spilling out of my demi bra, fondling it, pinching my nipple as I devour his mouth. I’m certainly not coming to my senses. I want to touch him all over. I want him on me, in me, all over me.

  Reaching a hand down, I palm the outside of his jeans. With him being unbelievably hard and big, I honestly don’t know how he keeps his cock contained in his jeans.

  He groans. “Imogene, I don’t want you to stop, but I’m about to cream my pants. I want you now, but if you’re not ready to go upstairs to one of the bedrooms with me this second and let me do everything I’ve imagined doing with you, then we have a problem.”

  “We have a problem,” I say between heavy breaths.

  “Will this help?” he asks, raking up my shirt and snapping open my bra.

  He takes a few seconds to regard my breasts with reverence before his mouth closes over a hard nipple and sucks … and licks. I’m breathing hard, thinking that, if he keeps it up, he could be the first man to give me an orgasm by doing this. He then moves to my other breast and gives it equal treatment.

  When he undoes my jeans and slips his hand under my panties, his devotion to my appreciative sex amplifies. He circles two fingers slowly around my wet opening, going deeper each time, then moves back up to lightly rub my clit. Meanwhile, I manage to undo his jeans and push them down from his narrow hips. His boxer briefs are next, and he lifts his hips so I can work the snug fabric over his growing appendage. I keep one hand grasped to his firm ass while I use my other hand to stroke his length, lightly at first and then harder until Cooper’s grunts increase. I reach under his balls and stroke all the way up to the tip where I play with the sensitive head.

  “Christ, I’m going to come. I vote we go upstairs to a bedroom,” he grits out through his teeth.

  I love having his mouth and hands on me, and a lie detector would literally explode if I said I didn’t want to go to bed with Cooper and engage in every sexual image my mind has conjured up over the last five minutes. I could easily have an orgasm if he keeps fondling me, but there’s an older, wiser Imogene in here somewhere saying no. She’s the one who has been tallying up the previous boyfriends and doing a thorough analysis on why they were wrong for me. In my gut, I know I want whatever I have with Cooper to be handled with care. I desperately want to screw him; I want to know every inch of Cooper and find out firsthand what he does in bed. I just don’t want to mess this up.

  “Wait,” I utter with disappointment. I could slap myself.

  Cooper stops moving, his weight on me a solid mass of heavy breathing.

  “I want to do this, but …”

  “But what?” His face is directly above me, his intense eyes staring directly into mine without blinking.

  “I barely know you, and I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again.”

  “You’ve known me for over a year,” he says incredulously.

  “We’ve been around each other for over a year, but I don’t know much about you. Nothing personal, at least.”

  Cooper moves off me quickly and adjusts his clothing before briskly walking to the other end of the porch. “Ahhh,” he growls loudly, flinging his arms out, shaking the frustration out of his system.

  I sit up and secure my bra and top. “Sorry, but—”

  “No, you’re right. Nothing to be sorry about, Imogene.” He walks back to me, squats down, and places his crossed arms on my thighs. “You don’t know me the way I know you,” he says solemnly.

  He’s extremely intense. This is the side of him that was a federal agent, the serious man with an expression that gives nothing away, and this is the real Cooper, the one I don’t know.

  “I like you, Cooper, but I’m not ready for this ... with you.” I reach out and hesitantly place my hand over his.

  His tongue darts out and runs across his bottom lip as he looks down at my hand. Then he places his other hand on top of mine, sandwiching my hand. “It’s okay. For me, this has been happening excruciatingly slow because I’ve had months to think about it. For you, it’s happening too fast. I get it.”

  I exhale nervously. I’m not ready to sleep with him, though I also don’t want him to walk away from this. “Do you want to go upstairs and watch a movie? I know it’s not what you had in mind, and you can go home if you’d rather.”

  “Sure. Let’s do that.” He picks my hand up and squeezes it before standing and pulling me up with him.

  We take our wine glasses and go up to the second floor library where Jess put in big, cozy couches and a large, flat screen TV before she left and moved in with Carson. I pop in a DVD, some thriller that I pay little attention to.

  Cooper takes off his shoes and puts his feet up on the coffee table, reclining on the couch. He then nestles me against his side,
and we talk quietly, speculating over what will happen to Matt Damon before I become too sleepy to care. I am snuggled into the crook of Cooper’s arm, my face resting on his chest, when I feel myself drifting off. The last thing I remember is Cooper’s hand mindlessly playing with my hair and lightly stroking my head.

  Eleven

  “Hey, beautiful.” I hear Cooper’s voice close by.

  I’m warm and cozy and coming out of a pleasant dream I’ve already forgotten.

  “Good morning,” he says, rubbing my back.

  I’m stretching against something hard when I open my eyes, finding myself on top of Cooper, holding on to him like he’s a life raft. Just what I needed; my body trapped the guy on the couch while I slept.

  “Sorry. I tend to hog the bed when I sleep. You should have woken me up.” I roll to the side so he can get up, but he doesn’t move. I realize I’ve given him too much information about my sleeping habits with others.

  I rub my eyes and notice that he looks the same in the morning as he does during the day. His hair doesn’t look like the bird’s nest I’m fingering on top of my head, and he doesn’t even look tired.

  “It was actually very comfortable,” he says. “I dozed off right after you did, and we somehow went horizontal. You have an indentation on your cheek from one of my buttons.”

  Sure enough, when I feel my face, there’s a little groove on my cheek. I groan and Cooper smiles. I attempt to sit up, but he pulls me back down, turning on his side to face me, mere inches from me.

  While I study his full lips and think of how nice it would be to kiss him again, he regards me with the same fascination. For a second, it seems like we’re going to give in to that immediate desire.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he says, focusing on my eyes with a renewed energy.

  “Really? That’s the best you can do? Every guy says that in the morning.”

  He chuckles and places his hand on my waist. “That’s not what I was talking about, but if you think I’m like every other guy, let me show you what I’ve got.” He begins to unbutton his jeans when I slap his hands. He grabs my hand and traps it up over my head. “Fine, we’ll save this for next time, and I’ll remember this position.”

  “Sure,” I say, holding back a laugh. I’m beginning to really enjoy his persistence. “So what’s the surprise?”

  “I’m going to help you and Lauren out today. It’s Saturday, so you have me for as long as you need.”

  “I don’t get it.” This time, I’m able to push myself up and climb over him to get off the couch and out of the sexual danger zone.

  He rolls over and stands up, stretching gracefully. “Lauren said you two need someone to put the beads in something or other. She said it’s easy grunt work, but time-consuming, so I’ll do the grunt work.”

  “You told Lauren you’re going to fill the bead trays?” I force a laugh.

  “What’s so funny about that?” He shoves his hands in his jeans and appraises me with a sexy, little smile.

  “It takes hours to pick out the tiny beads and fill the trays. It’s boring and annoying when the beads get messed up. Thanks for the offer, but you can’t do it, Cooper. You’ll hate it.”

  “Jesus, here we go again. Quit trying to get rid of me. Think of me as Lauren’s volunteer and pretend I’m not there.”

  “Like I can do that,” I mutter. “You take up so much room.”

  Cooper turns his head to hide a mischievous glint in his eye. Before I can ask what he’s thinking, I hear a commotion in the downstairs foyer.

  “Where’s the party?” Dylan’s voice rings out.

  “Oh, no. What’s going on?” I ask Cooper.

  He exhales slowly. “Well, if you didn’t like the first part of my surprise, you’re really going to hate the second part.”

  “You invited Dylan to help with the beads?” I ask in a shrill tone. I really hate this idea. I was excited to get up early and jump right into work, but how will I be able to concentrate when the lascivious Viking from my dream kiss is going to be sitting near me? What’s more, throwing Dylan into the mix is like having a wild, barking dog in your face. These two take over any place they occupy. The day will be destroyed.

  “Imogene, I didn’t invite anyone. I insisted they all come and help. Everyone,” he explains before he leans down and kisses my cheek. “Like I said, good morning, beautiful.”

  Dazed, I hear the clamor of our friends filing in and heading into the kitchen.

  “Let’s get some breakfast, and then you can crack the whip. We all work for you today.”

  “God, I hope Lauren knows how to organize all of you because this looks like a disaster in the making. Cooper, you’re … I’m going to go wash my face and change clothes.”

  A half-hour later, after coffee and blueberry muffins that Emma and Dylan brought over, Carson and Jess are sitting at one end of the worktable, Leo and Lauren opposite them, and Cooper and I are sitting across from Emma and Dylan. Couples, again.

  Emma and Dylan look rested and tan as they happily fill us in on their honeymoon in Mexico. I’m still feeling discombobulated from waking up on a bed of Cooper splendor and then receiving the news he’s enlisted our friends to spend their day off working in our stifling hot bead room.

  Dylan opens the windows, but we’re all sweating profusely while Lauren organizes trays, bead cases, and design sheets on the table. I begin working on the necklace she places in front of me while everyone else is given a very thorough lesson on picking up the beads and putting them in the tray grooves according to the color-coded blueprints provided. Lauren enunciates each word and step as if she’s talking to second-graders who have been put in charge of Houston’s Mission Control Center.

  “So, basically, you want us to put the beads on these trays,” Emma repeats slowly, pointing to her tray.

  Everyone except Lauren laughs.

  “Listen, people, one wrong bead, and the necklace is fucked,” Lauren stresses, flicking both hands open. “Imogene, don’t laugh. You, more than anyone, know what a bitch it is to fix a mistake.”

  Sometimes, I forget how regimented Lauren can be about procedures. When she has it in her head how something needs to be done, she doesn’t like any deviation. We’ve been living and working together for so long I automatically follow her rules, for the most part. However, with a culmination of stress and sleep deprivation, watching her lecture the others has me laughing so hard I start crying when Dylan does a perfect imitation of her high-pitched voice and hand waving. Cooper hands me a tissue to dry my eyes as Leo puts his arm around Lauren to ease her off the ledge of beading insanity.

  “Babe, take a seat. We can do this. Have a little faith in your nimrod friends,” Leo says softly to her.

  “Oh, I apologize, everyone,” she begins crying. “It’s the pregnancy. I’m so excited and scared.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Jess and Emma shout together.

  Carson and Dylan look worriedly at each other, as if it’s something catching. They watch their wives run over to hug Lauren.

  “I thought we were supposed to keep this a secret until after the wedding,” Cooper says.

  “That was never going to happen with Lauren,” Leo shakes his head.

  “I had a handle on it for almost an hour,” Lauren manages to say between her tears and laughter.

  “She did break her own record,” I add. “You can’t expect the town gossip to keep a secret of this magnitude to herself. No way.”

  “Wow, a kid.” Dylan looks a little stunned at the prospect.

  “Congratulations,” Carson adds, giving Dylan a big brother glare.

  “Congratulations.” Dylan nods. “This is great. Should we help you set up a nursery, Leo?”

  “Hey, that’s something to consider,” Cooper says to Carson. “A baby line of furniture.”

  “I don’t know.” Carson shakes his head. “Cribs have to comply with certain codes, and at our price
point, we’re talking high-end stuff, and most people buy their baby crap at the big mass retailers. It might not be profitable enough to take on.”

  “Baby crap?” Lauren snaps.

  “Sorry, I meant cribs. Not crap.” Carson gives me the what-the-hell face.

  “Her hormones are whack,” Leo says apologetically, receiving a really good whack on his arm from Lauren for that remark.

  “You guys, show a little sensitivity,” Jess scolds them. “This is beautiful news, and you’re ruining it for Lauren.

  “I’m okay,” Lauren wipes her eyes. “Leo is right. One minute, I’m fine, and the next, I’m …”

  “The prison matron of Cell Block H,” I finish for her, making Lauren laugh. “Why don’t you go take a nap, sweetie? We can handle this. You drilled the instructions into them.”

  “No, I don’t want to miss anything. I’m working today, and you people better have brought your A game.”

  “And by A game, she means gossip,” I clarify.

  As Cooper puts his hand on the nape of my neck, nudging me to look at him, his mouth curves ever so slightly. I’m well aware that he merely wants to remind me he’s paying attention to everything I do and say. It’s a pleasant sensation, having his warm gaze devoted to me. Lauren may be riding the roller coaster of baby fever, but she catches the look between Cooper and me and tips her chin up approvingly.

  “Damn!” Dylan shouts as he drops a bead and it rolls under the table. Then the big oaf crawls under the table, knocking his back against it and causing everyone to grab their trays in a panic.

  “Jesus, Dylan, you almost took out the whole table.” Carson looks beside himself.

  “Kcuffing-A, Dyl, be careful,” I snap.

  “What?” Dylan looks at me, confused.

  Why am I following the advice of teenage twats? I sound like one of them.

  “Imogene is trying not to swear,” Lauren says in a motherly tone that even my own mother wouldn’t use.

  “Well, these little fuckers are hard to hold onto,” Dylan says, returning to his stool. While Emma pats his back, I realize these couples are all perfectly matched for each another. They have the yin and yang going on. Neurotic Jess and Nurturing Carson, Energetic Dylan and Soothing Emma, and Bossy Lauren and Loving Leo. This is how I always think of these married couples, and it’s so odd considering that, two years ago, everyone was single and very much unattached.