Faithful

by S. A. Wolfe

  I turn to him to see he’s quietly observing me with a little smile.

  “Let me show you the rest.” He motions for me to go back inside.

  We walk through the kitchen and down another hallway that has three immaculate bedrooms, tastefully decorated with the Blackard furniture and other modern touches against the beautifully refinished floors. The bathroom still needs a gut job, he informs me, but I’m surprised at how clean it is.

  “Were you expecting me to spend the night?” I ask as we stand at the threshold to his bedroom.

  “No. I definitely thought about it and hoped you would, but I didn’t think you’d come home with me tonight.”

  “I didn’t, either. It was when you started clapping for the baby.”

  He gives me a perplexed frown.

  “It was such a sweet thing to do, and you looked so … you know.”

  “No.” He shakes his head and moves closer to me. “I don’t know.”

  “Dashing … and …” As I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing myself against his warmth and gazing up at him, he moves his hands to rest firmly against my back.

  The quiet moment between us is bewitching to me, nothing short of a waterfall of emotions. It’s unprecedented for me to feel both arousal and gratitude, but Cooper triggers all these good feelings in me at once. I’m immediately thankful I am with him tonight and not some guy I brought home from a bar who I’d despise in the morning.

  “So, are we going in there or what?” I nod at his large bed with the blue and gray bedding. Then I see the bookcases wrapped around two walls under the windows. I push away from him, deadly curious to know what books he reads. I drop to my hands and knees and begin reading the titles. “Kant? Oh, no, no, no. Russell Bertrand. Crime and Punishment? Thomas Hardy? Okay, I like him. God, Cooper, we really do not read the same books.”

  “That’s okay, we don’t need to.”

  “Oh, good. It, a demon clown that terrorizes a town. Finally, a book I can relate to. I can’t believe you read Stephen King, Kafka, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. So Kimberly was telling the truth; you are a philosophy junkie. This is so not what I read. For the most part, I like happy books. And you have so many books on psychology and the human brain. Yikes.”

  “They are happy books. We’ll read later. Come here.” He lifts me up and pulls me back into his arms.

  “I’m surprised. I had you pegged … differently.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good.” I hesitate.

  “Imogene,” he croons all three syllables in a deep timbre, waiting for me to acknowledge what he has been saying all along.

  “Yes,” I admit. “Okay, it was not a date from hell, although you did kill our swans. But you’re right; I’m enjoying this, and … I like you, Cooper.”

  His mouth is on mine in a flash as he walks me backwards until my legs touch the edge of the bed. One of his hands travels up my bare thigh and underneath my dress until it settles firmly on a butt cheek. He doesn’t let up on the kiss while his other hand pulls the tie of the halter behind my neck. I feel it fall forward as he suddenly pulls back to look at me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, aware that my dress has fallen to the floor, my thong covers nothing, and my breasts are bursting out of my lacy demi bra. If this doesn’t have his attention, then I’ve definitely lost my sex appeal.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You are perfect,” he replies, taking a long, appreciative sweep of my body.

  I try to relax my breathing as he slides my bra straps off my shoulders and unhooks the front clasp. My nipples harden the minute I feel his gaze. Running the pads of his thumbs over my nipples, he then leans down to caress one with his tongue. While I moan as that wonderful pull in my center makes my hands frantic to touch him, he pushes me back onto the bed, bringing me swiftly up towards the pillows. His tongue circles each breast before he bites and sucks the nipples.

  “Harder,” I whisper.

  He settles himself between my legs, the erection in his jeans taunting my fresh bikini wax. I tangle my hands in his hair and hold his head against me as he sucks harder. Instinctively pushing myself against his hardness, feeling myself getting wetter, I arch up. He snaps my thong down, trailing it slowly to my feet where he flings it behind him, leaving me completely naked while he’s fully dressed. With his hands firmly holding my hips in place, he kisses his way down to my stomach then below to the wetness building between my legs.

  “Wait,” I say softly. When he looks up at me, the stubble on his chin brushes against my sensitive flesh, sending an arousing jolt through me. “Get naked. Take off your clothes.”

  He smiles and runs his tongue slowly around my clit to give me a preview before standing up. He’s quite magnificent, towering over me at his full height while I lie on the bed. He’s your gorgeous Viking, Imogene.

  He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt, as if he knows this is a show for my benefit. What a great show. I fling my arms above my head and let every muscle relax as I watch him expose his ripped pectorals and abs. With his golden tan and that surfer blond hair, I’m a hot mess, and he’s not even naked yet.

  He pauses in his strip tease. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

  I smile. It’s been a long time since a man has admired me or looked at me with adoration. I am elated that it’s coming from this man.

  As a renter of Jessica’s Victorian home, I’ve had the privilege to admire plenty of half-naked men as they did restoration work; however, I’ve never seen Cooper without a shirt. He’s the one that gives me the silly tremors that wake up my mind and body. I’ve been trying to hide this from him, but I have run out of excuses when it comes to Cooper. He’s the only man I’ve been attracted to in ages, and this is a whopper of combustible attraction.

  His eyes never leave mine, and I sense he’s using his damn profiling skills on me. He kicks his shoes off then unzips his jeans and tosses them, just my Viking in a pair of black boxer briefs now remaining. When he hooks his thumbs in the band and pushes them down, his enormous cock springs out, and I exhale and whistle at the same time.

  “You’re quite gorgeous,” I blurt out. “Get your rubbers please, Mr. MacKenzie.”

  He strides over to the nightstand and pulls out some condoms, giving an excellent view of his long, muscular legs that lead up to his firm ass. Christ, I have been with plenty of attractive guys, but they sure didn’t look or act like Cooper. He’s unique. Cooper is … the complete package.

  “How many do we need for tonight? Five? Seven?” He dangles a strip of condoms in front of me.

  “Let’s start with one,” I say, trembling a bit.

  While he rips open a foil package and rolls it on, I watch him with fascination, as if I’ve never seen this before. His amused eyes are on me the whole time, roving slowly up and down my body, as though he’s deciding where to start. My breath catches when he moves gracefully, like a panther, and plants himself above me on all fours.

  “I have Imogene naked in my bed, and she is suddenly nervous and mute. Amazing.” His deep, raspy voice sends a ripple, an awakening, through my body with the anticipation of his touch.

  I reach up and run my fingertips lightly across his cheekbone and let them trail down the back of his neck before firmly cupping it. “This is different. You seem like a new experience.”

  “I’ve been here for a while, waiting for you to notice,” he says calmly.

  “Oh, I’m noticing.” I chuckle softly, making him smile a little.

  He nudges my legs farther apart with his knee and settles his weight on his elbows with his cock pressing against my eager center, his mouth descending on my neck and leisurely kissing my sensitive spots. The sensation of his cock prodding my clit; his warm, hard abs and chest barley skimming my skin; and his tongue behind my ear causes me to moan and arch into him.

  I glide my hands down his back and around his tight ass to pull him closer to me. Unab
le to wait any longer, I take matters into my own hands, literally. I move a hand to grip his hard length, stroking it lightly then more aggressively. Cooper moans into my ear when I rub the tip against my wetness, circling it until I sense a change in his body. There’s a shock, an electric current, that’s undoing his willpower as he sucks and bites my neck.

  “Oh, God. What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “Biting, tasting you. I’m trying to make this last, and you’re trying to rush it,” he says, moving his face directly above mine. His breathing and heart rate escalate, his eyes shimmering with adoration as he looks at me.

  “It’s natural to get very excited about someone new.” I kiss his chin and lick the stubble there.

  “I’m trying to hold out so I don’t come in thirty seconds like a stupid teenage boy, and you’re making that very difficult.”

  “If it helps, I feel like a naïve, teenage girl,” I confide. “I’m actually shaking.”

  “Good. Let me take care of that for you.”

  He kisses me deeply, his tongue taking over my mouth as his hand fondles my breasts. I stroke him more fervently, his cock seeming to lengthen and get even harder. He retaliates by sucking on my nipples until they ache, making me writhe in need. I wrap my legs around him, gyrating my hips and rubbing his cock against my clit.

  “That’s it,” he grits. “We’ll have to save the appetizers for later.” He removes my hand and takes his cock, plunging into me.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “Now I remember how to do this.”

  He chuckles and holds still. “Give me a sec.” He pushes farther, and I gasp again as he fills me completely.

  Gracefully swiveling his hips in smooth circles, he strikes my clit from an angle, building wonderful friction. I can’t get enough of touching him and running my hands through his hair and scoring my nails down his back. He arches back in pleasure and keeps up his slow, torturous maneuvers as he teases my clit with a finger, leaving my center soaking and swollen, on the verge of a climax.

  “Ah, Imogene, you’re so wet,” he moans, removing his finger. He looks at me, his eyes ablaze as he licks his finger. “We’re both ready.”

  While he gains purchase on the bed and begins thrusting into me, every muscle in his arms and chest tightly drawn, I greedily run my hands over his taut planes and hard ridges. Throwing his head back to flip his hair out of his face, he watches me with an intense aggressiveness as he drives into me.

  I grip his shoulders as my climax erupts and keeps cresting. My inner muscles clench and Cooper, my skilled mind reader, doesn’t stop his relentless pounding until he has wrung every last tingling spasm out of me. My legs loosen their hold on him while I feel like I’m melting into the bed.

  He drops back to his elbows and buries his head in my neck as he thrusts into me until he’s empty. He shouts something indecipherable as he finishes, and then I feel a sharp bite on the flesh between my neck and shoulder.

  “Cooper,” I groan, hugging him and tugging on his damp hair.

  He pulls his head up and regards me with a flushed, satisfied expression. Then he kisses me, his lips gently coaxing mine to let his tongue dart in for a sweet finale. He stays inside of me, keeping me in a snug embrace as he studies my face.

  “Sorry, I got a little carried away there at the end. Did I hurt you?” He touches the area of skin he bit. It feels tender, but I don’t mind.

  “No. I liked it. Does it look bad?” I ask, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

  “It’s bruised and it’s going to look worse tomorrow. Wear a shirt with a collar.” He smiles and then slowly pries his body off mine.

  He walks to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, and when he returns, I admire his beautiful physique as he climbs back into bed. I’m still sprawled in the middle of the bed where he left me. My muscles have that rubbery, detached sensation, as though I no longer control them.

  Cooper laughs softly at my content state and props himself up on his elbow, looking down at me with an incredibly sexy grin. I catch myself staring, lingering too long on each feature of his face, memorizing where the gray in his eyes turns silver and charcoal and where the curve of his lips meets his prominent cheekbones.

  “Why me, Imogene? Why were you afraid of me? And why did you decide to go out with me?”

  “Afraid is a strong word,” I reply, touching the stubble on his chin. “Cold, hard fear is more like it.”

  He bursts out laughing. “Of me? What the hell for?”

  “Because I’ve had my share of handsome men, and they’ve all turned out to be duds.”

  “Thank you for the first part, I think, but that’s a shitty thing to lump me in with all your mistakes.”

  “Duds is a strong word. I meant that, in one way or another, they severely disappointed me and failed to live up to anything that resembled what I had hoped for. And some of the jerks left me bitter and a little hurt. Can you tell?” I chuckle.

  “I’m sorry you chose poorly, and I’m sorry I got in line behind all those duds,” he says with conviction. “I should have been at the front of the line.”

  I laugh and playfully swat his shoulder before reaching for the sheet to cover myself.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” he asks, flinging back the sheet. “I like the view, and we’re not done here. Oh, and I’m out of nicknames since you hate them all.”

  Turning into him, I wrap a leg over his and cover my chest with my arm. “Imogene. I like the way you say my name.”

  “Imogene,” his deep voice responds.

  “I like that. So, no nicknames are required. And I doubt you’ve ever met another Imogene, right?”

  “I haven’t,” he says, brushing my hair back with his fingers. “Imogene it is.”

  “I’m actually getting used to baby, too.” I smile and close my eyes.

  When you’re the center of someone’s attention—whether you’re a twelve-year-old girl on the playground with the boy who turns your stomach into knots or a twenty-five-year-old woman who realizes the worst possible man is the only one who interests you—it’s a chance to feel special and imagine you have the world in the palm of your hands. Cooper has my stomachs in knots, and at least for these few moments, he makes me feel special. I memorize and catalogue this moment in his bed, how he looks at me, because I don’t know how long this will last. A night? A week? Maybe it will be a summer affair.

  “So, what are you doing, baby?” He laughs. “You’re scrunching your nose like you’re smelling something putrid.”

  “No, it’s nothing.” As I open my eyes, his smile disarms me.

  “Nothing, shit.” He kisses my nose. “You’re sizing me up, overthinking all of this.”

  “Can you blame me? I’ve had a few lousy dates over the last year, and then there was the unfortunate time I spent with Wanker Jeremy.”

  Cooper exhales slowly and drapes an arm over my waist. “Think of them as research and practice. You had to meet a few wankers before you met me so you’d know how awesome I am.”

  “Ah,” I chuckle. “So how many women have you been practicing with over the last decade? A few hundred? Thousands?”

  “Jesus, I don’t want to talk about people we’ve slept with. They aren’t ex-wives or ex-husbands, right? They don’t matter.”

  “Good response. So, did you sleep with that Pilates chick? Because I have seen the way she admires you.”

  “This is very interesting. You’re jealous.” He nips my ear lobe. “And, no, I didn’t sleep with her.”

  “How is that possible? You dated her for like two months.”

  “You kept track of that? Imogene…” He laughs and falls back on the bed, beside himself with laughter.

  I’m not proud of myself; however, his joy over my blatant jealousy is annoying and embarrassing. Kcuf!

  “I didn’t sleep with her, baby. You don’t have to be jealous.”

  “Sure,” I respond.

  He turns to
look at me. “In that two month period you so expertly kept track of, we went out about four times, only because she kept asking me out for dinner. It’s a small town, and I could only come up with so many excuses before sounding like an asshole. So, we went out a few times and talked, and that’s all that happened.”

  “Why didn’t you sleep with her? You know she wanted to.”

  “Jesus, Imogene. I didn’t want to be with anyone from this town,” he says pointedly to me, “except for you.”

  I quietly analyze this. He’s right. I’m doing my own kind of profiling and mind reading. I’m trying to figure out why he’s here with me and not with an athletic woman more similar to himself. A very limber Pilates woman would be perfect for him.

  “I thought you’d come around and be a little bit friendlier so I could ask you out.” He rolls back on his side and pins me to the bed.

  “Wait a minute. You’re saying you haven’t slept with anyone in over a year?”

  “I didn’t say that. I didn’t sleep with anyone from Hera. I never said I was celibate.”

  “Oh, of course. You and your damn bike just roamed the countryside, visiting all the little towns to find women to screw. It was your own little fuck quest.”

  “That’s exactly what it was,” he says, sarcastically. “A fuck quest. Jesus. Did you sleep with that moron who bought you a drink at the bar?”

  “The guy at the pool hall? I was there with—”

  “With Emma and Lauren. I know. I was there with some of the guys from the shop,” he says in a very measured tone.

  “Were you jealous?” I ask, surprised at how hopeful I sound.

  “Yes,” he hisses.

  “Huh.” I let my silence torture him a bit longer.

  “Well?”

  “I thanked him for the beer, and he and his friends talked to us for a while. Small talk.”

  “I know. I saw that part. I was sitting across the room,” he says, exasperated. “Did you ever go out with him after that?”

  “Did you try to ask Leo or Lauren about that?” I ask, tickling the corded muscles on his arm.

  “Imogene.” He settles himself between my legs, his growing erection pressing against my soft belly.