by Anya Summers
She was padding toward the kitchen, thinking some tea and soup would be nice, when a knock rapped against the front door.
Her belly dropped into her toes. There was only one person it could be. Inhaling a deep breath, she strode to the front door. She had to be firm and resolved with him. She was too much of a powder puff to carry on an affair with him and not care for him. She wasn’t the casual sex type of gal.
She opened the door. He was devastatingly handsome. He’d taken time to change and freshen up. She drank in the sight of him. Cole was her every dark fantasy brought to full color and surround sound life.
“What can I do for you, Cole?” she asked, proud that her voice sounded firm.
“Well, first you could let me in out of the cold. And then you could have dinner with me.” He held up a to go bag from the Elkhorn Restaurant.
“Cole, I… fine, come in,” she said, caving as the flavorful aroma of whatever he’d brought to eat reached her nose. She was being weak, but with her stomach grumbling and her mouth watering, she wasn’t going to let good food go to waste. And, okay, so she was easy. She stepped back, giving him enough room to enter.
Cole brushed past her and she caught a whiff of him. The spicy woodsy scent made her knees tremble as she shut the door. She straightened her spine, determined to remain aloof and unaffected.
He stopped in the living room. “Why didn’t you start a fire? It’d be much warmer in here.”
“I hadn’t had a chance to yet. I… Cole, why are you here?” she asked.
He set the bag on the coffee table and ambled over to her fireplace. He knelt down, moved the glass doors and began breaking up kindling. “I brought some dinner and figured we should talk,” he said, not looking at her while he built a fire.
Fear slithered in her belly. They were going to have The Talk. “Would you like a glass of wine? I don’t have any beer or anything.” And for this upcoming conversation, she was going to need it.
Cole stood once flames were leaping and dancing cheerily and said, “Wine would be nice.”
With a nod, Mia scurried into the kitchen and poured them each a glass of chardonnay. Her hands shook, splashing some of the liquid over the rim. Why was she nervous? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen everything there was to see, or she’d never had a guy break up with her before. Carrying the wine glasses, she padded into the dining room. Cole was at the table, opening the to go cartons.
“It smells great,” she murmured, her mouth watering at the aromas.
He’d grabbed a few burgers with all the trimmings and French fries. She hadn’t eaten a burger in ages. He placed ketchup and mustard bottles from the restaurant on the table.
When she raised a brow at him, he replied with a shrug, “I didn’t know if you had any, so I brought what I could.”
Dammit!
This would be so much easier if he wasn’t so damn thoughtful, always making sure she was taken care of and had what she needed. How could she remain firm and unmoved when he thought of simple things like this? She couldn’t. She cleared her throat and said, “Thank you. I am hungry and wasn’t in the mood to cook.”
Mia was all too aware of him when he took the seat beside her instead of across the table. It made the simple dinner far more intimate and she had to concentrate as she poured ketchup next to her fries.
Cole murmured, “Dig in.”
She was hungrier than she thought and lit into the burger with relish. She plowed through half of it before she looked up and grinned sheepishly.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize how hungry I was. The burger’s really good,” she said and dragged a fry through ketchup before taking a bite.
“That they are; my future sister-in-law is quite the talented chef,” Cole replied, but his expression remained stoic and unreadable.
“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked, not wanting to put it off any longer.
Cole sipped his wine and then glanced her way. Regret infused his black gaze. Her stomach plummeted through the floor.
He said, “Mia, I enjoyed the time we spent together.”
“But?” she said. Her heart squeezed painfully and she dug her nails into her palm.
“This relationship can’t continue, not without someone getting hurt. I don’t want you to think that I regret being with you because I don’t. I enjoyed every bit of our time at the cabin. But I think it’s best, for both of us, if we stop things now,” he said, his face indecipherable as he studied her.
The food turned to ash in her mouth and the meal no longer held any appeal. She picked up her wine glass and what was left of her dinner in the carton, then left the table. She marched into the kitchen. Her body vibrated with anger and such agony. She’d known he was going to end things, but she’d not been prepared for the lancing pain. She shoved her leftovers into the fridge. Perhaps she would get hungry again and want them later. And maybe she should just leave the lodge. This place, this adventure of hers, was becoming far too costly.
But Cole followed her into the kitchen. Sneaky bastard. He placed a hand on her elbow and said, “Mia.”
“No further explanation needed. You’re breaking up with me, or ending whatever this was, a one night fuck fest with a ‘Gee, thanks, it’s been fun, but now it’s over.’ Let me guess, it’s not you, it’s me, right?” She yanked her arm from his hand and poured more wine into her glass.
“Mia…”
She shook her head, not meeting his eyes or letting him see how much he was hurting her. Her voice raw, she whispered, “Just go.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. I don’t want to hurt you. I think it’s best if we stop things before they get too complicated,” Cole stated.
She snorted and shook her head. “Easiest for you, you mean.”
“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I never should have touched you?” Cole asked, his voice laced with fury.
Back to being the sexy surly cowboy again, apparently.
“Yeah, well, you did,” she said, a sob lodged in her throat. She brushed past him, then decided to play dirty and dropped her robe.
Ignoring Cole, she sat back down at the dining table, sipping her wine. He prowled up behind her. She hid her yearning and the fact that his nearness caused everything inside her body to liquefy.
On a muttered curse, Cole’s hands clamped down over her shoulders. His touch zinged through her body and her nipples puckered.
“I thought you were leaving,” she said, as dispassionately as she was able to with him touching her. Her heart was hammering. Perhaps he didn’t want her as much as she wanted him. But the kinetic energy infused the air around them.
“I want you to lie across the table for me,” he growled, his baritone suffused with heat.
Her breath caught and her sex clenched. She replied, “You said you didn’t want me.”
Her entire body vibrated. When she didn’t move under her own steam, he hauled her up, shoved the chair out of the way, and bent her torso over the table. He pressed his pelvis against her rear and rocked his hips so that the firm ridge of his erection fit snug against her crease. His jeans created extra friction and she gasped. His hand slid around her neck as he bent forward and growled into her ear.
“Does that feel like I don’t want you? I was trying to be a goddamn gentleman here, but you are trying my patience, city girl.”
“I don’t want a gentleman,” she whispered, her voice thick with need. Then his free hand cupped her breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned.
“And what do you want?” he asked, his voice low as he tugged her nipple.
Gasping at the pleasure-pain electrifying her body, she cried, “You. I need you, Sir, please.”
He snarled a dark curse, then said, “And you’ll have me. Stay exactly as you are. If you move without my permission, you will be spanked.”
Her pussy clenched at his words, even though her bottom was still a touch sore from earlier.
Cole shifted and the distinct sound of his zipper lowering caused her pussy to throb in sweet anticipation. Then the head swiped through her crease and she moaned, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the table. With a single roll of his hips, his thick cock penetrated her sheath.
“Cole,” she whimpered.
There was no preamble, no foreplay. He was inside, stretching her sensitive flesh, filling her, surrounding her so that she was immersed in him. Mia had craved his touch from the moment he’d walked into her cabin. She hadn’t lied to him when she’d mentioned she couldn’t resist him. He was a drug in her system. A sexy, six foot, ripped cowboy who seemed to know precisely how to love her.
One large hand kept her upper torso pressed against the table and the other dug into her hip as he pumped his fat cock inside her pussy.
He grunted as he pounded inside her clasping heat. Her thighs were pressed together, making her channel so much tighter. Cole’s cock was already huge, but in this position, her body was being torn asunder and she was loving every blessed minute of his hard, brutal fucking. And that’s what it was. Fucking. In the most carnal, animalistic sense of the word.
Cole jack-hammered his shaft inside her clenching sheath. The table shook. His fingers dug harshly into her hip and would probably leave more bruises on her skin but she didn’t care. Her palms were slick with sweat against the table. She was so close to climaxing, her moans rose in tenor and joined the cacophony of slapping flesh and grunts.
Then Cole’s hand on her hip slid underneath her hips. With his cock pistoning in hard, long, brutal strokes, he pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger.
“Oh God, Cole!” she wailed as her entire body spasmed. Ecstasy poured over her in lacerating waves. She came hard and fast, her body quivering.
His cock jerked and filled her clenching heat with hot jets of semen. His bellow joined her moans. He still pumped in her sheath, slowing by degrees, drawing out their mutual pleasure. When his hips stopped their rocking motion and he withdrew from her body, Mia was boneless and too thoroughly satisfied to move. Her legs trembled. Her pussy was dripping; Cole’s semen dribbled out.
He lifted her up into his arms and carried her back into her bedroom. He drew the covers down and laid her down. Her lids were heavy but she watched him. He’d been in such a hurry to screw her brains out, he’d not even removed his boots or jeans, had just shoved them down far enough to free his manhood. But he stripped the rest of his clothing off now, tossing the jeans and boxers, his belt and shirt on the nearby chair.
“I thought you were leaving.”
He gave her a manly shrug, his massive shoulders rippling with the movement. And his eyes glowed with lust and something more that caused her heart to speed up.
“This—us—has an expiration date, Mia. You leave to go back to your life in less than two weeks.”
“What if, instead of worrying about how and when it will end, we just enjoy each other?” she replied, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth. She was the queen of worry and panic.
A single dark brow rose as he slid into bed and pulled her close. “You mean keep this thing between us to just sex?”
She hid her wince as best she could. “If that’s what you want. Maybe we could attend this club of yours. Who knows, in two weeks, I might get tired of your sorry ass,” she said, attempting to keep it light and noncommittal even though her heart felt like a hundred iron-tipped arrows had pierced it.
“You think so?” he murmured with a wicked glint in his gaze.
“It could happen, but until then…” Her breath caught as his thick erection brushed against her belly.
“Until then?” he said huskily, his hands working their magic over her body.
Mia shifted onto her side so that they were aligned shoulders to hips. She licked her lips, her gaze trained on his and then gripped his cock and said, “I happen to enjoy this part of you.”
Cole groaned and silenced her with his lips. It was a long time before either one of them came up for air.
Chapter 22
The next three days passed in a blur for Mia. She wrote pages upon pages. Shortly after Cole had left her bed three days ago, she had worked at her computer, the story suddenly pouring out of her in waves. She wrote until her body ached. Until her hands cramped, and she developed a crick in her neck.
She was so enmeshed in her fictional world, she didn’t think about Cole, or the fact that he hadn’t come by her cabin. Or had so much as sent up a smoke signal to let her know he was still kicking.
Granted, the next forecasted snow had barreled through the region and dumped an additional eight inches, which made Mia glad to be back in her cabin and not stuck up in a mountain cabin—for the most part.
She missed him. There, she’d admitted it. She had liked having him sleep next to her. Enjoyed being snuggled up against him, feeling him breathe and having his solid presence at her back.
It was rather ironic. Mia’s life was in complete upheaval. She disliked her life in Chicago. She was sleeping with a man who had introduced her to a forbidden, erotic world that she couldn’t seem to get enough of. And they’d made no commitment to one another beyond her stay here. However, the panic and anxiety that had dominated her life, while there were still undercurrents that would most likely always be present, had lessened to a manageable degree. It wasn’t controlling her anymore. She didn’t know if it was due to this place, the man, or the fact that she was writing again. Or all three.
She wrote through meals until her eyes were blurry and strained with fatigue. At the end of the third day, she collapsed on her bed and didn’t move, didn’t so much as roll over or change positions, for a solid twelve hours.
When she did finally crack open a bleary eye, the sun streamed in through the curtains. She wondered what time it was and stretched, feeling refreshed. It was the scent of frying meat tickling her senses that drove her out of bed. She cursed the fact that she didn’t have a weapon of some sort but then asked herself what burglar or vagabond went into a person’s living space to cook.
Cole stood at the stove, frying bacon. She absorbed the sight of him in blue jeans that were distressed at the joints and hugged his mighty fine behind. His forest green flannel shirt made his tanned skin appear darker, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows as he cooked. It felt like ages had passed since she’d seen him last. His hat rested on the table.
His beard hadn’t been trimmed and was a tad longer. It made him appear more rugged and all her girly bits cheered. His dark hair was loose about his shoulders, and she had to keep herself from sighing at the thought of running her fingers through the feather-soft strands.
“Good morning,” he said the moment he spied her watching him. His gaze roved over her in her nightgown.
“Hi,” she murmured, a blush creeping up her neck.
“How did you get in? I don’t remember getting you a key,” she said.
“I own the place, remember? If you don’t want me here, just say so and I can leave. I thought you were the one who wanted to extend things past our venture in the mountains.”
“No. I do—or I did. I just… you never came back and I thought… I thought you decided to cut ties.” She voiced the fear she’d been harboring over the last few days.
Cole placed the cooked bacon on a plate covered with paper towels to drain the grease and moved the pan to a back burner to cool off. Then he walked toward her and tugged her into his arms.
Cupping her chin in his hand, he said, “I came the last three nights and found you curled up like a little kitten in bed. The first night, I tried to wake you but you wouldn’t budge, so I let you sleep. The same with the last two nights. I’m not in the habit of having my way with unconscious women.”
“You checked on me? Really?” she asked. “Why didn’t you leave a note or something, saying that you stopped by?”
“Because I was exhausted and didn’t think of it. I swear, as soon as I realized you were down for the count each
night, I stumbled home and went to bed myself. We’ve been working at clearing paths and the parking lots. Then Alex needed help with the horses… the list has been endless.”
His thumb grazed over her bottom lip. Yet it was the intensity of his gaze that razed through her body and made her tremble.
“It wasn’t a brush off, Mia. If or when we decide to go our separate ways, I will tell you. Okay?” He brushed his lips over hers briefly and pulled back.
“Okay. You could have stayed here. I wouldn’t have minded if you had slept here,” she admitted, her body relaxing against him.
“I’ll keep that in mind. How do you like your eggs?” he asked, caressing her back.
“Scrambled works.” Or they could forego breakfast entirely, considering her ovaries were screaming like idiots.
Cole released her with a sly grin, like he knew his touch has stirred her up but he wasn’t going to do anything about it. “Coming right up. There’s coffee. And I brought some of Emily’s biscuits, which are just about this side of heaven. Mason and I fight over them damn near every morning.”
Mia helped herself to some coffee. Then said, “It must be nice, having a brother. After my parents died, I used to wish that I had a sibling to confide in, who understood me. Not that my aunt wasn’t great and didn’t try to fill some pretty tough shoes, but it wasn’t the same.”
Cole sent her a glance that made her toes curl. “No, I guess it wouldn’t be. Mason is three years younger. We’ve always been tight. Not that we didn’t fight like rabid dogs growing up, because we did. Plenty of times. But we’ve always had each other’s backs when it counted, even if we wanted to strangle one another for some slight.”
“Sounds nice. Aunt Alice was wonderful, truly. It hasn’t been easy since her death last fall. She was the last of my blood relatives,” Mia said and glanced down at the dark brew in her mug. Not a day passed when she didn’t miss her aunt.
“You don’t have any other family? No other aunts or uncles, cousins even?”
“No. My dad had a sister, but she died—Lupus, I think it was—when she was in her thirties and she never had any kids. My grandparents on both sides were all dead and gone by the time I came around. I was my parents’ miracle baby. They tried for many years to get pregnant. From what I learned from my aunt, mom had two miscarriages before she finally had me. As for extended family, there are some in Ireland, like second and third cousins, and in France too. But nothing close. Do you and your brother have any close extended family?” she asked, wanting to know more about him.
