Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2)

by Belinda Boring

  With both our cars parked outside, Cooper and I quickly agreed to follow each other back to his house. It was only a fifteen-minute drive but I was grateful for the brief respite being alone would give me.

  Adjusting my rearview mirror, more out of habit than anything, I cast one last look at Heather as she stood waving from her front door.

  He’s who he is because of you, I thought, ready to pull away from the curb.

  But I also knew she was right. Even I’d seen the change in Cooper since that first night here where I’d approached him after a gig.

  Life was good.

  The future excited me.

  Love could definitely heal the most painful of wounds.

  Chapter Nine

  Cooper

  The soft clicking sound as Caylee’s fingers flew over her laptop’s keyboard seemed to match the rhythm of my own heart beating. The thought made me inwardly snort—my body reacting to even the slightest thing she did.

  After leaving my parents home, it had remained unspoken between us—the overwhelming need to be alone. Where I would’ve taken her out to celebrate winning the scholarship, the paper she’d written one I knew she’d poured herself into, I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I refused to share her with anyone tonight.

  There’d be plenty of time for parties.

  All I could focus on was getting her beneath me—naked.

  How glorious it had been . . . the way her softness melted into my hardness. The way she yielded to my touch, to the kisses I feathered softly over her body, the way her back arched in pleasure.

  She was so beautiful it was maddening. I couldn’t get enough. If that made me a selfish asshole—the desire to keep her in bed with me—then I embraced that part of me completely.

  Staring at her now, her gorgeous legs stretched out in front of her as she bit her bottom lip, concentrating on whatever she was doing on her computer, it was tempting to close her laptop and begin round two.

  Tracing my fingers lightly over the bare skin of her ankle, I leaned forward, replacing my hand with my mouth. Goosebumps rose, spreading like wildfire up her leg. Caylee was naked except for the t-shirt she’d claimed from my drawer.

  All I could think about was what lay hidden just above the bottom hemline of the shirt. It taunted me—like a siren beckoned ships to the rocky shoreline where they met their doom and destruction.

  I’d burn and crash for this woman.

  I would throw myself in front of her, time and time again, if it meant I died in her arms. She was my version of heaven. She was the light that kept my darkness at bay.

  Once again, I was reduced to the lovesick fool I knew I was.

  “Almost finished,” she murmured, peering over the top of her screen. I could see it in her eyes—desire and distraction. There was only one way to respond as I slipped my fingers up past her knee to her thigh, stopping just before the bottom of my shirt.

  Fuck if she didn’t look hot as hell in it.

  There was only one way I loved Caylee more, other than naked, and that was in my clothes. If that made me some kind of Neanderthal cave man, then so be it. It made me hard just thinking about how she smelled like me, my scent branding her.

  Her slight cough caught my attention. Seemed like my state of undress was threatening her concentration . . . or should I say, my state of arousal. While she’d quickly covered up after we’d finished, apologizing for having to respond to an urgent email that she’d received a notification for, I hadn’t.

  I wasn’t done with her for the night. Once she’d sent off her response, I had every intention of devouring her again. She made me ravenous—a slave to the chemistry between us.

  “Good, because I just had a thought.” Each word was punctuated with another kiss. At this rate, there wouldn’t be a spot on her body that I hadn’t worshipped . . . revered.

  “You did?” Her eyes widened as she reacted to my finger teasing the skin just under the shirt—so close to the place where I planned on burying myself for the rest of the evening.

  “Yep,” I answered, keeping my reply short. My hand moved a fraction higher. Caylee’s breath hitched, her leg now trembling as she stopped typing momentarily.

  I know I should’ve felt guilty for playing dirty—keeping my hands and mouth to myself so she could focus—but I was no saint. With her spread out over my bed, she was lucky I hadn’t shoved her computer away, forcing her to give me her undivided attention.

  Because I was a demanding fucker—unable to entertain myself while she took care of schoolwork.

  “Cooper,” she exhaled quickly, her breath a little more ragged than before. I couldn’t help but smile. “Just a few more minutes.”

  “Okay,” I whispered, my tongue darting out to taste the spot just above her knee. Then because I could, I nipped at the soft skin gently, all while moving my fingers ever so slightly, in a circular motion. When her legs parted a fraction in response, I chuckled out loud.

  Cooper – 1

  Email – 0

  Again, I felt no guilt. In fact, I deserved a medal for the restraint I was showing.

  “You’re not helping.” Caylee’s voice cracked with need. Stilling my hand, I glanced up at her, and sure enough, she was no longer looking at her screen. No, she was staring back at me—her gaze darting between my face and where my hand was. For a moment, whether imagined or not, I swore I could hear her thoughts . . . her desperate plea for me to stop with the teasing and take what we both wanted. My own fingers shook, not from nerves, but from impatience.

  I wanted what lay at the apex her thighs, that sweet spot that dominated every thought, every breath I took. As if in agreement, my cock twitched and my hand moved higher yet again.

  So close.

  And like a fragile thread stretched beyond its ability to withstand, my own patience snapped. I’d tried being the supportive boyfriend, willing to watch her quietly while she responded to whoever sent her the message. I tried to show I didn’t just think with my dick and could keep myself in check—able to control my libido for the brief amount of time she’d asked for.

  But I wasn’t a miracle worker.

  “You’ve got three seconds to hit send, sweetheart,” I warned, my command husky. “One.”

  “Just a few more . . .”

  I unashamedly interrupted, not letting her finish. “Two.”

  That sent her into a flurry of typing. “Cooper!”

  “Three.” And with a roar of satisfaction, I closed her laptop.

  “But . . .” she stammered, her gaze flitting back and forth between me and her computer, which I’d deftly moved to beside the bed on the floor. “How do you know I was done?”

  She was cute when she pouted. “Were you?”

  And there was the mischievous twinkle in her eye I’d come to love. “What if I wasn’t?” she pressed, again.

  Two could play this game, my eyebrows arched as I fired back. “Were you?” I repeated.

  Her gaze dropped to where my hand still lay, under the bottom of my shirt, motionless for the moment. “May—be.” Caylee drew out her reply, a sexy grin beginning to curl the edges of her lips.

  The things her mouth could do . . . the insanity that threatened to push me completely over the edge as I imagined her wrapped seductively around my cock. Or when she held it in one hand, lightly blowing over the head, the licking over her lips in anticipation as she bent forward.

  “Caylee,” I uttered, so incredibly turned on that thinking was becoming more and more difficult. That last image of her kneeling before me, her head bobbing up and down had broken any chivalrous attempt to play the patient boyfriend.

  I needed to be inside her now.

  “Cooper,” she exhaled, squirming a little under my heated stare. Hell, she was setting me on fire with her own—each second it scolded me, blazing my insides into an uncontrollable inferno.

  She was unlike any woman I’d ever been with.

  She tore me down and rebuilt me all with one smile . . .
one touch . . . one fucking anything.

  It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, knowing she held such power over me. In the past, this was enough to send me running for the hills. Now, all I wanted was to sit at Caylee’s feet and worship her.

  She’d shown me what love could feel like.

  She’d taught me it wasn’t something to fear.

  “Take the shirt off before I rip it from you,” I growled, not caring how demanding I sounded. I was done thinking and waiting. There was only so much I could take before it drove me crazy.

  “So impatient,” she purred, sitting forward so she could slowly pull the top over her head. The sight of her perfect breasts exposed made me mouth instantly dry.

  Fuck. With one move, I was being rendered no better than a prepubescent boy getting his first glimpse at porn.

  “Caylee,” I choked, unable to find the words. All I could do was stare, repeating her name over and over again like it was a prayer. With trembling fingers, all confidence and bravado evaporating, my thoughts went from the lustful raging beast that had chomped at the bit to take her to one of reverence.

  She was so damned beautiful—flawless—and for some bizarre reason she was mine.

  “Cooper,” she responded, tenderly caressing my jaw, her thumb grazing over my cheek. “Breathe.” Her chuckle brushed over me.

  As she scooted forward so she could lie back on the bed, it seemed shameful—a sin—to then cover her with my own body. But I couldn’t help myself. Licking my lips, I was lucky I didn’t blow my load right there and then. Just the sight of her was enough.

  “Have I told you how incredible you are?” I murmured, slowly lowering myself over her, resting on my elbows so I could peer into her eyes. This was something else that unraveled the jagged pieces inside—the parts of me ravaged from my past.

  Each time I braved catching her glance, I found a world of emotion staring back at me—trust, love, appreciation, and desire. One day I’d confess just how much it meant—how much I needed it.

  Caylee smiled. “You have, but I never get tired of hearing it.”

  Feathering kisses over her eyelids, I struggled to rein in my desire to pound into her. There was a time and place for that kind of roughness. With how I felt right now, the twist of longing and something I couldn’t quite describe, I wanted more.

  Her response made me laugh, a sound that still seemed weird whenever I heard it. Fuck, I must be a miserable bastard all the time if the noise surprised me.

  “I was trying to decide how we were going to continue celebrating you being a brilliant genius winning that scholarship. Watching you all studious and typing, I was determined to take you hard and fast.” I rocked my body slowly against hers, my eyes closing briefly at the sensation.

  Damn, it felt so good.

  “But?” Caylee’s fingers grazed across my hips, and it was my turn to groan.

  “Something can be said for being patient, though . . . of not rushing things.” Reaching between us, I wasted no time in joining our bodies, both of us gasping as I filled her. “Like this.”

  For a second, it was everything I could do not to move as a shiver coursed through me—each and every nerve ending screaming awake. If this was how it felt for me, I wondered how it was for her.

  Like fucking heaven, I mouthed silently.

  She’d understood. “Like heaven, Cooper. This feels like heaven.”

  Crushing my lips to hers, my tongue matched the penetrating thrust of our hips as we crashed against each other. I caught her moan with my mouth, savoring the way it tasted.

  That was one thing I learned from Caylee—that words had a certain kind of flavor that left you craving for more. Or maybe it was simply her . . . I didn’t care. I would always take whatever she offered.

  When it came time to move again, I knew I was already lost in the moment. Over and over, with each stroke—either our tongues, my cock, or both—it became difficult to focus on anything but her and the climax building between us.

  I watched her—studied her face between kisses.

  I listened to her—reveling in each sigh, moan, and Cooper she uttered as she started losing control.

  My fucking name on her lips . . . I would never tire of hearing it.

  Caylee’s nails dug into my skin as she clung to me, totally unaware she was doing it. And like the greedy bastard I was, I loved it, picking up pace so she tightened her grip harder.

  Scratch marks didn’t bother me.

  Knowing I’d made her lose her mind so completely that she forgot where she was, desperately needing more of the sensations building and pulsing through her, was all the enticement I needed.

  I’d wear those scars and marks with honor.

  “Cooper,” she moaned louder, her voice raspy and sexy as hell. “Please . . . oh my god . . . please. Don’t—” I chose that moment to let go of my wanting to take my time and gave in to the overwhelming urge to pound away until we both forgot our names. “Stop.”

  “Look at me,” I commanded, feeling my own climax rising to the surface. With her gaze locked with mine, I slipped my hand between us, and found her clit. The second I applied the slightest of pressure, she bucked against me, her eyes momentarily closing as her head thrashed from side to side.

  “Oooooh, Cooper!” She was focused back on me, her eyes glazed with an overload of need. All I knew was she was looking to me to push her over the ledge. She was right there—I could see it, feel it in the way she now trembled and strained, holding me even tighter.

  “Let go, sweetheart,” I urged, not once relenting in tempo. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. It was all or nothing. Swirling the tip of my finger, thrusting hard, I knew the second it hit—her body clenching up before she came undone beneath me.

  I didn’t stop.

  Staring down at her, my gaze darting over her features as if to memorize every nuance, it didn’t take long before I followed her, grunting as I came inside her, finding my own release.

  If this was all I ever did for the rest of my life, I would die happy.

  Dropping down, unable to keep most of my weight off her, she didn’t complain. Instead she hooked her leg over my mine, one arm wrapped around my neck as her fingers brushed lightly through the hair at the back of my head.

  “Well,” she muttered, still a little breathless.

  “Well,” I chuckled, feeling the same way. My heart thundered within my chest, racing as it struggled to find its normal rhythm.

  “That was . . .” Caylee paused, trying to find the appropriate word.

  “Amazing,” I blurted out, lifting enough so I could see her face again. Resting my forehead against hers, I mumbled a quick apology for cussing. Just because I had the mouth of a Marine, didn’t mean I had to repeatedly expose her to it.

  Treat her like a lady, son, my mom had counseled over and over growing up. Some things stuck—this was one of them.

  “Hey, you were right.” Caylee’s mouth puckered and I kissed her lips. “That was fucking amazing.” She giggled softly, faintly.

  I swear she surprised me like no other person.

  Chuckling at how cute she sounded dropping the f-bomb, the movement sent heat straight into my groin, my cock hardening.

  She must’ve felt it because the satiated look Caylee had just been wearing melted away—leaving behind a look that could’ve blistered me had it been actual flames.

  She was as insatiable as I was.

  Another thing I loved about her.

  “I love you.” The admission slipped freely from me. I was done feeling guilty every time I thought and said it.

  Caylee peered up at me, a dreamy expression making her eyelids heavy. “I love you, too.” In one long caress, she trailed her fingernail up and down the side of my body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “I’d love you more if we can do that again, though.” She had the audacity to wink at me—like she was challenging me to a dual. “Just saying.”

  “Well, considering I have a hard
time saying no to you . . .”

  There was no need to finish my sentence. Instead I let my body do the talking—for the rest of the night.

  It was like I said before . . . I was a slave to her.

  Whether I admitted it out loud was another thing, but for right now, I loved every damn second of it.

  Chapter Ten

  Caylee

  “Uh, Caylee?”

  Rebecca’s voice came to me as though through a tunnel—distant and faint—and for a moment, I almost didn’t catch her calling my name.

  Sure enough, my roommate was standing there, arms crossed over her chest when I looked up from my textbook. Something told me she’d been trying to get my attention for a while.

  With a sheepish smile, I slid a bookmark to save my page and closed my psychology book. I wasn’t really reading it anyway. My mind was a million miles away.

  “Sorry, I guess the role of space cadet is being played by me today.” I added a soft chuckle at the end, knowing my comment was an understatement. I’d spent the past few hours rereading the same paragraph over and over again. The only part I remembered was the first word . . . the.

  I’d like to say I was busy being whisked away in some fanciful daydream, maybe reliving last night with Cooper—the sequence of images on repeat—but while I was thinking about him, it wasn’t good.

  No, we’d screwed up big time and I’d been agonizing over it every minute since waking this morning.

  “I came in to see if you wanted anything for lunch. I grabbed some groceries earlier and there’s all the fixings for my spectacular Rebecca’s Monster Mouthful in the fridge.”

  Any other occasion and my mouth would’ve watered at the mention of her deliciously decadent turkey, ham, bacon, three kinds of cheese, avocado, salad sandwich with a healthy dollop of mustard, mayonnaise, and BBQ sauce, of all things. There was another ingredient that eluded me . . . sliced apples . . . but the idea of even smelling it made my stomach turn and gurgle in displeasure.

  Nothing appealed right now.

  “But something tells me my gourmet-awesomeness would be wasted on you at the moment.” With a wrinkled brow, her gaze unapologetically studying me, Rebecca wasted no time in crossing the room to come drop beside me on the couch. “Spill. Something’s bothering you.”