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Come To My Window (Cumming, Arizona Book 2)

Page 4

by Jessie Logan


  He was about to climb through the fence gap and plaster his tongue against the window when Rosie moved to the bed and flopped backward on it. She wriggled into a more comfortable position on her back and spread her legs, her wet folds splitting open to both his gaze and the mirror’s reflection. Double the pussy—Cooper didn’t know which view was hotter.

  Kind of a moot point when Rosie slid the vibrator against her clit and bucked her hips off the bed, her gorgeous ass flexing as she ground against the silicon shaft. He groaned, his cock begging for release from the confines of his shorts. Jesus—she moved the bulbous purple head down to her cunt and eased it inside. Her body gripped the silicon as it disappeared smoothly inside her until only an inch or so of the vibrator remained in her clenched hand. Rosie’s hips undulated, her tits wobbling as she thrust the slick length into her cunt over and over.

  Cooper had ducked through the fence gap and past the bedroom window before his brain caught up with the fact he was prepared to kick down Rosie’s door to get to her. Fortunately, she’d taken the time to unlock the back door, and he strode inside, stripping off his shirt as he went. He paused in the hallway long enough to toe off his canvas shoes and strip off his shorts and boxers, then he entered Rosie’s room at a run.

  “Took you long enough,” she panted as he climbed onto the bed.

  Her eyes were glassy with lust, and the vibrator lay silent beside her.

  “Did you come without me?” he growled.

  Listen to him, jealous of a fucking silicon dick. But he couldn’t stop himself from possessively adding, “You don’t come without me anymore.”

  She gave him a Mona Lisa smile.

  “I was waiting for you.” She lifted a lazy hand and pointed to her nightstand. “Condoms are in there. Suit up, soldier.”

  Cooper didn’t need to be asked twice. Condom rolled on, he dragged her sweet ass to the end of the mattress and propped a pillow under it to raise the angle of her hips.

  “You want deep, sweetheart?” he said, sliding two fingers through her dripping juices then lightly pinching her swollen clit.

  Rosie whimpered, her knees pulled back close to her tits, leaving her stretched open, fully exposed.

  “Deep,” she agreed on another moan.

  He bent forward, bracing with one hand, guiding his cock into her with the other, her wetness coating his fist. He stroked her clit again as he pushed into her welcoming tightness. This was gonna be deep, all right. Deep and fierce and fucking perfect. He buried his cock in her with one sharp thrust of his hips, his balls slapping heavily against her ass. A moan exploded out of her, and she arched under him.

  “Take more,” he murmured, retreating a little only to slam into her again.

  And again.

  And again, until she reached up to wind her arms around his neck and drag him down for a soul-melting kiss. He downshifted the rhythm then, pumping slower, dragging her pleasure out with long, calculated thrusts. Her cunt walls bore down on him, and he didn’t need to be psychic to know she was close.

  “Come all over my cock, baby.”

  With a whimper, she obeyed, her slickness clenching and releasing with such intensity that she milked his cock until he spilled everything he had deep inside her with a roar.

  7

  Book club the next Friday night was held at Kari’s.

  “She brought the good stuff.” Kari whooped, dragging Rosie inside the house. “Neighbor guy finally rocked your world?” she added in a lower tone.

  Rosie smiled, a little shiver rolling down her spine. Her and neighbor guy had gotten hot and heavy at his place or hers every night for the past week.

  “He’s rocked it about twenty times so far.”

  Christina poked her head around the doorway of Kari’s living room, overhearing Rosie’s words. She rushed into the hallway and hugged Rosie fiercely.

  “You little ho—how many orgasms are you getting every day?”

  Rosie pretended to count on her fingers. “Oh, about three-point-five on average, I guess.”

  “Bitch,” Kari breathed. “I’m dying, here.”

  “Nobody ever died from lack of orgasms,” Christina said. She shot Rosie a mock glare. “But there’s always a first time. Kari and I are terminal.”

  “Speak for yourself, honey.”

  “I don’t see you bringing champagne to book club this week.”

  Rosie’s two friends continued to bicker affectionately as they wandered into Kari’s living room, Christina examining the bottle that Rosie had handed her. The doorbell rang and Rosie offered to let Dana in.

  She opened the door, and Dana’s eyes flew open wide, her face splitting into an ear-to-ear smile.

  “So it’s true! You’ve got that wonderful, just-serviced glow. Hot neighbor guy is great for your complexion.”

  Rosie laughed. No point denying it. Sex with Cooper was better than a weekend at an expensive spa.

  The four of them settled into armchairs and on Kari’s squishy, leather sofa. They toasted Rosie with champagne and then peppered her with questions about Cooper—was he a great kisser? How amazing was he in bed? Was he a giver or a taker? Did she see a future with him?

  That last one gave Rosie pause. It was a question she’d avoided asking herself during the long hours away from Cooper behind the reception desk at the Verde Oasis Hotel. Before she could formulate an evasive reply, Christina leaned forward, her brow creasing.

  “Isn’t Antony getting home next weekend?”

  Rosie’s stomach did a flip-flop, the champagne inside it doing a nauseous, rolling dive. “That’s what the note he left me said.”

  “You haven’t talked to Cooper?” Dana asked gently. “About what his plans are once his brother comes home?”

  “Maybe they could be roomies.” Kari glanced between Dana and Rosie. “Or I could get him a good deal on a house if he’s looking to buy. Or to rent a while.”

  “I don’t know what his plans are,” Rosie said.

  While she and Cooper had spoken of so many other things they had in common—love of thrillers, hatred of reality TV, and the joy of peanut M&Ms being just the tip of the iceberg—neither of them seemed willing to tempt fate by asking for more than they already had.

  “We’re just enjoying each other in the time we have,” she added.

  Dana leaned back in the armchair and folded her arms. Fixed her sternest librarian stare on Rosie. “You like him; I can tell you do. I haven’t seen you this into a guy since you were crushing on Jordan Chambers right through high school.”

  She did like him. Liked him to the point she was pretty sure she more than liked him. But they weren’t hot-and-heavy dating like Dana and Patrick were. They’d never even been on an official date. She was keeping it light and easy with Cooper, even if her growing feelings for him were no longer light and easy.

  Rosie shrugged and took another swallow of champagne. “Jordan Chambers turned out to be only half the man Cooper is. And I do mean literally half, especially below the belt.”

  As she’d hoped, Christina and Kari burst out laughing and started in with the dick comparison jokes. Rosie tried her best to relax into the plush, leather sofa and to ignore the expanding lump in her throat.

  Seven more nights—that was all she and Cooper had left.

  She lifted her chin and pasted on a brave smile. She’d make the most of all those orgasms. Once he left town, her wet-and-wild season would return to its desert status since she couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else for a long, long time.

  Time flies when you’re having fun.

  Yeah, it was a cliché, but it was a cliché for a reason. Rosie could verify the fun aspect. She’d spent every night with Cooper for the past five nights, and they’d passed in a blur of hot sex, hotter sex, and the hottest sex she’d ever experienced. And they only had tonight and tomorrow night left.

  Rosie made the drive from Verde Oasis to home in record time. Past the crowd of customers dining out Parisian style in front of the C
oyote Cafe and the tourists going in and out of the many cute galleries and craft shops along Main Street. Her heart raced with the anticipation of seeing Cooper again. As she pulled into her driveway, she was on a one-track-mind mission. Put on something sexy, lure Cooper into her room to have her wicked way with him, and then gather her courage into one gigantic ball, and ask him if he’d consider staying in Cumming a little longer. Because she didn’t want this whatever-they-had to end.

  Rosie dashed into the house and straight into her bathroom for a quick shower. She multi-tasked by shaving her legs while mentally skimming through what tonight’s outfit would be from the selection of Victoria Secret’s temptations that had arrived in yesterday’s mail. After slathering on body lotion, she opted for simple, something that’d remind Cooper of the first time they’d played peekaboo at her window. Towel-drying her hair, she left the bathroom and headed to her closet. Only when she began to button the sheer white shirt did her gaze flick to her window.

  There was a solid, newly completed fence blocking her view of Antony’s house.

  For an embarrassingly long moment she simply froze, staring at the fence, trying to decipher what the hell it meant. Nothing, she decided, dropping the bath towel into the laundry hamper. It meant nothing except time was running out, and Cooper would’ve wanted to finish what he started.

  There came a loud knocking from her back door, and Rosie’s heart took a leap in that direction. Cooper! She raced down the hallway and flung open the door. Antony stood on her doorstep, partially hidden by a butt-ugly, African mask.

  “Hey, neighbor,” he said, shoving the mask at her. “This is for you. Thanks for cacti sitting, even though you didn’t, and for getting Cooper’s thumb out of his ass to build the—oh…” His gaze flicked down to her standing there in her white shirt and nothing else, and then lurched up again. “Did you misplace something? Like your underwear?”

  Rosie used the mask as a shield to hide her boobs and bikini wax and lifted her chin. “It’s hot. And what are you doing back? You’re not due for another two days.”

  Antony flicked a dismissive hand. “I caught an earlier flight.” His eyes, a paler shade of green than his brother’s, narrowed on her face. “You shouldn’t answer the door like that, sweetie. I could’ve been anyone—some kind of peeping Tom, even.”

  Some kind of peeping Tom such as his brother? Rosie’s stomach flip-flopped. “Noted. Um, so is Cooper still around?”

  His nose scrunched up. “No, he’s gone. So what do you think?”

  A fist of red heat beat against her brain, over and over. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.

  “What do I think?” she rasped.

  I think I liked your brother more than I let on, even to myself. I think it’ll be a long time before I can look at the new fence without crying. I think Cooper Phillips has broken my heart without even trying.

  “About the mask,” Antony said. “Won’t it look perfect in your living room?”

  “Yes, it’ll look great,” she said. “I’ll find a place for it right after I get dressed.”

  Antony smiled, a watered-down version of Cooper’s that set her heart to aching just the same. Now she’d never be able to look at Antony without seeing his brother’s face.

  “And you won’t even have to draw the bedroom drapes now my brother has done such a stellar job on the fence,” he said, and then with a toodle-loo wave, he left.

  Looked as if Cooper wasn’t planning to finish what he started. At least, not with her.

  8

  He didn’t call. He didn’t text.

  She couldn’t get anything out of Antony about his brother other than he was “off getting his shit together.” Rosie was pretty sure Antony suspected Cooper had done more than water cacti and collect mail while housesitting, but Rosie didn’t push the issue.

  Because the issue hurt.

  Cooper had left without saying goodbye, and like hell would she be the first to reach out. He had her number, and he knew where she lived.

  And today was a week to the day she’d come home to a competed fence and a missing…boyfriend? Lover? Six-foot-two sex toy? Whatever. She’d had a crappy day to end all crappy days at work. Tanya had managed to double book a room, and Rosie had to fix the mistake. The front desk’s phones rang nonstop, and a guest had complained about the mattress flaring up her sciatica in a whiny, nasal voice for ten minutes, obviously fishing for a discount.

  Rosie eased out of her car like an eighty-year-old after a bender and made her way inside. Cool air kissed her flushed face as she stepped into the living room. Perfect—she’d forgotten to turn the AC down this morning before she left for work. Add a hiked-up electric bill to her list of woes. She dumped her handbag on the sofa and crossed to the kitchen. Wine o’clock with a side of leftover cheesecake and screw the calories; they didn’t count after such a sucky day.

  Just inside the kitchen, her gaze landed on the kitchen counter nearest the fridge. A single red rose lay there and next to it, a scrap of paper. Rosie’s pulse exploded into a flat-out sprint, adrenalin firing in shuddery spurts as her brain screamed psycho-killer-intruder! One with a rose fetish and—against all logic—she moved farther into the kitchen and read the note, written in a tidy, looping script.

  I’ve taken the cheesecake hostage. If you want to see it again without collateral damage, come into your bedroom. Naked.

  Coop.

  P.S Bring the can of whipped cream chilling in your fridge.

  A head-lightening mixture of temper and arousal flooded her system. On one hand, the nerve of the man to break into her house, steal her dessert, and demand she strip for his pleasure after she’d been going insane for the past week. On the other, Cooper was in her bedroom with dessert and wicked plans for cream-in-a-can. Her eyes narrowed on the hallway and the silence echoing loudly from her room. Was he in there naked? Naked and hard and wanting her as much as she wanted him?

  He wanted to play? Fine. One last time, she’d play.

  After drawing the living room drapes, Rosie slipped out of her work clothes and stood only in the high-cut, lace, French panties she’d worn that day. She caught a glimpse of herself in a glass-framed print hung on her wall and froze. Then she grinned at her reflection and cupped her boobs, giving them a saucy little jiggle. A month ago, she’d been bemoaning the size of her girls; now her nipples tingled in anticipation of Cooper’s touch.

  Cooper was completely into her boobs. And maybe that wasn’t the only thing he was into.

  Rosie grabbed the can of whipped cream and padded down the hallway. Her bedroom door was open, and inside, two masculine feet were spread wide apart on her bed. And tied to the footboard with…her eyes slitted.

  Men’s neckties?

  Floorboards creaked under her feet as she stepped into the room, her gaze skimming up muscular, naked thighs to a fully-erect cock laying thick and heavy on ripped abs, pointing vertically toward Cooper’s crooked smile and his one widely spread arm, which was also tied, this time to her headboard. And definitely with a necktie, a light gray one with charcoal stripes.

  “Are those Antony’s ties?” she asked.

  Which, yeah, was kind of an odd thing to ask when you walked into your bedroom to find a gorgeous, aroused male tied to your bed.

  “Yep.” Cooper lifted a hand off the mattress, and another tie was knotted around his wrist, the plain navy-blue silk trailing along the white sheets. He offered his wrist to her. “I left the last one for you.”

  Rosie set the can of cream down on her nightstand. “Your brother’s going to dismember you for raiding his wardrobe.”

  But playing along, Rosie snatched up the end of the tie and looped it securely around the wooden post of her headboard. The stark outline of his biceps and triceps flexing as she knotted the fabric made her panties damp. She didn’t for one second believe Cooper was helpless and at her mercy—with muscles like his he could shred silk and turn her headboard into matchsticks. But she liked the illusion.
/>   Wrist secured, Rosie perched on the edge of the mattress, one knee bent on it, the other draped over the side. Her breasts swung heavily forward, and Cooper’s gaze locked on them. His abs rippled as he sucked in a breath.

  “He’ll forgive me,” he said.

  “What makes you think I will?”

  Rosie tried to keep her voice as light as the teasing circles she made around her nipples. Her pussy grew damp—damper—as his mouth parted, and his breathing grew choppy.

  “What makes you think I won’t write ‘I’m a big dick face’ on your stomach with this can of cream, take a photo, and post it all over social media?”

  Cooper’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “Maybe because if Principal Jackson from Cumming High sees my junk online, he’ll change his mind about making me his new assistant coach?”

  Rosie’s finger stopped circling. The bottom of her stomach plummeted to the soles of her bare feet. “Say again? This time, pretend I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m the new assistant coach at the high school, the proud new tenant of an apartment on Fourth Street, and with any luck the woman I’m crazy about will forgive me for going AWOL for the time it took me to get my shit together and figure out what I want.”

  Her stomach still continuing to fall, Rosie licked her lips. “What do you want, Coop?”

  He glanced deliberately down the length of his body. “Think that’s pretty obvious. I want you. All of you, anyway I can get you, and for longer than just a few weeks.” His strong jaw angled as he tilted up his chin to meet her gaze. “What do you say?”

  Rosie reached for the cream and sprayed a line of it up the length of Cooper’s cock, ending with a circular flourish at the dusky-pink head. She tossed the can on the bed and crawled between his spread thighs, running her tongue up and over the thickly bunched muscles of one until her lips nuzzled against his balls.

 

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