How had anyone never told her how fucking beautiful she was? She was goddamned perfect and lovely and all his. When she took him fully in his mouth, he she was his. Just his. Didn’t feel the need to pretend that he wouldn’t want her forever when she left him in the junk pile. He wouldn’t crawl out like he had with his ex; he would never recover. He’d lie down and rust there.
His hand was still in her hair when he felt the tip of his cock touch the back of her throat. Instead of drawing back, she opened more.
“Ah, fuck, darlin’. That’s so good.”
He could see a tear leak out the side of one eye. This was why she was the best lover he had ever had. She was generous and so open with him when they were together. So much more than he’d thought she was that first night. He murmured soft words about how beautiful she was and how sexy her mouth was as he wiped the damp tears from under her eyes.
She took him to the back of her throat again and again, hollowing her cheeks and sucking his entire length. This woman burned through his control with her generosity. Like everything she did, she worked hard at pleasing him. He was sure that she had studied some sort of a magazine article somewhere. Sexy little blowjob student.
Thank goodness for magazines. She pressed two fingers against the spot behind his balls. Without warning, he lost it and came down her throat, which spasmed to swallow every drop.
She slowly withdrew his softening dick from her mouth and grinned, her normally petal-pink lips swollen and red. She looked unbelievably lush and well used, faint marks from her earlier lovemaking on her feminine wrists.
She lay down next to him and they fell asleep until just before sunset. When they woke up, they wordlessly watched the sun drop beneath the ocean as he stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers.
He could die like this. The woman he held in his arms was way too good for him, but he’d do whatever he had to do to keep her.
Chapter 13
“Where are we going?” she asked. Cole could feel her eyes burning a hole through the side of his head. He’d convinced her to abandon the work emails and messages piling up and have some fun with him. It would have been a fight, but he’d gotten her to agree when he’d spanked her soundly. Turns out, she liked his hand well enough that he probably wouldn’t have to go find a flogger for a while.
“You’ll see.” Cole smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”
“We could have had fun at the condo.” Alana snorted. “We wouldn’t have even had to get out of bed. Or we could have gone to the beach.”
Cole didn’t reply. He continued driving the route he’d memorized before Alana woke up that morning. His pants tightened thinking about the kind of fun they could have had if they’d stayed in bed. But that kind of fun wasn’t going to convince her that he was a good bet for more than an affair. Hell, it wasn’t going to convince himself that they might be ready for the long-haul.
Or maybe he wanted to see if she’d shy away from him after she saw that he was a trained killer, honorable discharge and a fancy degree or not. Maybe he wanted to burst her bubble so it wouldn’t hurt when he drove out of town in a few days. Either way, he would put it all on the table and she could see who he was. The decision about whether she could be with a man like him would belong to her.
If he was going to do that, he was going to have to stop thinking about her thighs wrapped around his waist as he rode her to orgasm after orgasm every minute of every day. He would have to stop remembering the sounds she made as she came apart and how tightly she clamped down on his dick when she milked him dry with her pleasure. He shifted in his seat.
He could see her self-satisfied smile out of the corner of his eye. Luckily, he pulled up to the gun range before his thoughts ran too far away from him. Shooting at shit, even if it was just target practice, was going to make him feel a whole lot better
Alana didn’t wait for him to open her door before she jumped out of the truck. She sauntered into the drab, one-story brick building, her tight jeans constricting her movement and making the sway of her hips more pronounced than usual. Her heart-shaped ass was going to be the death of him. He groaned and followed her into the building.
He pulled his gun case out from behind the seat. He’d brought her a 226, the same gun that he’d used as a service weapon. But it was light enough for her to use, and the recoil wouldn’t be too harsh.
She waited in the lobby as he got protective gear and ammo from the proprietor. She seemed pretty nonchalant for someone who was totally unfamiliar with guns.
When they got in their stall, he pulled out the gun that he was going to give her. His woman would always know how to protect herself.
“This is a SIG Sauer P226, 9mm.” He offered her the unloaded gun. “It’s light and accurate. It should be easy enough for you to learn to use.”
Alana put on the headphones and goggles and took the gun from him, pulling the slide to check that the inside of the gun was cleaned. She grabbed the fifteen-round magazine and loaded the gun as if she’d been doing it for years.
Keeping her finger off the trigger, she pointed the gun at the target. Without looking at him, she said, “Aren’t you going to correct my stance? I was hoping that it would need work.”
He smirked. “Your stance looks just fine to me, darlin’. Show me what you’ve got.”
She cocked the hammer, took a deep breath, and shot five rounds. Two were head shots, one to the chest and three to the poor target’s groin.
“What’d that guy ever do to you?”
“He underestimated me,” she said with a smirk.
Cole laughed. “Seriously, where did you learn to shoot?”
“My grandpa—my mom’s dad—was Boston PD for thirty years. The only time we spent together was at the range. At first, I wasn’t all that into it outside of getting to spend time with him. But then I got good and I saw how proud it made him.”
Cole realized then that Alana wasn’t the serious workaholic that she tried to present to the world. She was still the little girl who wanted to please her granddad, who wanted to please her whole family. His chest tightened thinking about her as a kid, but he shook it off. That would just lead him to think about how beautiful a daughter with her eyes would be. More dangerous thoughts about a future that wasn’t certain.
“Hats off to your granddaddy, then.” Cole leaned in so that his mouth was close to her ear. “But watching you shoot that gun makes me more hot than proud.”
Alana laughed. “That’s nothing new. Everything makes you hot.” She looked at him, and her gaze went molten behind the stupid-looking goggles. All of a sudden, the air-conditioned range seemed to heat up twenty degrees, and the air was thick with the tension between them.
“Only when it’s you, darlin’.”
“We are seriously going to have to work on your idea of a romantic date.”
Her tone was teasing, but Cole’s stomach clenched at the reminder that what he could offer her would never be what she wanted. How had he thought that going to shoot guns would convince her that he was the right guy for her? Or make her realize that he was a gun-toting brute?
Only one thing would cure the sinking feeling that he didn’t have control over how this thing with her turned out. Shooting shit.
* * * *
Cole had been silent since they got back in the car. After the flirtatious banter at the range, and she’d shut him down, he’d unloaded his own clip in the target’s head. That was hot. But the way he’d looked at her after made her think he’d been trying to freak her out by taking her to the gun range. She knew that he’d served in the military. While she wasn’t a particular fan of guns, the way he commanded his firearm did it for her in a major way.
But now, his silence was starting to make her nervous. She needed to know what he was thinking.
“Are you mad at me?”
He looked at her and opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His gaze was ha
rd, and she prepared herself for him to break things off. He’d teased her about her marksmanship, but maybe it freaked him out. Maybe he was afraid that she was going to be mad at him one day and unload a clip into his groin instead of a paper target
This wasn’t even supposed to be dating. This was just sex, dammit.
But she knew she’d been fooling herself when she agreed to just sex with someone like Cole. He was way too . . . compelling for that. She was addicted to him. Withdrawals were going to suck.
Just when she was ready to jump out of the car, he spoke. “I don’t want to end this.”
“For how long?”
He reached for her and smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “For however long we both want this.”
He pulled away, and she said, “But you’re leaving in a few days.”
“Maybe I don’t have to leave.”
“What do you mean? What would you do?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll figure something out.”
She touched his mouth with her index finger. He could probably taste the gunpowder on her hand. She wanted him to keep talking about staying, but she was afraid that this wouldn’t stay perfect if he was around all the time. He was her vacation, and holidays weren’t meant to last forever, were they? Just because they had great sex, it didn’t mean that they could have a great relationship. He might become just another bossy, overbearing man in her life who thought he knew what was best for her.
He didn’t say anything. He just met her eyes and lingered there. She let her eyelids flutter closed, and waited for him to kiss her again. This was perfect and it didn’t need any big talks or explanations. Just them.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Alana moaned and he deepened the kiss. She didn’t know how it happened, but the next thing she knew she was flat on her back on the bench seat. Cole’s heavy frame was resting between her legs. She rubbed her center up against his hard length and ran her fingers through his hair as he devoured her mouth. He nipped and sucked at her lips and tongue.
She was so strung out on this man. Spending every minute with him was scrambling her brains. All she could think about was the next time he’d get inside of her. She was so far gone that she forgot that anyone could drive or walk past and see them. And she didn’t even care.
Cole broke the kiss. “You’re mine.” Alana tried to pull his face back down to hers. He just stared at her. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.” It felt right to say; the certainty of it settled in her chest. He rested his forehead against hers, and they breathed in unison, losing track of time. The air conditioning filled the truck’s cab with cool air, but she smelled the scent of her own arousal filling the small space.
“I have ideas that won’t fit in this truck.” He smiled against her mouth.
“Then take me home.”
Cole made record time getting back up to the condo. Once the door was locked, Cole pushed Alana against it and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.
His mouth moved over hers aggressively. His entire body pushed against hers. She knew it would leave her skin red, but she loved the brush of his beard against her cheeks.
His aggression fed hers, and she grabbed his butt and squeezed. She loved his ass. She wondered what Navy SEALs did that gave them such round buns.
She was caught up in grinding against him, and she cursed in frustration when his phone vibrated against her thigh. She dropped her legs from around Cole.
“You’d better pick up.”
He growled against her throat. “I’ll kill whoever’s on the phone right now.” He pulled it out of his pocket. “You better be on fire, Javier.”
Chapter 14
Cole hated this crowd. He hated the EDM blaring through the speakers. He even hated the women who kept looking at him over their vodka sodas while sucking on their straws suggestively.
If he were back at the condo, he would have already tied Alana up and fucked her once tonight. He would be waking her up from a short nap by running his fingertips over her back. If she didn’t wake up, he’d sink his teeth into the fleshy part of one of her ass cheeks.
She’d jump and maybe try to slap his hands away, which would give him an excuse to pin her wrists above her head while he fucked her again.
He downed his bourbon in one swallow. Thank goodness Javi got a VIP table; he’d lose his shit if he had to wade through wall-to-wall bodies for more hooch. The alcohol was the only thing keeping him from telling his friend that his models and strippers routine wasn’t cute for a man his age. It was sad. Who knew you could turn into a geezer by having wild sex with a hot woman—no, the hottest woman?
A week ago, he might not have been annoyed to be out in a crowded club. Hell, he might have been indulging in Javi’s sloppy seconds. Because he didn’t have anything better to do. Now that he had Alana other women didn’t exist for him.
Cole stood up from the couch that had God-knows-what kind of bodily fluids smeared on it and looked over the balcony. They were in an alcove that overlooked a giant dance floor. The club had been an old theater from the looks of it. A crowd of bodies crashed against one another, drunk and primitive. The smell of stale sweat wafted up and assaulted him.
It made him miss Alana’s fresh sweat and the smell of them together. He poured another bourbon. It was going to be a long night because Javi was currently holding court with two lanky blondes, a Brazilian model he recognized from the SI Swimsuit Issue, and their friends.
“Cole, what are you doing? I can’t entertain all of these beautiful women by myself.” Javier yelled over the din of the music. When had his friend turned into that guy?
He wanted to go to the bathroom and not come back. That probably wouldn’t work; he would probably text him once he was gone too long, and he didn’t have a good excuse to leave. For all his friend knew, he was staying alone in a hotel room on him and lazing around by the pool drinking all day while he was in town.
Over dinner, it had been a fight for Cole not to tell Javi that he and Alana were together. But he’d promised her he wouldn’t say anything, and he wasn’t sure what they were. Was he her boyfriend? He hadn’t been anyone’s boyfriend since Beth; he’d sworn to never be foolish enough to become someone’s boyfriend again.
The problem was that he wanted to be more than a fling. He wanted to be the man she relied on when she let go of that prickly exterior. He wanted to be the guy that checked her tires for air and stepped on her toes when they went dancing. He wanted to be with her right now.
Ready to tell Javi that he had a headache or some shit, Cole stopped short when a drunk girl wandered past him. She looked like she was tipsy enough that she could get in real trouble in this club by herself.
“Excuse me, miss?” He didn’t touch her because he didn’t want to spook her.
She turned her whole body towards him at once; her arms flopped against her torso. “Isss Missy, mister . . .”
She smiled at him like she thought he was trying to pick her up, and she didn’t dislike the idea. Oh shit. This was an iffy situation. Sort of like defusing a bomb underwater. How was he going to get this girl in a cab without making it look like he was taking her home to—be a really bad guy?
He looked over at Javi, who had culled his herd of models to two. “I’m going to make sure she gets in a cab okay.”
“Sure you are. Have fun. Make sure to wrap it up.” Javi winked at him. “When you take the job, we’ll go out like this, every night.” When had his friend become such a douche? This girl was stumbling around on one broken heel with eye makeup dripping off her face. No way she could consent to anything but a trash can on the side of her bed right now. Javier’s sisters needed to have an intervention with him or something. He could facilitate. It would be his first official duty as Alana’s boyfriend.
“C’mon, Missy. I’m going to put you in a cab.” This time, he grabbed her upper arm and led her through the crowd in the
VIP lounge. “Were you with friends?”
He had to get closer than he wanted to, but he needed to make sure that she heard him.
“I’m with ‘friends’ now, misssster.”
“Sure are. Here on vacation?”
“Yesssssss. Is my birthday party.”
And her friends let her get this drunk and wander away? He couldn’t imagine Alana abandoning a drunk friend at her birthday party. How he thought that she was a shallow, frivolous rich girl, he’d never know.
Missy grabbing on to his junk, with little finesse, interrupted his train of thought.
“Ouch.”
She giggled manically in response. He gritted his teeth.
“Where are you staying? We need to get you in a cab. Now.”
“The Del—The Delaney?”
“You mean the Delano. C’mon.” He didn’t bother to tell her that he wasn’t going with her. He’d save that hissy fit for when he didn’t get in the cab with her.
Cole didn’t understand people who went to clubs to hook up with drunk girls. The only explanation was that they were assholes. By the time he got her outside, he was coated with other people’s sweat. Luckily, there was an available cab idling at the entrance.
He opened the door and guided Missy inside. He gave the driver a twenty—way too much for the couple blocks he had to take her—and put his phone number in her phone. “Text me when you get back to your room.”
“’Cause you’re coming to see me?”
“No. I just want to make sure you get back to your room safe.” He turned to the driver over her slurred protest. “The Delano. I’ll know if you do anything shady.”
He tapped on the cab’s roof, and it drove away.
He walked back to the condo, hoping some fresh air would make him feel better about crawling in bed with Alana after hanging out with her asshole brother the whole night.
He felt his phone buzz and saw a message from Javi. “You score, bro?” He didn’t answer. A few seconds later, he got one from Missy, “Hotel. Thanks for sending me home. Want to stroke your arms.” followed by a winky emoticon. He shivered. He never would have been interested in someone that drunk, but he hoped she found some better friends.
Stroke of Midnight Page 12
