“Did you just call me a loser?” he asked, pretending to be insulted.
“Shut up and watch how this is done.”
When they arrived at the giant claw—which held stuffed animals Cole was sure could be purchased from any Walmart for a fraction of what Brooke was probably about to feed this machine—she immediately unzipped her bag and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. Cole watched her as she studied the people in front of her play a few more games before eventually giving up. “So what’s your strategy here?” he asked.
“Not sure yet. But I’m thinking I’m not gonna go for the obvious ones. That’s what the machine wants, but I’m not falling for it.”
Cole laughed, but he did think her theory had some validity to it.
“I also think it’s probably a bad idea to actually go for one right away. Maybe moving one or two around will be better.”
“Right. Focus on the long game, Princess. Show that machine who’s boss.” Standing next to her, he lifted his arms over his head and rested them on the top of the machine as she fed the money into the slot.
She tried unsuccessfully a few times to move a blue dog that was flipped upside down, but the claw kept sliding off the leg before it was able to move it more than an inch or so. Then she moved on to a pink rabbit and was able to take hold of its ear enough to dislodge it from its place between the other animals.
Brooke was singularly focused on the stuffed animals, but Cole was focused on her. The way she’d poke her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated, the way she’d jump up and down slightly when the crane dropped. She was so…appealing to him. As rough around the edges as she could be sometimes, there was a pureness to her enjoyment that made him want to do more things that would make her this happy.
She spent a total of twenty dollars before evidently deciding it wasn’t worth the effort anymore. “Okay, I give up. You’re right. This thing’s rigged,” she said, making Cole smile.
“I’m gonna play one game,” he said. “I hate these things, but I can’t leave without trying.”
“Be my guest,” she said before stepping aside so he could take over.
He slid two dollars into the machine and moved the claw toward the pink bunny. Both times, the claw did the same for him as it’d done for her, leaving him with nothing. “Okay, I’m done. Looks like I’m a loser after all,” he joked, though the truth to his words wasn’t lost on him.
Brooke shrugged. “Guess we’re both losers.” Then a smile overtook her face. “Maybe, in our case, two losers can make a winner.”
Cole returned her smile. “I like the sound of that.”
They looked at one another for a beat, and Cole could feel the chemistry crackling between them. Though neither seemed inclined to break it, finally Brooke did.
“It’s getting late. Want to get outta here?”
“Sure,” he replied.
They walked toward the exit, their arms brushing against each other’s. But before they left, Cole spotted one of those games where each player squirts a water gun at a target. “Let’s do this one before we go,” he said. “It’s more my speed. Plus, if we wait until those kids are done, one of us will definitely win something because we’ll be the only ones playing.”
They waited a few steps behind the two girls who were playing and watched as the small children, who looked no older than seven or eight, tried to find the target with the stream of water. Finally, the older girl won, and she was handed a giant stuffed snake. When she started to complain that she wanted something else, her father tried to console her while still explaining she needed to stop or they’d be leaving.
As he ushered the two girls away from the game, the man froze at the sight of Brooke and Cole, though Cole had no idea why. They weren’t close enough to have startled them, and the family’s eyes stayed fixed on them—or on Brooke rather—without making any attempt to move.
“Can I help you?” Cole asked, infusing his voice with enough assertiveness to hopefully get this guy to snap out of whatever the fuck was his problem.
“Sorry,” the man said with a shake of his head. The older girl looked at Brooke and then up at her father. Her little sister seemed to be oblivious to whatever her sister and dad were staring at. “You look like someone.”
Cole looked to Brooke, who was visibly shaken. Her face had turned almost completely white, and though her mouth was open slightly, no sound was coming out of it. “I’m not,” Brooke finally said.
“I know,” the man replied as he pressed his young girls against his sides. “You’re not… You look like my wife,” he said, shaking his head again like the action might make the image in front of him disappear. “But she passed three years ago.”
Cole inhaled deeply and let his broad shoulders relax a bit. When he looked at Brooke, the color seemed to be returning to her face, though she still seemed out of sorts. “I’m sorry,” Cole said.
The man gave a tight-lipped grin. It was one of those actions that people force to make them seem like they’re okay when they’re anything but. Cole was intimately familiar with that smile. “Cancer,” the man added. “I apologize for staring like that,” he said to Brooke. “I can tell I scared you. But Jesus, you look so much like her. The same features, hair, everything. It’s like looking at a ghost.”
“It’s okay,” Brooke said. “I’m so sorry about your wife.”
“Thank you.” He rubbed his girls’ shoulders as he seemed to realize his daughters were as freaked as Brooke was, if not more. “We should get going. Enjoy the fair,” he said before walking briskly away with his girls.
“That was…intense,” Brooke said once they were a safe distance away.
“Yeah,” Cole answered. Though he couldn’t help but think the only thing weirder than that guy’s reaction to Brooke was her reaction to him.
Stepping out of the shower, Brooke finished drying off and then turned toward the bathroom mirror, bracing her hands against the worn beige vanity as if the fixture’s physical stability might provide her with some emotional support as well. She took a deep breath, letting the steam from her shower invade her nostrils. Finally, she was able to find enough courage to wipe the fog from the mirror so she could see her reflection.
It was the first time in her life she’d ever been anything but a brunette, and she wasn’t sure she liked the change. Though she guessed it didn’t matter. Because what she was pretty sure she’d hate more than her new hair was someone recognizing her. The guy at the fair had spooked her. And it was enough to make her do almost anything to ensure she could travel the rest of the way to…wherever it was she was going without getting discovered.
When they’d left the carnival, Brooke had asked Cole to stop at a drugstore, but she hadn’t told him why. Not that he’d asked. She was sure he probably thought the bag she’d returned with held tampons or something he didn’t care to know about instead of hair dye, scissors, a handheld mirror, and shampoo and conditioner specifically formulated for blondes. She’d figured it would help keep the unnatural color in as long as possible over her dark hair.
She’d left the dye in for twice as long as the box suggested, hoping to make her hair as light as possible with the store-bought product. But it still had darker shades in some spots, though it didn’t exactly look bad. Just…different. And as she lifted the scissors up to her hair, which hadn’t been above her shoulders since second grade, she told herself different was good. It was what she needed. Change was the reason she’d left Philadelphia to begin with. It had occurred to her multiple times on the drive back to the hotel that she had no idea how to cut hair. But she figured if she screwed it up, she could always stop at a cheap salon somewhere to get it touched up. She was all but positive no one would recognize her once her hair was blond and short.
Standing in front of the mirror, she did her best to give herself a textured cut that she hoped resembled Cersei Lannister and not Brigitte Nielsen as whatever her name was in the fourth Rocky movie. Brooke was cons
ervative at first, trimming small pieces here and there, until she grew accustomed to the shorter length. Eventually she ended up with what she felt was the best she could do under the circumstances—some sort of combination between an asymmetrical bob and a long pixie cut. And surprisingly she didn’t think it would look half bad with a little product on the ends.
She pulled gently at her hair, which was so thick it still hadn’t dried completely, even though she didn’t have much left. Once she brushed the hair off herself and cleaned up the bathroom a bit, she put on a white tank top and navy cotton shorts before opening the door cautiously. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous for Cole to see her. She didn’t have to look good. She just had to look like someone other than herself. But not having to have it didn’t mean she didn’t want it. Cole had slipped past her defenses and become important to her, and his opinion mattered. A lot.
She took her time moving far enough into the room that her presence caught Cole’s eye, causing him to avert his gaze from whatever he’d been watching on TV to her. His eyes widened in a way that made her want to run into the bathroom and glue all the discarded strands of hair back on her head. “Does it look that bad?”
“No,” he said with a small shake of his head. His words seemed to catch in his throat after inhaling a sharp breath. “That…good.” He moved to a sitting position on the bed, letting his long legs hang over the side as he squared himself to her. “I’ve never been that into women with short hair, but you may have just changed that.”
His admission made her smile shyly.
“What made you…? Why did you…? I mean, it looks amazing. Really. Really fucking amazing, but—”
“I needed a change.” She ran a hand through what was left of her hair, feeling oddly naked without it.
Cole’s lips lifted into a subtle smile, but it looked more out of desire than happiness. “Change is good,” he said, and the rasp to his voice had all the nerve endings in her body prickling under her skin.
There was a silent moment, but somehow even without the words, Brooke was sure Cole felt the same thing she did. There had been something growing between them that Brooke could without a doubt identify as attraction—both sexual and emotional. Their eyes stayed fixed on the other’s, neither of them willing to initiate what Brooke knew both of them wanted. The air between them seemed to thicken with every passing second, and Brooke was suddenly aware of the crackle, like a fire about to fully ignite. She felt an ache between her legs that was building quickly, so quickly that the sensation was as surprising as it was enjoyable.
She hadn’t been expecting Cole to touch her when he did, but suddenly his hands were on hers, pulling her toward him with one firm movement. He paused for a moment, Brooke guessed, to see if it was okay. Her hand moved through his hair as her silent concession, and when she pulled his face toward her, she knew there was nothing more she wanted than his hands and lips all over her. He kissed her stomach after lifting her shirt up enough to give him access. The feeling had her legs growing limp beneath her. Her pelvis drew toward him while his strong, rough hands rubbed over her legs and under her shorts to her ass, which was flexing with her need for him.
Slowly, his mouth moved lower. He began tugging at the waistband of her shorts as the pressure built inside her. He dragged her shorts and underwear down until they dropped at her feet, and she was able to step out of them.
She didn’t even care she was standing in front of this guy, who was all but a complete stranger, naked from the waist down. Her body overrode the part of her brain that told her this probably wasn’t a good idea. The thought was only a small flicker in her mind, and one that died fast. There was no way she could resist him, resist this. No way she could tell him to stop what he’d started. Not when he’d made her this wet with only a few strokes of his hands over her skin. She needed a release any way she could get it.
Guiding him back a bit, she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. And then she was on him, shamelessly straddling him as she removed her own shirt. She hadn’t put on a bra after her shower, and Cole’s fingers immediately went to her nipples, tugging and pinching to the point just before pain. It was rough and carnal, and she couldn’t imagine anything she wanted more at the moment.
Except for maybe his cock, which she could feel hard against his jeans as she rubbed over him. She was sure she could come from this, would come from this, if she kept grinding against him. And his low groans and sharp breaths told her he could probably do the same. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted it all.
“Please, Cole.”
“Take what you want, Brooke.”
He was giving her control, and she adored him for it. “Do you have any condoms?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Cole said on a short exhale. “Hang on.” He rolled her over and stood to walk toward his bag. A few seconds later, he was back, his hands unbuttoning the worn denim and dragging the zipper down. It was a kind of strip tease she was sure hadn’t been intentional. But God, was it hot.
When his cock sprang free after removing his tight boxers, she inhaled deeply and imagined what it was going to feel like to have it inside her. Like Cole, it was long and solid, and watching him sheath himself with the slick latex did things to her she hadn’t experienced before.
He kissed her deeply again. The connection was raw and consuming, and Brooke couldn’t get enough of it. She wrapped her legs around his hips as she silently begged him to enter her. When he finally pushed inside, the feeling was intoxicating. The fullness had the pressure deep within her building with every drive of his hips.
There was no slow climb toward orgasm, no gradual build toward the release they both needed. Their movements were rushed and wild—warm skin against warm skin, lips nipping hungrily at damp flesh, heavy breaths muffling an occasional curse word. It was a frantic connection between two people who seemed to need exactly that.
There was no warning when Brooke finally felt her climax shoot through her like a tidal wave before it ebbed gently and eventually tapered off completely. So lost in her own afterglow, she was barely aware when Cole found his own release. He pumped into her a few more times as he whispered a soft “Fuck.” And then, “That was intense.”
He hovered above her for a few seconds, bearing most of his weight on his arms, until he pulled out slowly and rolled over next to her. She wasn’t sure why, but she expected him to get up immediately and throw away the condom, but he pulled the sheet up just to his hipbone and let his head flop to the side so he could look at her.
When she allowed her own face to turn toward his, her eyes locked on his green ones as she uttered the only words that came to mind. “It really was.”
It was one of the most honest things she’d said to him since they’d met.
Chapter Seven
Brooke refused to open her eyes even though she could feel the heat of the sunlight warming her face. She was afraid if she let herself wake up all the way, she’d find that the large, warm body spooning against her was a dream. And as much as her life was already a complicated mess without adding a crush on a virtual stranger into the mix, there was something about Cole that made her want to burrow into him and stay there. So she did. Shifting herself back a little, she pressed her back more firmly into his chest, causing his arm to tighten around her.
He pulled her even closer, which made his morning erection push into the back of her thigh. She squirmed lower on the bed so it pressed against the meat of her ass, and then she rocked backward.
A soft moan escaped Cole as his hand drifted down to her hip. “You’re trouble,” he murmured.
The poor guy had no idea. “I thought you’d like this kind of trouble.”
He gyrated against her slowly. “I do.”
They’d never gotten dressed from the previous night, so all it took was Cole grabbing a condom off the bedside table, lifting her leg slightly, and pushing his sheathed and throbbing length into her.
“Jesus,�
� she moaned. Her fingers clutched the pillow as the euphoric feeling of being fucked by Cole’s long, thick cock spread throughout her body.
“Name’s Cole, but I am fond of nicknames,” he whispered in her ear.
She could feel his smile against her neck, which made her own lips tilt up for a second before a moan wiped it away.
Cole’s fingers dipped down to her clit and stroked her with soft, repetitive swirls that were driving her crazy with lust. It was enough to make her buck with ecstasy but not enough to make her orgasm.
“Cole, please… I need—”
“I know. I’ll get you there.”
“Get me there faster.”
The bastard chuckled. “No.”
But his thrusts did pick up speed, though the movement of his finger never changed. She tried grinding against him to increase the contact, but Cole’s strong hand was able to hold her thigh in place against him while his finger kept up its ministrations.
“You seem a little desperate, Princess.”
“Shut up and fuck me like you mean it.”
He nipped her earlobe, the hint of pain ratcheting up her pleasure even higher. “Such language,” he scolded. But he complied as he thrust into her with fast, deep strokes. He rubbed her clit with quicker, firmer movements, and she felt herself slowly falling apart under his attention.
Her release slammed into her hard, the waves of her orgasm flowing through her core and making their way through every inch of her body. He continued fucking her through it, driving in forcefully like no matter how deep he got, it would never be far enough. It drew her pleasure out as her body convulsed. She felt like a towel being wrung dry. Every time she thought she had nothing left to give, a little more pleasure poured out of her.
Cole pushed into her one final time, a guttural groan leaving him as he quivered with his own release. He let his forehead rest against the back of her hair as they both regained their breaths. After a few moments, he pulled out and got up to dispose of the condom. He returned quickly and slid back into bed behind her, pulling her closer. She loved how it felt being wrapped in his arms. Part of her thought she could become addicted to it if she wasn’t careful. A bigger part didn’t want to be careful. Because she wasn’t just wrapped up in Cole physically. The things she was starting to feel for him went much deeper than that. But not knowing exactly how he felt kept her from expressing any of that out loud.
Misadventures with a Country Boy Page 7
