"Come here," I whispered, beckoning him closer. His dick was inside me and somehow, he was too faraway.
Cole nodded and positioned my legs around his waist. "Oh, fuck," he murmured, his eyes rolling back as he found a rhythm. "I mean it. You're amazing. I'm never bottomingagain."
"That's not an option," I said. I reached for him, first grabbing his flanks, then his shoulders, and finally lashing my arms around his torso when we were chest-to-chest. My lips found his neck, and I breathed a content sigh because I had him. Inside me, around me, everywhere. "I love fucking your ass. You're not taking that away fromme."
"And I loveyou," he started, "so Iwon't."
A laugh burst from my lips, unbidden. He was thrusting into me now, slow and hard, but that pleasure was a distant second to the one seizing myheart.
"You made me wait," I said, smiling up at him. "You walked me home, licked my ass for half-a-fucking-hour, and waited until you were balls deep inside me to say that." I arched up to meet his lips, hoping my kiss would tell him how much he pushed me, and how much I needed those pushes. "I loveyou."
Cole grinned, nodding. "I know," he said, reaching between us to wrap his fingers around my cock. "Would it be cliché of me to come right now? Because I'm damnclose."
I shook my head, the words tangled up in a knot of emotion heavy in my chest. Ilovedthis man, and he…he loved me, too. Those words weren't ones I'd heard before, it wasn't a feeling anyone hadreciprocated.
The fast slide of his hand over my length kept me on the edge but it was the blissful sighs stuttering past his lips as he slammed into me that did it. That pushed me over, broke me apart, and patiently sewed me back togetheragain.
Tonight wasthenight but that didn't mean it was the only night. This could only getbetter.
23
Rogue Wave
n. A large, unexpected and suddenly appearing surfacewavethat can be extremelydangerous.
Owen
It was late September,and I was in Portland for the monthly meeting of the Maine Lobster Conservancy's board of directors. It was true what they said about the squeaky wheels getting the grease, except this squeaky wheel had been nominated for a board seat after complaining about the issues long enough. I still preferred the ocean to the office but it was rewarding to know that I was making some smalldifference.
But this meeting couldn't adjourn quickly enough. Tomorrow marked the eight-week anniversary of Cole's arrival in Talbott's Cove, and we were starting the celebration with a special dinnertonight.
These weeks had been nothing short of magical, and I wasn't the kind of guy who threw words like those around. With Cole, I felt things I'd never before experienced. I wanted things, too. Things I'd never thought available tome.
Love. Family. Forever. And I really wanted it all withhim.
So I was laying it all out there tonight. I was loading him up with the best steaks and wine I could find, and I was telling him that I wanted to make this official. It was time for him to move in, all the way. We could convert one of the extra bedrooms to a proper office. He could get rid of his place in California. Obviously, he could run his business from Maine. He'd managed just fine for almost twomonths.
He'd move in, we'd fix up an office, and we'd have a life together. And maybe…maybe we could plan a trip down to Cape Cod next summer to exchange vows. A visit to P-Town would do himgood.
Thatmaybehad my heart plotting an escape from my chest becausemaybehad to beyes. Had tobe.
Cole was in charge of dessert tonight. I was hoping that consisted of nothing more than a dollop of whipped cream on my fiancé'sdick.
Repairs finished on Cole's boat early last week, but that event came and went with little fanfare. It was an amazing craft—now that it wasn't on the fritz and running aground—and we took it for a sail down to the Isle of Shoals over the weekend. It was a nice break from our usual routine, one we needed. Life was great, but it was busy. The lobster season was hitting its peak, and Cole was spending more time on work projects when we weren't hauling intraps.
Even though it meant a decrease in our time together, I understood that Cole needed to work. That he'd been able to spend the summer working my decks was a gift, one I knew wouldn't last forever. He had a conference call a few days ago, and though I didn't mean to eavesdrop on the entire thing, I found myself addicted to his authoritative tone. It didn't matter what he was saying. I liked in-charge Cole. I wanted more ofhim.
Instead of staying to talk shop after the meeting, I hustled out and headed to downtown Portland. My grocery list was long, and I had exactly seven minutes to find everything I needed and get on the road if we were going to eat before Thursday Night Football kicked off. It was situations like these that made me reconsider Cole's desire to install one of those DVRthings.
He was gentle like that, always nudging me to try new things but never forcing. He didn't care that I hated bourbon or reading books on electronic screens, or that I preferred the butt plug inhisass. I wasn't as gentle. The solitary life I'd once considered adequate was now filled with affection and laughter, but that hadn't beaten the cranky bastard out ofme.
Perhaps that was why I was sighing like a moody teenager and drumming my fingers on the grocery cart while the woman ahead of me handed the cashier a wad of coupons thicker than the Bible. Food, our future, football, fucking. That was the plan for tonight, and Coupon Cathy was screwing up my schedule with herthriftiness.
Craning my neck to find a quicker line, I found myself staring at the last person I expected to find in Portland: Cole. Except it wasn't him, not the ColeIknew. It was a polished-up, slick-haired, fake-smile, suit-and-tie version of him with "Where In The World Is Cole McClish?" printed across hischest.
Why ismy manon the cover of a magazine and why the fuck are people wondering where heis?
I snatched the magazine from the rack and flipped to the article about Cole while I steered my cart to the short order line. I didn't care whether I had many more than ten items. If the cashier noticed, she didn't care either. Maybe I was the one who didn't notice as the only thought in my head was an infinite loop ofI thought I knew himwhile Iread.
