Cole: Exactly.
I shouldn’t. I absolutely, one hundred percent should not. And yet ten agonizing minutes later, I’m standing at the bottom of the staircase, pretending to examine a framed photo of the Bristol family in matching pajamas while my pulse beats in my ears.
The house is distracted. Bing Crosby is still crooning over the speaker. I glance over my shoulder. Nobody’s watching. Not even Maddie. I set down my empty mug on the entryway table, glance left, then right, and slip upstairs.
Each step creaks beneath my heels even though I try to remember which ones creaked from childhood. My heartbeat is so loud it feels like someone might hear it over “White Christmas.” I reach the top of the stairs and let out a slow breath. I take two steps down the hallway and my eyes are immediately drawn to his old bedroom. I double-check that nobody iswatching, then close the distance, tiptoeing quickly until I’m right outside his door.
It’s cracked open. I hesitate only for a second before pushing it wider and stepping inside. My breath catches when I see him, like I wasn’t really expecting him to be here. He’s leaning against his dresser, hands shoved in his pockets, sleeves of his sweater rolled up. The lamplight hits him just right, glinting off the faint gold in his hair. His expression isn’t playful like it was across the kitchen. Now, it’s hungry.
“You came,” he says, voice low.
“Technically, I just walked up the stairs.”
His mouth tips in a slow smile. “Smart-ass.” He pushes off the dresser, crossing the room in two long strides. “You really wore that dress knowing you were gonna see me?”
“I didn’t wear it for you.”
He reaches out, dragging the backs of his fingers down my arm, making me shiver. “Bullshit.”
My voice falters. “So? What if I did?”
“I like that.” His hand travels up my arm to my neck. “I like that you think about me.” He watches his fingers as they trace the outline of my jaw. “I think about you… a lot more than I thought I would. A lot more than I probably should.”
My breath catches. “And is that a bad thing?”
“No.” He steps closer, his nose running along my jaw. “It doesn’t feel like it is.”
“Cole—”
He cuts me off with a kiss that’s rough and claiming, tasting of beer and the last few hours of self-restraint he’s been exhibiting. I melt into the kiss, my hands sliding up his chest, my body pressed flush against his.
His hand slides farther up, gripping the back of my neck, the other fisting in the skirt of my dress like he’s seconds from tearing it. The sound I make against his mouth only spurs himon. I can feel his pulse racing against my lips when I press a kiss to his jaw, and he groans like the sound alone could give us away.
“Lock the door,” I whisper.
“No one’s coming up here,” he murmurs before pressing me backward until the back of my knees hit the bed.
“This is insane,” I breathe. “Someone will notice us gone.”
“Yeah,” he says, low and rough. “But you’re already here.”
His mouth finds mine again. There’s no teasing this time, no pause for second thoughts. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing the hem of my dress higher until cool air skims my skin. When his fingers hook into my panties, I stop breathing.
“Cole—” It’s half plea, half warning.
“Shh,” he mutters against my lips. “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”
He sinks to his knees, and the sight of him looking up at me undoes me. He spreads my thighs, taking a second to admire me first, and then his mouth is on me with long, slow, wicked licks. I grab at his shoulders, desperate to keep quiet, but a groan escapes anyway.
He lifts his head just enough to smirk. “You gotta stay quiet, remember?”
“I can’t—” The rest of the words melt into a moan when his tongue slides against me again. My fingers tangle in his hair, the music and laughter from downstairs blurring into white noise. He doesn’t give me any chance to catch my breath. He licks and sucks at me like his life depends on it.
When I come, it’s fast and hard, my body almost convulsing. He rises immediately, catching my face in his hand, kissing me hard, letting me taste exactly what he just did to me. His belt clicks open, and then he’s inside me before I can think, one arm circling my waist, the other covering my mouth as a strangled cry breaks free.
“Easy,” he grits out, his breath rough against my ear. “You’re gonna get us caught.”
My muffled answer vibrates against his palm, my nails digging into his back. Each thrust pushes words out of me that can’t make it past his hand, just muffled sound. When he finally loses control, it’s silent except for his low curse muffled against my skin.
