“Quinn,” I shout as I come with her. Pressing in as far as I can, I release deep inside of her, wondering what it’d be like to be a father.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Wow, Cooke.” I smile down at him from my perch above him.
“Brilliant,” he says, still touching me, his palms exploring my skin.
It makes my breasts peek again. I’m not ready to do that again just yet, so I push myself up and feel us disconnect. I’m okay with that, because I’m a little sore down there. Lifting my leg back over him, I scoot off the bed and make my way into the bathroom. I know there’s probably blood. I’d heard it was possible. When I get inside, I shut the door and find a cloth. I’m moist and sticky, so I clean myself up.
I feel warm hands slide around my waist until he’s holding me. “You okay, beautiful?”
I look up and see us both in the mirror. “Yeah. You?”
“I’ve never been happier in my life.”
“Really?” I smile brightly at his reflection.
“Really.”
Turning in his arms, I wrap my arms around his neck, push myself up on my tiptoes, and kiss him. Not a sexy kiss, just a soft one. “I love you, Cooke.”
“I love you more, Quinn.”
“Impossible.”
Cooke slaps my ass and kisses me quick. “Let’s get to bed. I’m wiped out.”
“Me too.” I’d like to say I’m ready to do it again, but I’m not. My lady-land feels out of sorts. But I liked it. I liked it a lot. And that’s probably because it was with Cooke. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. I let my imagination go for a second, thinking of Bryant and me. It could never be him. Or anyone else for that matter. Nope, Cooke is the only one.
Sliding beneath the sheets, still nude, I scoot closer to him, placing my palm on his chest. I feel his warm hand cover mine and squeeze; then, with a sigh, he says, “I’ve never been happier in my life, love.”
“Same here.” And I mean it. Before I met Cooke, my life was uneventful. It was me constantly trying to figure out life. Falling for the wrong guys, clinging to a fantasy rather than reality. I laugh to myself, because if I could tell the Quinn from six months ago that real life was so much better than fantasy, she probably wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true.
I feel Cooke’s arm wrap around me to pull me closer, so I go. Why wouldn’t I? Hell, I’ll go anywhere this man wants to take me.
“Love?” Cooke’s voice sounds unsure, tentative.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want children?”
I press my arm down against the bed and push myself up to sitting. “Now?”
“No. Not yet. Someday?”
“Yes. I’d like one or two. Do you?”
“I do. With you.”
“Oh.” My voice cracks. “Cooke.” I sniffle. “I want them with you too. I can picture some mini Cookes out there on the pitch.” I settle back down and curl up against him as he wraps his arm around me, pulling me even closer.
He sighs contentedly. “I hope they look like you. Stunning. With dark hair and azure blue eyes.”
Damn. I meant to look that up. “There isn’t anything better than hearing that the person you love wants you to have their children.”
“Same, love. I feel the same.”
Epilogue
