“I feel the same about you,” Cooke says as he lifts the sheet and blanket for me to slide under.
I feel the cool sheets hit my bare legs and sigh. Once my body is beneath the covers, he releases them, resting his hand on my belly, over the blankets. I look back at him, and it hits me.Holy shit. I’m in bed with Cooke Thompson.I’m literallyin bedwith Cooke Thompson. It’s too bad I’m stiff as a board. I’ve pulled the bedding up to my chin, but I haven’t moved. He slides closer to me urging me back. I scoot over and end up being spooned. Holy shit, I’m spooning with Cooke Thompson. That’s what I said, s-p-o-o-n-i-n-g.
With his mouth right next to my ear, he whispers, “Love?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing is going to happen tonight. I just want to hold you. Please relax. I don’t like that you seem afraid of me.”
I quickly turn my head. “I’m not afraid of you.” Should I be? Maneuvering so I’m facing him, I place my hand on his face. “Cooke. I’m a virgin.”
He blinks a few times, then smiles.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I mean, I just confessed something to this man—a secret that only Tayler knew about.
“Good” is all he says right before he kisses me. It’s not like the one before. No, this one is soft and lingering and sweet. Sure, there’s tongue, but it’s not frantic; it’s fluid and exploratory. I do my best to mimic his movements. I must be doing something right, because he lets out a deep moan from somewhere in his chest. I feel his hand slide down my back to rest on my butt. He squeezes one of my ass cheeks, then pulls me in to him.
“Sleep, love. Let me hold you.”
Easy for him to say. I’m pressed up against the hottest man on Earth. Everything about him is delicious, starting with his musky, earthy scent and his warm skin. Even his calloused hands and fingers feel good to me. That’s not even hitting on his physical appearance, because I’m starting to think that what makes Cooke Thompson beautiful isn’t his face. It’s his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“When are you finished with your courses today, love?”
“Noon.” I have class after that, but I’ve decided to skip since I only have one more day with him. On second thought… “Actually, make that eleven.”
“You sure?” He comes up behind me and wraps his big arms around me. I’m about to say fuck it and skip everything, but I’m pretty sure I’ll miss a pop quiz if I don’t show up to art history.
“I’m sure. Where would you like to meet?”
“At that Hub place. You can give me a tour of campus, and then we’ll get a bite.”
I turn in his arms so I’m facing him. Why does this feel so natural, like we’ve been doing it forever? I don’t have one ounce of self-consciousness or shyness with him. It’s bizarre. “You’ve got this all planned out, don’t you?”
“Aye.” He leans down to kiss me softly. “One thing you should know about me, Quinn. I don’t do anything without a plan.”
“Hm, I’m not sure how I feel about that. Spontaneity is the spice of life.” Or something like that.
With a smirk, he does two things. First, he says, “Oh, I’m spontaneous.” Second, he bends slightly placing his hands right below my butt and lifting me up in the air. I squeal as he turns and tosses me back onto the bed. Then, before I know it, he’s there above me, his big body between my legs. “How’s that for spicing up life?”
“You can’t be lifting me, Cooke. You’ll hurt yourself. Then what will happen to your team?” I mean seriously. He could throw his back out.
“Please stop saying shite like that, love.” Then he kisses me. Not like the one a minute ago. No, this one sort of picks up where we left off last night. He brushes his tongue across my lower lip, and I smile against his mouth, opening mine enough for him to sweep his in. I open farther and moan at our kiss. Running my fingers through his hair, I arch to get closer to his body. I want his hands on me, all over me, and the thought scares me a little.
Sadly, he pulls away. “I’ve got to get you home.”
“I know,” I mumble in a whiny voice.
“Eleven. And I’ve got a surprise for you as well.”
“Oh?” I love surprises. “Okay.” I smile brightly. “Don’t forget, I need to go to the police station too.”
“Right.” He nods, kisses my nose, and then he’s up on his feet.
Since we’re both already dressed, me in the clothes from work last night and Cooke in a pair of dark jeans that fit him like a glove, a button-up dress shirt, and a zip-up hoodie that makes him look like sex on stick, we’re ready to go.
In the car, I pull my phone out of my bag and see I’ve got a bunch of missed texts and voice mails. I guess I never turned the sound back on after work last night. I quickly scan them and realize they’re all from my roommates. The first is from Pats, not long after we left Cy’s.
