"Can we take Buster out?" I ask without returning his gaze. "I think I need some fresh air."
He laughs softly before placing his hand under my chin, lifting my head, and kissing me softly. "Sure. Anything you want, darling."
As we lie on the couch in the evening after a several-hour walk, Cole has started a movie that Jules thinks I really need to see. Unfortunately, I don’t even remember its title because I can’t focus on anything but Cole. My back is against his chest, and he has an arm around me. I can feel his breath on my neck. Every time the warmth brushes my skin, a shiver wants to take hold of me as that heat spreads through me once again.
After a while, I have to admit that it’s pointless. I have no idea what the movie is about and can’t ignore Cole’s body for a second longer, so I turn to him. My hand rests against his broad chest as I look at his face, my gaze lingering on his lips.
"What’s wrong, little darling?" he asks lazily as he looks away from the TV and at me. "You don’t like the movie?"
I shake my head slightly and, cheeks warming, confess what is nothing but the truth. "I like you better."
He chuckles softly and pulls me closer before moving his hand up my back to slide his fingers into my hair. "You surprise me over and over again, you know that?"
His touch sends tiny shock waves through my body, which is why I just shake my head again instead of answering anything.
A smile tugs at the corners of Cole’s mouth before he kisses me. Carefully, his lips touch mine, sending a rush of giddiness through me as my body pushes against his of its own accord. I sink into the sensation of this kiss until I feel Cole’s hardness pressing against my leg and involuntarily gasp.
"I’m sorry," he murmurs after pulling away from me slightly. "But you’re driving me crazy. I can’t help it."
"Is that good or bad?"
He gives a low growl that makes his chest vibrate against my palm and kisses me again before answering. "That’s good. Very good, even."
His words cause me to feel strong all at once. Almost powerful. The feeling reminds me of the moment I fired the gun even though it’s also quite different. Because it’s not power over life and death. It’s power over Cole. And it lifts me up immensely.
Gathering all my courage, I let my hand slide over his T-shirt, feeling the muscles underneath and wishing the fabric would disappear.
"I want to touch you," I admit and immediately feel Cole smile against my lips.
"Do you want me to take it off?"
I’m still nodding as he already sits up to pull the piece of clothing over his head. I kneel beside him on the cushion, shamelessly staring at him as he leans back.
Cole’s body is a work of art. He reminds me of the pictures of ancient sculptures in the history book we had at home. He’s the living image of the statues of the ancient gods. Everything about him radiates pure strength and looks flawless to me.
When I lift my gaze back to his face, he returns it with a mischievous smirk. "Like what you see?"
I nod slightly before reaching out and letting my fingertips caress his now bare chest. I examine every peak and valley of Cole’s torso as if his body were a foreign land to be explored. The broad shoulders. The rock-hard muscles of his chest. The ridges and dips of his abs, visibly quivering as my fingers trace over them. The hairs that disappear beneath his waistband. This time, I follow their path with my eyes and clearly see the bulgebeneath his pants although the TV and the streetlamp outside the windows are the only sources of light.
Cole inhales and exhales deeply as my fingers pause just above the fabric.
"Can I… see it?" I murmur, keeping my gaze lowered.
Instead of answering, he reaches for the button of his jeans.
I’m getting unbearably warm, knowing my cheeks are glowing again, but I don’t care. My curiosity gets the better of me, so I watch intently as Cole unzips his pants, and they, along with his shorts, are gone in seconds.
My mouth forms into a silentohas I look at his hardness. Large and slightly throbbing, it rises between his legs, and as uncomfortable as it makes me, I simply can’t avert my gaze. As if controlled by remote, I extend my hand and gently stroke my fingers over the shaft, which feels velvety soft, yet as hard as steel.
At my touch, Cole inhales sharply. "Fuck… Little darling…"
Startled, I pull my hand back and glance up at him. His brows are drawn together, his eyelids heavy. But his eyes are once again assessing me with that blaze I find in them every time we get close, and they draw me in completely.
"Did I do something wrong?" I still ask uncertainly because it sounded like I hurt him.
"No. You just have no idea what you’re doing to me."
It’s obvious that he’s right about that, which causes uncertainty to rise in me. "Should I… stop?"
