“Already did.” He points to his bag on the couch he was occupying earlier.
“Okay, well, I’m ready when you are.”
Atlas gathers the pencils and tucks the papers they were working on into a notebook. “We’ll look at these tomorrow,” he promises Noah.
Grabbing their coats, we head out and say bye to the others. I catch Seth’s eye on my way out and stop.
“You good, Seth?”
He glances at Atlas and nods. “Yep. I’m perfect, Cora. Have a good night.”
Heading out to the car, I listen to Atlas and Noah chatter about different kinds of art supplies. I’m grateful for the distraction because my head is spinning. Is what Atlas said true? Is that why he calls me Firefly? It’s a good thing that he’s driving us home because we need to have a talk when Noah goes to bed. Trying to calm my nerves, I buckle myself in and brace for the discussion I don’t think I’m ready for but need to have.
Chapter Thirty-One
Atlas
Cora’s been quiet since we left the shop. I’m not as on edge as I was earlier. I still want to murder someone, but since her parents are already dead, and I don’t know who is sending her threatening notes and flowers, I have to wait. Noah and I sat together for a while. He really is a cool kid.
I can tell Cora has tried to erase any lingering pieces of his early childhood. Thank God for Emma. I’d be dead without her, either at the hands of my foster father or by my own reckless decisions.
Pulling up to Cora’s house, I cut the engine and help her grab their bags. Unlocking her front door, she walks past me with a quirk of her eyebrow.
“How’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Open the door. I know I locked it when we left.” She crosses her arms over her chest, then eyes Noah. “Go grab a shower, stinky.”
Rolling his eyes, he walks up the stairs, leaving the two of us alone. I’ve been dying to get her to myself all day, and I’m not wasting any time. “I didn’t know you wear glasses.” I close the distancebetween us, standing chest to chest. She’s so much smaller than I am. I fucking love it.
I could easily overpower her if I wanted to, but I don’t, not unless we’re in bed. There’s so much I want from her. I want to hold her and take care of her. I want her to let me love her.I want her to let me in. Fully.
“It’s a requirement for librarians. Proves we’ve spent too many hours reading books in the dark,” she jokes.
“You look sexy in them, baby. With your hair pulled up like that, it’s given me all sorts of ideas all day.”
“Is that so?” Reaching toward me, Cora grabs my waist and pulls my body closer toward her. My dick twitches at her boldness.
I’m usually the one to initiate contact, so when she does it, fuck, it turns me on. There’s so much I want to do, both with her and to her.
Straining to listen, I hear the shower still going. Good, we still have some time. “It is. Everything about you is sexy.” I bend to kiss her. Starting at her forehead, I move down to her cheeks and nose, lightly pressing my lips as I go. “There is not a part of your body I don’t want to touch or taste,” I whisper as I capture her lips with mine.
Cora releases a sigh and leans against me. Wrapping my arms around her, I lift her into my arms. Instinctively, her legs wrap around my waist, and without breaking my hold, I walk us to the living room. I want more space, and if I sit her on the counter, it will be a repeat performance of last night.
Not that I’m complaining. I’d never turn down a taste of my girl, but Noah is still wide awake, and I’d rather not scar him for life.
Sitting on the couch, I keep Cora in my lap. I groan when she arches her body against mine, grinding on my hard dick. I barely fight the urge to rip her leggings off and sink into her.Patience, Atlas.
“God, you feel so good.” I pull my lips from hers and stare into her eyes. I’m so fucking in love with her, and as much as it should scare me, it doesn’t. I’ve waited my whole, miserable life for her.Cora is everything.
She has no idea what she does to me. The blue of her eyes is tinged dark with lust, but she squeezes them shut as she leans her forehead against mine. Rubbing circles on her back, I freeze when she speaks.
“We have to talk, Atlas,” she starts, blowing out a puff of warm air.
Talk? No. I’m more of a man of action. Pulling her lips back to mine, I kiss her harder than before. Taking advantage of her surprised gasp, I slide my tongue against hers. Grabbing the side of her face, I hold her where I want her, deepening the kiss. I feel her pulling back again, and as much as it pains me to, I let her go.
“Atlas, I mean it.” She pins me with a serious look. “I need you to give me time to?—”
