He lowers his face so his lips are right by my ear, his strained breaths making my clit throb harder. “More than anything. I want them all to know exactly who you belong to.”
Who you belong to.This is enough to send me over the edge, my walls clenching down around him, making his size even more noticeable. He’s close, I can feel it, and he flips me back over to face him as his thrusts become more erratic.
His eyes are intense as they meet my gaze and he kisses me like never before, burying himself deep inside of me as he reaches his high. He moans against my lips, the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard, and the feeling of him moving and pulsing inside of me nearly sets me off again.
I throw my arms around him, needing him to keep kissing me as I ride him out, longing for a confirmation that this is real. When I come again, he curses with a groan before sliding out.
My cunt is pulsing and red with abuse when Cole stares at it, leaning down to give it one final torturous kiss. I yawn when he takes me into his arms again, his kiss much more gentle this time, and carries me up to the bedroom.
He throws me down with a laugh and for a moment I think he might fuck me to sleep, but then he disappears into the bathroom to retrieve a damp washcloth. His moves are strategic and gentle, every touch making me want another.
And when I’m clean and warmly dressed in his clothes he pulls the covers up to my chin, holding me to his chest until we both drift off to sleep.
Chapter twelve
Noelle
Iwaketotheall-consuming darkness, its tendrils coming straight for my throat. But with Cole’s body wrapped around mine, protecting me from the night, it loses its fangs.
The winter winds howl as they come down mountains, keeping him fast asleep. God, I wish that were me. That I could stay like this, warm and wrapped in his arms, for the rest of my days. His bare skin rises softly underneath my fingertips, the rise and fall of his breathing reassuring me deep in my bones.
Last night is a haze of lust and feelings, and I know that this was a long time coming for both of us. One glance at his sculpted chest brings me right back to that place, to that itch only he can scratch. It would be so easy to lock myself in the bathroom and make myself come, but I won’t. Cole is the only one I want touching me now.
It takes intense effort not to rub myself on his thigh and wake him up with a kiss, every inch of my body burning to feel him inside of me again. But last night was a one-time thing, and it wouldn’t be fair of me to expect anything more. I should leave before I do something stupid.
I expect the cold touch of the wooden floors when I step out of bed, yet it doesn’t come. I look down to find Cole put his thickest socks on my feet while I slept, knowing how cold they get. A crease forms between my eyebrows as I try to figure out his motive.
He’s not mine, no matter how badly I want him to be. We just had sex. Amazing, toe-curling, heaven-seeing sex. But we are both consenting adults, best friends. It doesn’t mean anything.
Even if he cooked me my favorite dinner and called it a date. Even if he declared his love for me on a dare without complaint, and a strangely convincing gaze. We got caught up in a moment. That’s all it is.
And now that the moment’s passed, I am left to pick up the pieces of my heart.
The world is quiet enough you could hear a pin drop, and I make my way down the stairs on the tip of my toes to avoid waking Cole. I want nothing more than to talk to him, make sure some part of our friendship survived, but I need time alone to think.
I know myself. One look at his dopey smile and all thoughts go out the window. And I can’t have that right now.
Pacing the wall of bookshelves that lines the living room, I take in every author, title and cover. It’s hard to imagine Cole reading most of these; he likes reading well enough, but he’s more of the sporty, physical type. He doesn’t take the time to read a lot, let alone enough to fill these shelves. But there is one particular shelf, right at my height, that gives me pause. Somehow, Cole has a copy of all my favorite books.
Why would he do that? He’s my best friend, sure, but it’s not like I keep his favorite books at my place. I’ve got his favorite chips and his beer, and some spare clothes in case he needs them. Everything a good friend is supposed to have.
A strange feeling rumbles in my chest as the realization hits. Between this and the pads in the bathroom and all my favorite things filling his house…it’s like Cole built this house with me in mind.
And I can’t make sense of it.
I don’t come over nearly enough to warrant this level of care. I could understand the snacks or even the pads—that’s just considerate and being prepared. But why have my books? Why have that dress?
Every minute this storm drags on I get more confused about what’s going on between us. I always thought it was black and white; I’m a waitress, he’s a big name in the NHL. I’m me, and he looks likethat. I lucked out having him as my best friend, but there was never any chance of something happening between us. But now…now I don’t know what to think.
Maybe I should lose myself in a story for a while, turn off the rambling part of my brain until I can make sense of all of this.
I pick a book and plop myself down on the couch, burying myself in a blanket to keep out the cold. A fire would be nice, but my track record with fire is as messy as Cole with the coffee machine—I won’t dare as I might burn the house down.
The snow piles up further against the window, up to my ribs at the very least, and I’m in someone else’s house, depending on him even when he insists it’s not like that. I should feel trapped and anxious, yet somehow, this is the most calm I’ve been in months.
I get so lost in my book that I don’t notice Cole until he walks right past me, his velvety voice muttering a softgood morning, Honey.He walks into the kitchen, shoulders stiff and rigid, and I see him clutching the counter top with all his strength.
I’m not sure what I expected; maybe he’d sit down next to me, try to distract me like he always does, make me laugh. But not this. Never this. Something feels different now. Colder, almost.
