“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you like that earlier,” she said.
“Is that meant to be an apology?” I asked.
Cole’s nostrils flared. She stepped forward. It felt like she was towering over me. Like she could take anything she wanted from me. Her eyes were such a deep, endless brown. She was breathing heavily and more deeply until the movement of her chest changed from dangerous to threatening in a different way.
“You started it,” she said, suddenly reaching out and gripping my hips, pulling me closer to her.
I brought my arms up between us, but she pressed me against her, trapping me. She dipped her head beside my ear.
“In the kitchen,” she accused and inhaled deeply, pulling away with a grin on her face.
“Right now,” she said, holding eye contact.
“I’m doing it right now?” I asked, my voice low, scared to make a sound, trapped.
“You can do it to me, and it’s fine, but I give you a taste, and it’s abuse?” she asked, her voice lowering, demanding attention.
I felt warm. I wanted to be hotter. Was this what it felt like to produce pheromones?
“I’m not in control of it,” I told her.
The air was turning sweet with Cole.
And I was drinking her in.
Leaning into her.
Stretching out for her.
Her lips crashed against mine.
Something within me exploded. Like a void come alive. Primal.
I kissed her back.
Pressing myself against her, fisting her top.
Her hands gripped my hips possessively.
I opened my mouth for her tongue.
We fought for dominance of the kiss, one of her hands leaving my hip to control the kiss with a fistful of the hair at the base of my skull.
I groaned in submission.
My pussy clenched.
Cole broke the kiss.
I tried to pull her closer again.
Her hand left my hair, and she released my hip.
“Cole?” I asked, desperate for her to return.
“Go to bed,” she snapped as she stepped past me and left my room.
I stood there, trying to catch my breath, trying to understand what had happened for far too long.
