The scent of Cole was heady. I had to create space because I so desperately wanted to lean into her.
“We really need to work on this problem of yours. You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” she warned, following me.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you really unaware?” she asked me, pressing her forehead against mine and closing her eyes. “Hmm?” she hummed, and the melodic sound travelled to the core of my chest. “Your pheromones,” she nearly purred.
It was like a jolt of cold in a sauna, bringing the situation into clarity. I… I was horny. It felt absurd to recognise, but when had the discomfort in my belly turned to desire?
“I can’t—”
“Shh,” Cole interrupted, her nose pressing against mine, her lips brushing mine.
“You make me,” I argued and pushed against her.
When had my hands moved to rest on her waist?
I was drowning, I realised. And it had taken me too long to realise.
“Cole?” I said, clinging to the only life raft I had, desperate enough to beg the water for help.
She made a gruff groan in recognition, and her lips brushed softly, more fully against mine, hesitating just long enough to feel like a kiss, a ghost of one.
“I don’t want to drown,” I told her.
We shared a few heavy breaths, Cole’s lips just a hair's width from mine. I ached with the need to know her lips again.
I pulled her waist closer to me.
Cole groaned, pressing forward and kissing me, hard, slowly, like she was balancing on a knife's edge for control.
I kissed her back, recklessly, my hands moving to claw at her back, pushing my fingers under her top. The warmth of her skin was something addictive.
When she stopped kissing me back, pulling away, I continued to chase her, kissing down her jaw.
She was standing and backing away from me, looking at me with a pained look of hunger and trepidation.
“I can’t,” she said. I was breathing heavily, dizzy from the taste of her.
She growled deliciously low and came quickly back to me, holding my face in her hands and kissing me fiercely, more passionately than before.
She broke the second kiss more quickly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pained.
I held onto her tighter. I was hot and needed to be hotter. I was drowning and needed to drink her.
“Please,” I begged.
She growled deliciously low and easily pulled herself free from me before she stormed out of the room, and I heard the bathroom door upstairs slam shut.
I sat, trying to catch my breath, the loss of her feeling like being physically hit.
We couldn’t leave it like this.
It took a few minutes, but I gathered my energy and followed Cole upstairs.
At the top of the stairs, I could hear the sound of the shower running from the bathroom.
