Cooper rubs the back of his neck. “I was. I have been, and it’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity, but nothing felt right.”
“So why does it feel right now?” I ask him.
He pins his lips together, as if he’s keeping his answer to himself. “Everyone is different, and this is…” He reaches for my hand. “This is different and—” He cuts himself off. “And this is what I believe it should feel like.”
“What does that mean?” I ask him.
“It means …” Cooper trails off, and I can barely see the conflict in his eyes, but it’s there.
Is he not telling me something?
Cooper puffs out a breath and seems to come to a decision. “It means that I told myself that I wouldn’t be with another woman who isn’t going to be my wife,” he says the last few words quickly, but they hit me square in the chest.
“But I’m not going to be your wife,” I whisper. “Am I?” I ask him, or maybe I’m asking myself. I’m not sure of anything.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” he asks.
“I —” I cut myself off because I think I might want that.
“We don’t have to talk about this right now if you don’t want to,” he says.
Cooper stands there staring at me, and everything he does makes me feel special, likehis. He is who I see for myself. He is who I’ve always hoped and dreamed of.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Do you still want this?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He leans over me, devouring me with renewed passion. While his large, calloused hand slips under my ribs and guides me further back into my messy bed.
I told myself if this moment ever came, I would let my instincts take over. Sex is not rocket science, but my brain would find a way to overcomplicate it.
My knees bracket his hips, and he rocks against me, making me moan, but he drinks the sound in.
With trembling hands, I push his hair out of his face, and he stares at me.
“What?” I ask shyly.
“I wanted to give you a minute,” he says.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper.
He nods, slipping his hand between my thighs, dragging a knuckle through me, and I gasp as a pleasing curl of heat rockets through my body like gasoline to a fire.
Cooper trails his mouth over my neck and down between my breasts, pausing on each, pulling the cup of my bra down.
“I want to obsess over every inch of you,” he says into my skin. The friction of his beard makes me writhe, arching my back.
“Take it off,” I plead.
He reaches behind me and unclasping my bra. I shimmy out of the front and Cooper groans at my chest.
“Perfect,” he mumbles. Skimming his tongue over every inch of my breasts while he looks up at me, his hand dives back to my center, drawing light circles in the same rhythm as his mouth, working me up, driving me crazy.
I grab his bicep, squeezing, digging my nails into his skin, and he grunts at the sting.
“You okay?”
