Throb (Life on Stage 1) - Page 42

I thought not physically being around Cooper would free me to jump back into the game. Rekindle a spark that I’d once felt with Flynn. But that spark has been extinguished. And physically keeping away from Cooper doesn’t work because, unlike whatever I felt with Flynn, things with Cooper are more than physical. I nod and let him lead me to his car without bothering to get any of my things.

Cooper finally breaks the silence as we make our way onto the highway. “I’m glad he’s a fool.”

“He’s not a fool.”

“Don’t defend him.” His eyes flash to me. “Give me that much at least.”

“Okay. But he was just trying to be respectful.”

“Respect or not, given the chance to kiss you, I’m taking it every damn time.”

Inside his apartment, Cooper opens a wine fridge and lifts a bottle of wine, offering it to me for approval. “When do you have to be back?”

I nod. “Tomorrow night. We have a selection ceremony and then a week off. That’s if I make it to the final four.”

“I need you to stay tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He hands me a crystal glass and pushes the hair from my face.

I nod. “I want you to hold me. I know you had to leave today, but I felt it when you were gone.”

He responds by wrapping me tightly in his arms and buries his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. We stay that way until what amounts to a sigh rolls through my body.

“I need to wash off all this makeup they put on me.”

“Why don’t you go take a shower?”

“Okay.”

“I could also use a shower,” he says, running his hand down my arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps. “Although we’re only going to need another one after we get all sweaty.”

He leads me into a bathroom I didn’t see last time I was here and pushes a few buttons on a nearby panel. It’s a walk in shower bigger than my first apartment. Built for more than one, water shoots out of jets from three sides, the top an indulgent oversized rain shower.

“Fancy shower.”

“Hmmm.” He slips off my shirt, his focus shifting from conversation to undressing me.

“Looks like it’s made for more than one.” The hand reaching for my pant zipper freezes and he glances up at me.

“Never took a shower with anyone in here.” I catch that he says in here and it makes my mind start to wonder if that’s why he’s brought me into this bathroom. It shouldn’t matter; I’m no virgin either.

“Or in the other shower,” he says directly into my eyes.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, but you were thinking it.”

I ignore his comment, although I reach for the buttons on his shirt a little happier. “So now you know what I’m thinking?”

“This time. Yes.” He draws down my pants and kneels down, tapping my calf for me to step out. “It would make my day a lot more productive if I knew what you were thinking more often.”

“Are you blaming me for your unproductiveness?”

He unfastens the back of my bra with one hand. The extent of his dexterity removing lingerie doesn’t go unnoticed. “Yes. I’m blaming you for my unproductiveness.” The finger stroking the side of my breast pauses. “I’ve been near idle since I met you.” He looks up at me.

In the moment, I fall a little bit harder for him. The domineering, sexy, authoritative man, who takes command of a room just by walking into it, just admitted I was his kryptonite. I’m barely able to stop myself from launching at him. Instead, I kiss him fiercely. Hard and long, until I’m so lost in his arms that I don’t even realize he’s carried me into the shower.

I love the way we kiss, as if we’ve been starved for each other for weeks, when it was only a matter of hours since he was buried inside of me. We grope and pull, scratch and claw. He bites my lip so hard when I go to pull away for air that it hurts. But it’s a pain that shoots down to the sensitive flesh between my legs, inciting a fire deep inside of me. My hands go to his hair, pulling, wrenching, clenching—needing him closer. I can’t get enough.

One of his hands drops to my ass and he grabs a handful, squeezing hard before he lifts and guides my legs to wrap around his waist. My back hits the cold tile wall, his hand behind my head protecting me from the full extent of the harshness of our actions.

My entire body aches for him. In a way I’ve never experienced. A savage need rumbles in the pit of my stomach that leaves me desperate to feed it. I moan, feeling the full length of his hardness pushed up firmly against my belly. “I want you,” I breathe out against our pressed lips.

“Patience,” he mumbles back.

I arch my back and use the wall to leverage myself, forcing my body lower in an attempt to bring what I want closer. I need him inside of me. He pulls his head back, amused, his mouth curving to a wicked grin. “That will only make it longer until I give you what you want.” He drops his head and sucks my nipple in.

Somewhere between agonizing torture and blissful euphoria he finally concedes. My head falls back, thudding against the tile, and I whimper as he pushes into me. He drives deep, filling me completely, and then stills, claiming my eyes under the same control that he possesses my body before he begins to move. Satisfied with our gaze locked, he sets an unrelenting pace, pulling almost all the way out each time before slamming back into the hollows of my body. The intensity of each stroke is heightened by the emotions I see in his eyes as he watches me, focused keenly on satisfying my needs before his own.

Tags: Vi Keeland Life on Stage Romance
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