I’m ready to move.
“I don’t need one,” he says to my surprise. I saw him smoking outside, and while I didn’t really mind, I wanted to get the cigarette out of the way so I could start kissing him.
I needed to kiss him.
The idea that he doesn’t drink when I know he’s a smoker is strange to me. Don’t those usually go hand-in-hand? I’m not much of a smoker unless I’m drinking. Then all bets are off. Kasey keeps a pack of cigarettes in the freezer for the nights when I’m super drunk and just need to smoke something.
But Cooper is different.
There’s something about him.
Finishing my shift without getting myself off was hell. There were a few times I almost went into the bathroom and touched myself, but somehow, I managed to have a little bit of self-control.
Somehow.
“Are you sure?” I ask awkwardly, standing in the entryway to the kitchen.
“I think we both know why I’m here, Bailey.”
“I think that’s true.” Only my breath has kind of caught in my throat and I’m hoping he’ll kiss me again so I don’t have to keep trying to find things to talk about.
“Tell me,” he strides across the room and invades my space, standing so close to me we’re practically touching, but not quite.
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you want from me.”
“Why?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
He wants to hear me say it? Well, Brave Bailey is here. I’m not going to back down now. He wants me to be forward? I can be forward.
I take a deep breath.
“I want you, Cooper. I’ve been thinking about you all week. When you didn’t call or text…I thought I wouldn’t see you again.” I’m embarrassed at how needy my voice sounds suddenly, but then something flashes in his eyes.
Pain?
Anxiety?
Regret?
It’s gone before I know what it was, so I try not to worry. Then he’s kissing me, and all rational thoughts float away. Cooper swipes his tongue across my lips slowly, passionately, making me forget, just for a moment, about everything but him.
My hands yank at his clothes, pulling off his shirt. I feel his hard chest beneath my hands. There’s a little patch of hair on his chest and I groan when I feel it. I love the way he’s so masculine.
He’s everything Dominic was not.
Pushing the comparison from my head, I focus on yanking my own shirt off. Now it’s Cooper’s turn to groan.
“Baby,” he murmurs, cupping my breasts. “You weren’t wearing a bra?”
“I might have taken it off before I clocked out,” I confess. “It’s tucked in my purse.”
“Why?”
“To see the look on your face.”