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|Echoes of Scotland Street(On Dublin Street #5)(52) by Samantha Young|
I nodded in acquiescence.
“Dude, she’s yours?” the customer asked Cole, who didn’t deign to answer. “Dude!” The guy nudged Cole in the elbow in a “you da man” kind of way.
Cole stared at him blankly.
His customer faltered, his cheekiness disappearing as he tried to shrug on some cool. “I mean, I’m just saying.” His eyes flicked to me and then back to Cole. “She’s hot,” he ended on a whisper.
Cole continued to stare at him blankly.
“Right . . . okay.” The guy took his card and receipt from me. “I’ll just . . .” He gave an awkward wave and scurried out of the studio.
I leaned my elbow on the counter, my chin resting on the heel of my palm. “You deliberately intimidated him.”
My boyfriend gave a lazy shrug before bending down to kiss me. “You’re not some chick I picked up at an American frat house,” he offered as an explanation to his rudeness. I was clearly dating a gentleman.
Pleased, I smiled.
“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”
“Tomorrow,” I promised.
* * *
In hindsight the urgent and sudden need I had to take back some of the control I felt I’d lost to Cole was borne from misunderstanding.
I’d gone shopping for something that I hoped would make Cole lose sense and thus perhaps give me back part of the control I felt I was missing.
“I had plans,” Cole said, following me down the hall toward his room. “But if you want to jump right into dessert, I’m good with that.”
It was eight o’clock and I definitely wanted to jump straight into dessert.
I turned around and faced him, drinking in the sight of him. I shivered with anticipation of what was to come. Cole was wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans. He was barefoot. Effortlessly sexy. He just lived and breathed sexiness.
I, however, had to try a little harder.
The tingling began between my legs as soon as I whipped off my shirt and threw it across the room.
Cole’s eyes grew hooded at the sight of me in the emerald green silk and lace bra I’d bought just for the occasion.
I grinned wickedly. “There’s more.”
“Do go on,” he said, voice thick.
Slowly I kicked off my heels and then I unzipped my pencil skirt. I shimmied out of it, revealing the matching silk and lace knickers that were cut high across my butt cheeks. The icing on the cake was something I rarely wore.
Black suspenders and stockings.
Cole’s lips parted as I stepped out of my skirt and leisurely turned, my hair skimming my lower back just above the black dragon tattoo. I arched my back so my bottom stuck out in blatant invitation. Glancing over my shoulder, I noted his cock straining against his zipper. I smiled. “Do you like?”
His chest rose and fell quickly. “Do I like?” he said, his voice rough.
I turned back to face him and caressed my breasts. “I got it especially for you.”
In answer, Cole tugged his T-shirt off, his muscles rippling with the force of the moment. I gave myself an inward high five in triumph.
“Turn and face the wall.” The hard, authoritative words caught me off guard.
“What?” I whispered, uncertain but at the same time turned on by the demand.
“Turn and face the wall.”
“Brace your hands on the wall and arch your back.”
My lower belly flipped, hard, and as I leaned over to do as he said, I felt the slickness of my arousal between my legs.
I heard him approach and then his heat hit me seconds before he touched me. He caressed the skin revealed by the high cut of the underwear and then trailed his fingertips down and under them. They slid inside me and I gasped, pushing back against the wonderful intrusion.
“You’re soaked,” he said hoarsely.
I moaned and pressed my hands against the wall to push harder against the thrust of his fingers. “Cole, please.”
He slipped them out of me and grasped my hips. The coarse roughness of a denim-covered erection rubbed against my bottom. “Is this what you want?”
There went my control. But I didn’t feel too badly about that, because I knew Cole was seconds away from losing his grasp on his. “Yes,” I whimpered.
The only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the sound of a zipper. And then the shuffle of his jeans falling to his ankles, followed by the crinkle of a condom wrapper. My inner thighs trembled.
His large hands caressed my bottom, shifting to grab hold of my slender hips. “Spread your legs.”
I felt another deep flip in my belly and I did as I was told.
“Oh God!” I threw my head back, my hands slipping on the wall as Cole thrust into me. His hips stilled, but he slid in deeper as he leaned over to readjust my hands on the wall. I bowed my head, my hair falling around my face, and I stared at the floor, aware of nothing but the feel of him surrounding me, pulsing inside me. Callused hands coasted down my arms and around my ribs and gently pushed up my bra.
Cool air tightened my already pebbled nipples, and my breasts swelled into Cole’s hands as he cupped me.
He kissed my shoulder, brushing his thumbs over my nipples.
He pulled back and then glided in, sparking heat and sensation down all my limbs.
I trembled, holding on for dear life as he pumped in and out of me in increasingly hurried strokes. Sharp arousal shot down my belly as Cole pinched and played with my nipples.
“Come for me, Shannon,” he groaned, his hips jerking harder against me.
I braced my legs and steadied my hands on the wall and I moved back into his thrusts.
“Fuck.” He moved one hand to my hip, his fingers bruising the skin there as he increased the speed of his strokes.
It was coming. The tension inside me hit its breaking point and I froze.
“Yes, yes,” he grunted, sliding his hand up my spine. “Come, Shannon, come.”
On cue the tension split apart and I cried out in release as my sex convulsed around his cock.
“Oh, oh . . . oh . . .” Cole stilled. “F-f-fuck.” He shuddered against me as he came.
I slumped against the wall, panting for breath, and Cole pressed in on me, his hands now on the wall beside me. His heavy breaths puffed against my back as he leaned his forehead on my shoulder.
“I guess that means you liked the underwear,” I murmured drowsily.