Faithful (20 page)

I buck, jutting my hard nipples up towards him, but he clamps his hands on my thighs, holding me down and spreading my legs farther apart. Open to him, I gasp when his mouth descends on my clit and works it over with his tongue, sucking, and … teeth.
Holy mother of the universe, you’ve bestowed a talented man upon me who actually knows what he’s doing.

Cooper is relentless, determined to bring me to a frenzied orgasm that ignites my core and fires mind-numbing bliss to every cell in my body. Somewhere in there, among the thundering climax and subsequent uncontrollable convulsing limbs, I scream his name. I’d applaud him, but said limbs are still restrained.

I stop jerking my hands against the handcuffs and let my whole, depleted body sink into the bed. My mind is in a haze as I gaze down at Cooper, who leans forward on his fists.

“I didn’t know you were a screamer.” His arrogance in the bedroom is such a turn on.

“Never was before, but since you’re here, it seems that I am,” I say in my stupor, throwing his own words back at him.

He chuckles and gets off the bed to retrieve the key to undo the cuffs. He releases each wrist and kisses them before placing them gently on the bed. I’m too sated to move; however, he grabs another foil package and rolls it on his cock as he looks hungrily at me.

I feel like a tipsy drunk and roll on my side away from him. “Oh, my gosh, you’re going to destroy me.”

Cooper spoons me and nuzzles his head into my neck. “You don’t have to do anything, but I have to take care of this.” His deep voice awakens my sleepy nerve endings.

Lifting my leg, he pushes his hard length into my wet center. I give it my best effort to push back to help him along, but frankly, I’m still recovering from the last two orgasms.

“Oh,” I moan as his fingers begin playing with my wet folds again, opening me farther so he can thrust all the way in.

“Watching you come makes my dick insane. This won’t take long,” he says against my cheek.

He pounds into me with urgent grunts, his pelvis slapping against my ass. His hard body envelopes mine as he synchronizes his finger action on my clit in a rhythmic motion.

“Oh, God,” I whisper as I begin to come undone again. I have one arm on the bed, bracing me against Cooper’s thrusts so I don’t fall forward.

“Shit, Imogene,” he growls, shuddering and jerking a few more times before I feel his chest relax against my back.

I put my hand on his to keep him rubbing my clit until a little explosion erupts again. Then I yelp and collapse on my stomach.

Cooper leans gently on top of me and removes the mass of tangled hair from my face to kiss my cheek. He strokes my back then palms my curvy, ample rear end. “We have to do this more often.” He gives my ass a little slap.

Rolling towards him, my hands instinctively push the hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ears, as if this action belongs to me, as if I should be the only woman accustomed to this gesture.

We are covered in sweat, the sheets damp, but I don’t want to leave. I cup his face and he leans in closer to kiss me. Afterward, Cooper gazes at me as though his only purpose is to offer himself as a gift to me.

Sex doesn’t always provide the end result or release you want, at least not for me, and I think it’s especially rare to be in a state where every imagined, desired variable comes together in one perfect earth-shattering moment. For me, it’s this moment
after
. Lust, passion, and the search for devotion are a heady mix of wishful thinking, but I do have this one solitary moment where I believe they’re real. In this instant, I think I could possibly take an ice pick to the glacier around my frozen heart and chisel it from its suspended, petrified state.

“I’m pretty sure I brought you to your knees at least three times, Imogene.”

“You did more than that. I can’t even feel my knees.”

Sixteen

In the morning, my thighs are as sore as if I’d spent the night forcing my inflexible limbs to do one of Lauren’s old cheerleading routines with endless splits. We used four of the seven condoms over the course of several hours, not stopping until sunrise.

I’m not surprised by our marathon session of sex. I am surprised that I could keep up with Cooper. He’s no Easy Rider in bed. He’s more like Robocop, and it would have taken more than a bazooka to put him down.

I look over at the beast in question. Cooper is naked and uncovered, lying on his stomach, arms and legs spread eagle across the bed. The Viking has conquered.

I ease myself out of bed, noticing the sore purple bruises on the insides of my thighs. He bit me in several places, and I’m afraid to find them all.

I use the toilet, avoiding the mirror, then I slip on Cooper’s white, button down shirt from the night before and make my way to the kitchen. He’s right, the ghastly orange décor is an unpleasant blast to the noggin’ in the morning, but it does wake you up. I make coffee and find an orderly fridge with unexpired fixings for breakfast. Working in the family diner has taught me how to make a few comfort food favorites, and one of my specialties is a cheesy egg sandwich. I grill up a couple of them and pour two mugs of coffee before carrying everything back to the bedroom.

Cooper rolls over and stretches, eyeing me with a lazy grin. “Good morning, beautiful.” He leans on his elbow, looking like he’s posing for a nude photo shoot. Well, except for the erection. How the hell can he be ready again?

“Breakfast is served,” I say, pretending he’s not in a state of arousal.

“You cooked for me?” He sits up and accepts a mug of coffee. “Damn, this is great. I’m famished.”

Once I set the plate of egg sandwiches between us on the bed, he picks one up and observes it in amazement.

“This came from my kitchen?”

“It’s just scrambled eggs, Wonder Bread, American cheese, and a lot of butter.”

He eats it in three bites.

“Good,” he says gruffly, so I hand him the rest of mine, and he polishes it off in seconds.

“Do you want me to go heat up the lamb and the duck from last night?” I ask, watching him drink his coffee as though it’s also new and different. “It’s just coffee.”

“You make it better than me.”

“That’s because I’ve made more than ten thousand pots of it at the diner.”

He clears the dishes from the bed, shoving everything on the nightstand, then picks up another foil package.

“I forgot something,” he says, crawling back to me, truly looking like a hungry lion stalking his prey. He kisses me, his tongue darting between my lips. “You look very sexy in my shirt, and—”

“Cooper,” I chuckle. “I have to get home and work. Aren’t you exhausted from last night? We got less than two hours of sleep.”

“My dick doesn’t care.”

We both look down at his length.

I’m turned on, too, and Cooper’s energy is nothing short of intoxicating; however, my bruised and battered sensitive areas are protesting.

He lifts the hem of his shirt and inspects the purple and black splotches along my inner thighs then checks my neck. He even pulls the collar of the shirt to the side to expose a breast that has more
love bites
.

“Shit. I’m a fucking animal,” he says, displeased. “I didn’t realize I got that carried away. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I was enjoying it. And this is the price I pay for sleeping with Cooper MacKenzie.”

He frowns in disappointment. “I’m sorry. I need to keep my hands off you for a while, I guess. Why don’t you take a hot shower and try to relieve these injuries?”

I lean forward and cup his face so I can kiss him again. “Cooper, why don’t you take a shower with me?”

“Because it would be very difficult to be naked with you and not fuck.”

“Get in the shower. Now,” I say sternly.

“As you can see, I really need a cold one. Probably not what you want.”

“Would you get in the kcuffing shower already?” I shout and push him.

He sighs, gets up, and walks to the bathroom, looking back at me suspiciously.

Once inside the steamy shower, I stand directly under the showerhead, the hot water feeling divine against my sore muscles. Cooper, on the other hand, stands at the other end of the tub, looking seriously miserable with his boner. I begin soaping his chest and arms, rubbing my slick hands all over his body.

“Imogene, you’re making this worse. I’m in agony here.” He grabs hold of the shower rod and braces one hand against the tile wall as he looks up at the ceiling with a pained expression.

As I grip his hard cock, he looks down at me with wide eyes. I smile coyly and begin stroking him from his balls to the sensitive tip, rinsing the soap away. He moves his legs farther apart for balance and the muscles in his arms and legs tighten.

“Ah, Jesus,” he groans, letting his head fall back as my ministrations make him harder. I fear he may come too soon.

“Hold on a little longer. I have a breakfast treat for you.” I kiss his neck then get down on my knees.

I grip his ass and have his cock in my mouth before he can react. I stroke his sack while sucking his length, using a little bit of teeth and playing with the slit until he’s moaning and bucking against my mouth.

“That’s good,” he utters hoarsely.

That was just my warm up
, I think to myself, pleased that I’ve got a few moves which surprise him. I suck harder and take him deeper, hearing his breath escalate. Then one of his hands is on my head, urging me on.

“Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop,” he rasps. His other hand begins stroking his cock at the base, his hips thrusting forward, pushing deeper into my mouth. I’ve never seen a guy do that. I’m absolutely turned on.

I don’t let up as he ejaculates and continues jerking as I milk every last bit out of him.

“Imogene,” he hisses with one last, final thrust.

With him done, I stand up and retrieve a washcloth and the shower gel to soap us up again.

His head drops down against his chest as he recovers. “Did I tell you what an idiot I am for not going after you sooner?”

“I think we both waited for the right time,” I say, running a washcloth over his splendid body.

This is an outdated bathroom with a tub that’s much too small for him. He’s like a giant standing in here, but I find it oddly cozy and comforting to be with him in this small space.

“You’re fucking amazing.”

“Because I just gave you a great blow job?”

“No.” He wraps his big, strong arms around me so our naked bodies are squashed together perfectly. “Because everything about you fucking amazes me. I’m serious, Imogene. I knew last year you were different. I couldn’t get you out of my mind, and when you came on to me at Dylan’s wedding, I hoped it would last after you sobered up.”

“It did. You’re definitely different than I imagined. I didn’t give you enough credit before, but then, most guys have been on my very long, very detailed shit list.”

Cooper sighs. “As long as I’m off that list now, I don’t give a crap about any other guys.”

“You made it well beyond the list, mister.”

“So what about today, and tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow? You have a way of escaping, hiding out of sight, and being evasive. I have to go work with Leo and Carson on your new studio today. We’re finishing the paint job, and I’d like you to come along if you can take a break from work. And then I’d like to be with you again tonight. Whatever you want to do. Sex, movies, sex, dinner, sex.”

“If you’re working on our new studio, then I have to work on the jewelry. I can’t take time off if you guys are working for free for my benefit.”

“So help us paint.” His large hands squeeze my ass.

“It’s tempting, but Lauren has one of her militant work schedules laid out for us today. I really need to be there with her, especially since the biz and the wedding are hard to manage while she’s pregnant. She’s exhausted, and I have to help her through this.”

“Okay, then when I’m done painting with the guys, I’m coming over to your place. We can do nothing or everything, but I’m going to see you.”

“I like that plan.” I lean my chin against his chest.

“Good, because you’re going to be seeing a lot of me. We have to make up for lost time—fourteen goddamn months that I should have been all over you.”

“Aw, well, think of that time as the world’s longest foreplay.”

“I’d rather have the world’s longest … what did you call it? Fuck fest?”

“I said fuck
quest
. You know, like a vision quest. Very spiritual,” I add sarcastically.

“I like the idea of a fuck fest better. It’s pretty damn spiritual when I’m inside of you and you scream my name loud enough to be heard across three state lines.”

Seventeen

I drive Leo’s truck home, catching my reflection in the side view mirror. I’m smiling. It’s a beautiful summer morning, and for once, I feel free, silly, and happy, just like any deliriously brain dead woman feels after screwing a hunk all night.

I laugh to myself, thinking of the little lectures I gave Samantha and Kelly regarding men and how none of us have the market cornered on relationships. I don’t even know what Cooper is thinking other than he likes my company and the sex part. I have to agree; however, we’re not teenagers or college kids, and dating takes on a whole new meaning at my age. Men can still goof off for another decade or so, but I’m supposed to put more thought into the men I go out with and consider if there’s the possibility for future commitment, eternal love, children, and all those other highly complicated issues.

I think it goes without repeating that my vetting process when it comes to men has been a complete failure; as a result, I may have just roped myself into another high-octane physical relationship that’s like a Molotov cocktail: explosive and potentially destructive.

When I arrive home, Leo is standing on the porch like an angry father waiting for his delinquent teenage daughter to return from an unapproved night out.

I hop out of his truck and stride towards him with Cooper’s dinner shirt over my halter dress.