He's So Fine (11 page)

O
livia pressed closer to Cole, tilting her head up to see his face. But it was dark, and he’d closed his eyes.

It was a technique she knew well. She’d just never had it used against her before.

“Not talking about it,” he said. “Not right now.”

She got that. She could understand that. “You’re wet,” she said softly.

“So are you.” He opened his eyes then, and with some of his usual good humor, met her gaze. “And déjà vu.”

Had it been only a week since that morning they’d dragged themselves to his boat, frozen, shivering, needing to get warm, stripping down to the skin beneath a blanket?

Why did it seem like a million years ago?

The reason was both obvious and uncomfortable. There was the amount of time you’d known someone, and then there was the way you’d spent that time.

They hadn’t had much, she and Cole, and though the time they’d spent together had been intensely intimate, bonding them, she still didn’t know his favorite color or whether he was a lid up or down sort of guy.

But she knew something was wrong. Something was haunting him from deep inside. And she was driven to help.

Odd, because he was just about the least helpless male she’d ever met. But she wanted to bring him comfort. She wanted to be his comfort. “You know what comes next, right?” she asked, keeping her voice light, teasing.

He shook his head.

“I get you warmed up.” So she took him by the hand and led him over to her bed, where she pushed him down to sit. Then she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

He arched a brow.

His facade. That amused, laid-back expression, like
Everything’s cool, no worries
. He was damned good at that, so good that she imagined most people never saw past it.

But because she had that same look mastered, she could see beneath it. She didn’t know exactly what was wrong, only that something was. And if he was half as good at hiding his emotions as she was, then he wasn’t going to let go easily.

“Strip,” she said.

He smiled. “Love it when you get rough,” he said, but didn’t move.

Fine. She got that too. Holding back, building barriers. Hard to keep up any barriers without clothes, however, and on a mission, she pulled off her coat, tossing it on a chair by her bed.

His smile widened at the costume beneath. “You going to let me peek this time?” he asked.

“You peeked last time,” she reminded him, willing to let him think he was running the show. She unlaced the costume and it fell from her. This left her in leather arm bands and…neon pink panties. She bent to the sandals and he groaned.

“Leave them,” he said.

She yanked the covers down and sat on the bed, eyeing him expectantly.

Eyes on her, he stood up and toed off his shoes, then did that sexy guy thing where he one-handed his shirt off over his head. Then his hands went to the zipper on his cargoes. “You going to warm me up, Supergirl?”

“That’s Warrior Princess to you,” she said, sucking in a breath when he shucked his pants. He was commando. Cole wore clothes extremely well, but he wore nothing even better. She loved his build, all those rangy, lean muscles. There wasn’t an ounce of extra fat on him.

Still holding her gaze prisoner, he came to the edge of the bed. “In the name of honesty,” he said, his voice low and a little rough, “you should know I’m not all that cold.”

“Good. I’m not all that scared.”

This time Cole pushed her down on the bed and climbed over the top of her. He was solid and warm, so deliciously warm. She’d been colder than she’d thought, but it wasn’t his heat that had her burrowing into him. There was something about him, as if just Cole being Cole somehow reached her deep inside and…lit up her dark places.

He cupped her face and looked into her eyes, silently demanding one hundred percent of her attention before his callused fingers skimmed her breasts, her belly, and then hooked into the pink lace at her hips.

“Lift up,” he said.

She did, and then the panties were gone, sailing into the air somewhere behind them.

“There,” he said, sounding deeply satisfied as he hauled her in against him, and not particularly gently either. “Better.”

Her senses were on complete overdrive. Back on his boat, huddled with him beneath that pile of blankets, shivering with fear and adrenaline, she hadn’t been able to appreciate the situation.

She was appreciating it now.

And he was right. He wasn’t cold. He was a furnace, and she pressed close, her soft body plastered up against his hard one. He was something else, too. He was hard.

Everywhere
.

Another burst of lightning, and she cringed, waiting for the thunder. When it hit, her windows rattled.

Cole breathed her name, the whisper of it incredibly erotic. She pressed even closer, feeling his hands stroke down her body.

Tender.

Cautious.

No, wait, not cautious.

Careful.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He lifted his head, his hair all sexy bedhead, his eyes hot by flickering candlelight. “If you don’t know, then I’ve forgotten how to do this.”

“You’re being careful,” she accused.

He blinked once, slow as an owl. “Careful,” he repeated. “And here I thought I was being the sexiest guy you’ve ever had.”

If he only knew. He was the sexiest guy she’d ever had and he’d barely touched her yet. “I told you I’m not that scared. I don’t want you to be careful.”

“So you’d like me to what,” he said, sounding a bit like she was amusing him, “just jump you?”

Yes, actually.

He took in her expression, laughed in disbelief, and rolled to his back on the mattress, covering his eyes with a forearm.

She turned her head and stared at him. Was it wrong that the first thing she noticed was how the muscles in his shoulder and biceps were flexed? Probably.

In any case, he didn’t move.

She came up on an elbow and poked him in the chest. “Hey.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure you out,” he said.

“Is that going to take a while?”

“I’m quite certain yes.”

Biting her lip, she chose her words as carefully as she could. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” she said. “Never have, never will.”

Lowering his arm, he met her gaze, his eyes glittering in the dark, his skin looking golden by the candle’s glow. “I get that about you,” he said. “I admire that about you. But sometimes a guy wants to take care of the woman he’s about to make scream his name. It doesn’t make you weak, Olivia. It makes you mine to take care of, at least until one of us walks away.”

She had a hard time catching enough air in her lungs. “Yours?” she repeated, trying to decide if she was pissed at the possessive display, or—damn it—even more turned on.

“Until one of us walks away,” he said again, not apologizing, not looking away, just meeting her gaze and waiting for her to decide.

She went with humor; she had nothing else. “We going steady, Cole?”

He didn’t play. Instead, he raised his head and nipped her jaw.
Not
gently.

She sucked in a breath and felt herself go wet. Damn.

Lifting his head, he looked at her. “I haven’t slept with a woman in two years,” he said, “so
steady
has little to do with what I’m feeling right now.”

Two years…Since Susan then. “Good to know,” she finally said.

“Something else you should know. Once I get inside you, I won’t share you. No one else for either of us, not until—”

“One of us walks away?” she asked softly.

His blue, blue eyes hadn’t wavered from hers. “Yeah.”

So they were going to do this, and if they kept doing it, there would be no one else until they were done.

“Olivia.”

He was waiting for an answer. “I can live with that,” she said.

Heat and something else flared in his eyes, and he kissed her until everything left her brain but this, the feel of him, here and now. She didn’t breathe as his hands familiarized themselves with her body. Nothing slid past his intense exploration; he touched and kissed everything—her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs, and then he pushed them apart and held them there, bracing his weight up on an elbow, his gaze never shifting from hers. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

“You’re not even looking.”

He shook his head very slowly from side to side, his expression starting a slow burn deep in her belly. “I’m looking right at you,” he said, and then before she knew what he was about, he slid back up her body, wrapped his fingers around her wrists and tugged her arms up so they slid around his neck.

“Better,” he said, and rolled so that she was on top of him, pressing all his sinewy, hard perfection into the mattress.

The truth was that
he
was the beautiful one, all long, lean planes and hard muscle. She had no idea how long this thing between them could possibly last, but she didn’t fool herself. It wasn’t forever. It wasn’t even long term. She’d ensured that already by not being honest. Because she knew that it was only a matter of time now before that came back and bit her on the ass.

But when this was over, she’d miss him. She’d miss his laugh, his wit, his inner strength…She’d miss everything, including just looking at him. She wanted to memorize him, every single inch: his square jaw and the perpetual scruff, his sexy chest, the cut of the muscles at his hips, his thighs, and what he had between them—which, for the record, was just about the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen. And that was saying a lot, because in general, guy parts weren’t all that gorgeous.

It was then, halfway through her inspection of his body, that his warm breath tickled her ear as his teeth sank gently into her earlobe. His tongue flickered over the spot before his lips slid down her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat, and that slow burn in her belly spread south.

His scent was already familiar to her and still so erotic, making her dizzy with longing. “Cole…”

“Kiss me,” he said, as if he was feeling all the same things. And then, without waiting for her, he yanked her down and kissed her, a soft, openmouthed connection that made her gasp as the tip of his tongue outlined her lips. She opened for him, but he pulled back.

Watching her, eyes hot, he smiled. She stared at his mouth, wanting it back on hers so badly she could taste him.

He gave in with a soft, fleeting kiss. And then another. One more…

He was teasing her.

“Cole.”

“Come here, Warrior Woman,” he murmured, and gathering her in, he finally gave her what she wanted. It was a really great kiss too, hot and sexy, with just the right amount of tongue to make her breathing quicken and her entire body quiver for more.

He knew what he was doing.

And she didn’t. Not when it came to him. Oh, she knew the mechanics, but he’d taken it so far beyond simple mechanics that she felt a little lost, and more than a little panicky.

“You feel good,” he said, tucking her beneath him. “You feel right.”

His words infused her with confidence, and not done with being on top, she rolled them back.

And right off the bed.

She gasped and he laughed as he planted his fists on either side of her shoulders to lift his weigh off her. But she liked it, and wrapped her legs around his hips to show him how much—

A knock sounded on the wall right above them. The wall that she shared with the next apartment over. Callie’s.

Both Cole and Olivia went still.

“Hello?” came Callie’s voice through the wall. “Olivia? Is that you? Are you okay?”

Olivia stared wide-eyed at Cole. “Yes,” she said, but had to clear her throat of the sexual rasp and try again. “Yes, it’s me. I’m—”

Cole slid down her body and put his mouth to a breast, sucking her into his mouth hard, and her entire body quivered. “Oh, my God.”

“What?” Callie asked. “You got a spider? Did you fall? It sounded like you fell.”

“Thin walls,” Olivia whispered to Cole.

Lifting his head, he flashed a grin and switched to her other breast, which he licked and nuzzled, and then gently closed his teeth over her nipple.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped again.

“What?” Callie asked. “You keep saying that! Listen, I’m coming over—”

“No!” Olivia sucked in a desperately needed gulp of air as Cole shifted down her body. “No,” she said. “I’m—” God, his tongue was shockingly talented. For a guy who professed to not having done this for two years, he hadn’t forgotten a damn thing about a woman’s body. “I’m fine,” she managed, squirming as Cole kissed her hip and worked his way inward from there. All she could see of him now was the top of his head and the broad width of his shoulders, gleaming by candlelight between her legs.

“You sure?” Callie asked. “I’ve got a lantern. We could—”

“No!” Sweet baby Jesus. She tried to soften her voice, but Cole had her about to sing the Hallelujah Chorus. “Don’t come!”

“Well, jeez. Okay,” Callie said.

Again Olivia lifted her head and stared down her torso at Cole. He had a big hand on each of her inner thighs. Holding her gaze for a beat, he then dropped his head and locked in on her goods.

“Beautiful,” he mouthed, and let his thumbs brush her core.

And then again, and this time his thumbs were slick from her arousal.

Eyes on hers, he brought one of those thumbs to his mouth and sucked her wetness like it—she—was a delicacy. Her mouth fell open, and she must have made some sort of sound because Callie knocked again. “Olivia? You sure you’re okay?”

Not appearing to be concerned that he was driving her to the very brink of sanity, or that she was trying to shoo Callie off, Cole bent his head back to his task, using his tongue now, up and down, and back up…

Olivia arched into him, managing to rasp out “I’m sure!” to Callie. She looked at Cole. “She’s not coming,” she whispered.

“Good,” Cole said. “’Cause you are.”

Oh, goodie!
cried the devil on Olivia’s shoulder, jumping up and down with excitement.

“No,” she gasped. “We can’t, the insulation—there’s no insulation— She can hear everything—”