Jaci Burton (31 page)

She leaned her head against him and sobbed, so hard that for a while she felt like she couldn’t breathe. And through it all, Cole held her, stroking her hair and her back while she cried out the misery, loneliness, and abandonment she’d felt as a child and all through her adulthood.

For the first time in all these years, she let the memories come through, remembered the good times she’d had with her mother, and all the bad times, wrenching fresh tears and agony so painful she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

And still, Cole held her, murmuring words of comfort, a solid presence while she let go of it all.

When she had nothing left to cry, she leaned her head against his shoulder, so spent she couldn’t even talk. Cole picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He sat her on the bed and went into the bathroom, came back with a warm washcloth to wipe her face. He took down her hair, slipped off her shoes, and unzipped her dress, making her stand so he could slip it off her, then he moved her onto the bed and put her under the covers.

Exhaustion took over and she crawled in. He undressed and climbed in the bed with her, shut off the light and pulled her tight against him.

There was so much more she wanted to say to him, but she didn’t have it in her to have that conversation.

Not now. She needed to regroup.

She closed her eyes and snuggled against his warmth.

COLE LAY IN BED FOR A LONG TIME, LISTENING TO THE
sounds of Savannah’s breathing.

She’d fallen asleep right away, but it wasn’t an easy sleep.

He figured he’d hold her until she drifted off, then he’d get up and watch some TV. It was still early, after all.

But the way she held on to him—clutching him like she was lost at sea and he was her goddamn lifeline—made him rethink his strategy.

She’d gone it alone. Her entire life, she’d had no one. The success and position she held now had been her own doing. She’d had no parents along the way to help her, to cook her meals and make sure she did her homework, no one to kick her ass when she needed it, no one to kiss her boo-boos when she failed and tell her everything was going to be all right.

How tough did someone have to be to survive a childhood like that?

Pretty fucking tough.

Yet she was so sweet. She wasn’t a hard-ass, wasn’t jaded after all that had been done to her. In bed, she was giving and generous. And she smiled a lot. She seemed to enjoy life.

Whereas he’d been nothing but a giant pain in the ass, taking for granted everything that had been given to him. He’d had it so easy, while his parents had struggled to give him a good life so all he had to do was go out and live his dream.

He and Savannah were as different as night and day. How could she tolerate being around him? He was nothing but a spoiled football player who craved the spotlight. He didn’t deserve to be sharing a bed with her. She needed someone who cared for her, who thought of nothing but her, who’d give up everything just to give her the kind of life she deserved.

He sucked in a breath and realized it was time he made some serious life changes. It was time to go all in and stop hesitating about the things he really wanted in his career. In his life.

It was time to start taking some chances.

EIGHTEEN

SAVANNAH WOKE ALONE IN HER BED, FEELING A LITTLE
disoriented and with a wicked headache, but fully aware of what had happened last night.

She sat up, drew her knees to her chest, and laid her head in her hands.

She’d been making a lot of boneheaded moves since she’d met Cole.

Having sex with him, of course, topped the list. But falling apart in front of him last night came in a close second.

What had she been thinking, unloading all her personal history like that?

He’d made it too easy, asking all those leading questions, and giving her the music box that had started the rush of memories. Not that it should have made a difference. She’d always been good at keeping her past right where it belonged—in the past. She was supposed to be helping him exorcise all his demons, not the other way around.

Instead, she’d wilted like some frail Southern flower that crumpled at the first sign of frost.

She gave herself credit for having more backbone and fortitude than that.

“Ugh. You’re becoming a marshmallow, Savannah.”

“Hey, I like marshmallows.”

Savannah’s head shot up as Cole walked in carrying two cups of coffee. Despite her irritation with her behavior last night, she couldn’t fault the company this morning. His hair was sleep rumpled, his jaw darkened with a day’s growth of stubble, his chest bare, and he looked utterly delicious wearing nothing but the tuxedo pants from last night, unbottoned and slung low on his hips.

“I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Obviously.” He handed her a cup and took a seat on the edge of the bed, sipping his coffee. “So what about you and marshmallows?”

Her coffee had been made perfectly, with a teaspoon of sugar and a dollop of cream. He’d been paying attention.

“Thank you. And nothing about marshmallows.”

He set his cup on the nightstand. “I’m a big fan of marshmallows, you know.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.” He took her cup and put it down, then leaned in and pressed his lips to her neck, sliding his tongue along the side of her throat.

She shuddered out a sigh.

“Marshmallows taste sweet.” He nipped at her ear, then pushed her back against the pillows and drew her camisole strap down her arms, baring her breasts. He took a nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the quickly hardening bud. When he sucked, sensation shot right to her pussy, making her writhe in anticipation.

He popped the nipple out of his mouth and grinned up at her. “Sweet and sugary, just the way I like my marshmallows.”

When he moved down her body, lifting her camisole to lick his way across her stomach, she sighed and relaxed against the pillows, knowing where this was going.

This was exactly what she needed. The tension she felt when she woke dissolved, but when his teeth grazed her hip bone and he drew her panties down, a new tautness took its place, a delicious, anticipation of what was to come.

And when he swiped his fingers across her pussy lips, she shuddered.

“Yeah, you’re a juicy little marshmallow, all right,” he said, then put his mouth on her sex.

“Cole.” His name fell from her lips in a moan. Her legs fell open and she gave him whatever he wanted, because when the warm wetness of his tongue was in command, she was his slave.

He slipped his hands under her and took his time pleasuring her, pressing his tongue against her clit, covering her with his lips, only to take her right to the brink and then back away to press kisses to her thigh. She hovered on the edge several times and he knew it, brought her there, and right when she thought she would come, he’d take the prize away, building her anticipation to a screaming level.

She dug her heels into the mattress, lifted her butt and all but shoved her pussy in his face, demanding he give her what she needed. He gently pressed her hips down, held her there, and put his mouth on her clit, giving her the orgasm she so desperately craved.

It was an epic climax, a tidal wave of heat and sensation that tore a scream from her throat. She was still riding the wave of it when he put on a condom and slid inside her, taking her mouth in a hot kiss that made her pussy clench around his cock.

He groaned against her lips and thrust deep. She wrapped her legs around him, the spirals of orgasm still with her as he rocked against her.

He lifted, braced his hands on either side of her to look down at
her, his face drawn with intensity as he moved inside her. She reached up for him and he dropped down, then rolled to his side, drawing her leg over his hip.

“I want you close to me, like this,” he said as he pushed deep, rolling his hips to rub against her clit. He swept her hair behind her ear and kissed her neck while he continued to move inside her.

She sighed at the magic of his mouth, the delicious things he did to her as he made love to her. Everything about him turned her upside down. Being with Cole brought out emotions she’d tried so hard to bury, feelings she’d never wanted to experience.

He kissed her jaw, brushed his lips against hers, then met her gaze again as he gently thrust in and out, taking her ever closer to another orgasm, this time doing it slow and deliberate, brushing his body over her clit, tasting every inch of available skin he could, and running his hands over her as if this were the first time he’d ever touched her. He was so tender in the way he moved over her, pushing her back against the mattress so he could thrust deeper inside her. It brought tears to her eyes and she had no idea why. The way he looked at her tightened her chest and made her want to hold on to him and never let go.

The feelings inside her wanted to erupt, made her want to say things to him she shouldn’t say. It was emotion welling, coupled with the intense feelings of their lovemaking. She held the words back, but not the sensations as he drew the orgasm out and she burst, holding tight to him as she catapulted over the edge, this time with him. He groaned and gathered her close, powering hard into her with repeated thrusts, which only heightened her pleasure.

Spent, perspiring, she held on to him and fought back the ridiculous tears that sprang to her eyes. She had no idea what was wrong with her.

Residual emotion from last night, no doubt. What else could it be?

Cole stroked her hair, kissed her neck, and lifted his head.

“I’m starving. How about you?”

She managed a bright smile. “Totally.”

He climbed off the bed, pulling her with him. “How about a quick shower, then I’ll take you to breakfast.”

Part of her wanted to beg off so she could be alone with her thoughts and emotions, but she knew he wouldn’t let her hide anymore. “That sounds like a great idea.”

COLE KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING ON SAVANNAH’S
mind. She’d been quiet during their morning lovemaking, and at breakfast.

Maybe she was still thinking about last night. Breaking through her stone walls had been monumental, and not something she’d wanted to do. So she likely had some regret. He of all people understood that. Telling people about yourself—especially the unpleasant parts—wasn’t a fun thing. Personally, he hated it, yet he’d forced her to do it. What did that say about him that he’d done it to someone he claimed to care about?

But maybe it had helped her?

He dragged his fingers through his wet hair, then grabbed a brush, throwing off thoughts of Savannah. She was a grown woman capable of making decisions for herself. She was confident and capable and smart, and he was the last person who should be able to influence her. If she hadn’t wanted to talk about her crapload of unpleasant memories from the past, she wouldn’t have opened up to him about it.

He finished dressing and left the locker room. Surprisingly, Savannah was waiting outside for him. He fully expected to have to chase her down, that she’d run and hide from him after all they’d been through.

Yet there she was, fresh and beautiful in her summer dress
and high heels with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She’d become such an integral part of his life he couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day.

He smiled and walked over to her and they headed down the hall to the exit.

“You had a good practice today.”

“Thanks. It’s coming together.”

“I think you’re a good fit for this team. It also helps that you’re working with the players and the coaches and not against them.”

“That probably does help.”

She stopped and turned to him. “So you’re admitting I might know what I’m talking about.”

“You have certain skills that might be useful.”

She rolled her eyes and continued walking. “I have some other suggestions.”

He held the door for her. The blast of heat nearly took his breath away. “Can it wait until we get someplace air-conditioned? I’m dying. And hungry.”

“Wimp. We’ll go to my place. I’ll fix you something to eat.”