In This Moment Page 16

  “Or whatever?” Cole pauses, scrapes his hands over his mouth. When he speaks again, his words come out slow and I feel every crack in his voice like a prick against my skin. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now. If I claim that when I was with that girl, I was pissed and hurting over you, I sound like even more of a jerk. If I could just…” He squeezes his eyes closed. “You have every right to be mad and I wouldn’t blame you if you hate me right now, but… I…”

  “God. I don’t hate you. I-I don’t know what I’m feeling but it’s not hate.” I look up at the night sky to keep tears from rolling down my face. “We weren’t together then and I-I think more than anything I want us to start from now. From this moment. I don’t want my past to drag us down and I don’t want yours to either.”

  Cole cups my face and wipes his thumb over a tear. “Do you mean that? Because I swear that you’re it for me. I’m all in this thing if you are.”

  I shiver, remembering the first time that Cole told me that. I want to trust him. I do.

  “I wish I could take it all back,” he continues softly. “I wish… damn it… I wish that I could change it all and start all over but I can’t. I’m trying to prove that it’s not like that with us, but I keep fucking everything up, don’t I?” His shoulders seem to deflate a bit.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat and shake my head. “You’re not fucking everything up, Cole.”

  He raises his brow and slides his thumb down to my chin. “I’m not?”

  “No.” I bite my lip, the burn from his fingertips beginning to liquefy my body. “I can’t pretend to be completely okay but you’re right that you can’t go back. None of us can. And, honestly, your life isn’t my business.”

  “Not your business?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Aimee, come here,” he says gruffly, eating the remaining space between us and hooking his arm around the dip in my lower back. He lowers his face to my hair and inhales deeply. After a minute, he whispers, “I want to be your business.”

  “Was she anything to you?” I ask into his chest.

  Cole thinks about my question for a long time. His arm tightens and his hand comes up to cup the back of my head. “No, Aimee. Don’t you get it? No one has ever been anything to me until you.”

  ***

  We leave the party early and Cole drives us back to my place.

  “Come inside.” I’m awkward but determined.

  Cole’s quiet. He moves his hand over that small bump in his nose and makes a funny sound. “I can’t seem to make myself tell you no, can I?”

  “Is that going to be a problem?”

  He laughs and follows me up the walk to the townhouse. As I search for the keys, I can feel his breath moving over the back of my neck and the delicate pressure of his fingers at my waist. A force moves inside of me, rocking me back into the channel formed by his arm and body. His warm hand comes around me and slides down my ribs to graze the sensitive skin under my shirt.

  “Focus,” he chuckles soft and low, plucking the keys out of my open purse and placing them in my quivering fingers.

  By the time I manage to get the door open, my lungs are pumping rapidly and I’m a bundle of hemmed in tension. I move through the hall quickly and stop at the threshold of my dark bedroom. Cole is behind me, breathing as hard as I am, using his right thumb to make a jagged path up my arm.

  “I love the way that you taste,” he says as he pushes my hair aside and kisses my neck.

  In one fluid movement, I turn my body, slip my hands under the bottom of his shirt, and press my hungry mouth to his. The floor shifts beneath my feet as Cole walks us through the doorway into my room. We stumble in the dark and collide with the edge of my dresser.

  “Oomph.”

  “This way,” I rasp out.

  Not breaking our contact, my entire body burning with want, I urge him toward the bed and pull his weight down on top of me. Cole flattens his palms on either side of my waist and pushes his knee between my legs. My fingers brush across the soft line of hair that disappears under his waistband and travel up to explore the smooth skin of his chest. When I graze his hardened nipples, he makes a low sound from the back of his throat and flexes his arms. His face dips to my neck and I feel his tongue move across my collarbone and over the raised skin of my scar.

  Too hollowed out to fight my impulse or be embarrassed, I let my thighs fall open and push my hips up in a request. “Please?”

  “If I don’t stop soon, I won’t be able to,” he warns in a croaky voice as he rubs his thumb over the button of my jeans.

  My pulse is jumping up and down. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his head against my tingling breasts. “I—I don’t want you to stop.”

  Silence. A draft of cool air sneaks in over my skin.

  Finally: “Are you sure?”

  I’m sure that I want Cole Everly’s hands on me—on all of me. I can just make out his eyes shining and the outline of his face in the shadowed room. I trace a line down the center of his body, over his neck and sternum and the rigid contours of his chest, until my fingertips are resting below the waistband of his pants. I can feel the soft, silky fabric of his boxers and the crest of springy hairs.

  “I’m sure.” I lean in and nip at his earlobe.

  “Fuck.” Cole moans and automatically grinds his pelvis in a circular motion against me.

  “I remember telling you that I wanted you to stay over tonight.”

  “That was before the party. I didn’t want to assume that the offer still stood,” he grits out, his control clearly as frayed as mine.

  “Trust me. The offer still stands.”

  Cole pushes my hair away from my face, tucks it behind my ears, and bends until I can feel his breath tickle the sensitive skin just below my earlobe. When his tongue flicks out, I shiver and arch my back off the bed.

  Suddenly, there is too much fabric between us. I want to feel his hot skin against mine. I tug the bottom of his shirt and he seems to understand my silent signal because like me, he sits up in the dark and pulls his shirt above his head. Then he’s back, kissing my lips and rubbing his hands over the scratchy fabric of my jeans. He moves to my breasts, paying careful attention to them with his mouth and I grip his solid muscles, gasping for air like I can’t get enough oxygen. He picks up my hair from my neck and lets it fall forward over my shoulder.

  Murmuring things that I can’t understand, Cole moves above me. He holds his weight on his arms and he looks at me like… well, like he’s not sure that I’m real. And, honestly, inside this moment I’m not sure that I am real. Slowly, he lifts my open palm to his mouth and kisses it. I smile, shiver, and wrap my arm around his shoulder to draw him down to me.

  “You don’t just taste good… You smell good too. Like sunlight,” he whispers huskily against my neck, his free hand running over the swell of my hip to my thigh.

  I groan, weave my fingers into the strands of his hair, and press my head back into the pillow. “I didn’t know sunlight had a smell,” I manage.

  He laughs and my stomach tightens at the sound. “Neither did I. But that was before I met you.”

  “Ahhh,” I murmur as skilled fingers graze up my leg to cup the inside of my thigh.

  “Perfect,” he says. And then he’s at my feet, pulling my shoes off, sliding my jeans off my legs, trailing a line of soft kisses across my waist.

  One finger. Two fingers. When his whole hand slips under my panties, I can’t help the needy sound that escapes from my mouth. My hands rake down the length of his muscular back to the rise of his butt. Then I’m fumbling with his pants, earnestly pushing them down over his hips with the soles of my feet, grabbing at his bare skin.

  God. He’s unbelievable. Clothes don’t do his body justice and I wish that I could see him clearly right now, but then I think of the scar on my body and my pale skin and I’m glad for the dark.

  “Aimee.” He clasps my face between his fingers and pulls me to
his mouth. His tongue is hot, sliding into the crease of my lips. He skims my stomach with his hand and gently tugs my right nipple between his thumb and his finger.

  “Oh my God.” I roll my head to the side and bite down my bottom lip.

  Cole’s hand moves to my other breast and I think I might combust before we get to the main event. His mouth roams down my throat and the rough stubble around his jaw burns my skin but I don’t want him to stop. Ever.

  “Don’t stop,” I say out loud.

  Cole chuckles, pushes away and reaches to the floor beside the bed for his pants. I hear the tear of the condom wrapper and I close my eyes in anticipation.

  “Aimee… you’re shaking,” he says quietly, his mouth back at my ear.

  “Not in a bad way,” I whisper, guiding his hips so that our bodies are aligned. I am trembling, but it’s not from fear. It’s the opposite.

  “Damn,” he moans into my neck. “You already feel so good. I…”

  The weight of him is pressing into every part of me and I am so stirred and lightheaded that I think if it were possible to levitate, that’s what I would be doing right now.

  I reach down with my hands. Cole sucks in a sharp breath and then he’s entering me, filling me from the inside out. I close my eyes and grip the bed sheets. There’s just so much to feel that I can’t—

  “Aimee.” Cole’s soft voice snaps me out of my head. In the dark, he kisses my eyelids one at a time, then he pulls back and his eyes search mine. “Are you with me?”

  I can barely lift my voice to a whisper. “I’m with you.”

  Cole

  I’ve never been a cuddler.

  I’m a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy and as soon as the condom’s off, I’m usually out the door. I know that makes me sound like a jackass but it’s the truth. Cuddling after sex is messy and hot and fucking uncomfortable. Who needs to put up with that shit? Not me.

  Until now.

  Apparently I’m becoming a cuddler because here I am, wrapped up in an Aimee Spencer blanket, and I swear that it will take a fucking natural disaster to get me out of this bed. Shit. Even then I’ll need some serious persuading.

  I love this girl’s body. She’s slim with narrow hips and limbs that just keep going. Her tits are only a handful but that’s okay because I don’t need any more than that. Everything about her is warm and tight and even with her here—right underneath me—I can’t seem to stop fantasizing about her in every different position. I’ve just left her and it’s like I can’t wait to go back. That’s never happened to me before.

  I exhale through my teeth and give myself a shake.

  My fingers are making patterns down her back and I bend to nuzzle her long, silky hair. Our bare bodies are meshed together skin-to-skin and it’s perfect. Fucking perfect. She’s got one knee crooked over my hip so that my cock is nestled in between her warm thighs and I have no words to describe how good it feels.

  “What did you think of me when you first saw me?” She asks quietly and I almost laugh because it’s such a girl thing to ask.

  “Aside from the fact that you were gorgeous?” I feel her smile against my chest and I want to high-five myself like an asshole because she likes my answer. “I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to know your thoughts on teacher shortages and mandatory drug sentencing laws. I wanted to ask you how you got this scar,” I lightly trace the thin pink line down her neck and she gasps. “I wanted to climb inside your bright blue eyes and never come out of them.”

  I sound like a complete pussy and I don’t fucking care.

  Aimee needles one finger into my side. She’s laughing. Apparently she likes me acting like a pussy. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  “Flattery?” I rotate my leg and push up with my hips, flipping her over onto her back in one smooth motion. “That’s not flattery, Aimee. It’s the truth. And I’d get used to it if I were you because I plan to show you a lot of truths.”

  She reaches up and touches my face with the tips of her fingers. There’s so much that I want to ask her. So much that I want to know. I grip her shoulders and bury my face in her neck.

  “Cole,” she whispers my name like a prayer. My heart accelerates. I kiss her deeply. Then I draw her earlobe into my mouth and suck it between my teeth. She moans and her knees fall to the sides inviting me in, and I feel like a god. A Titan. An immortal. This is better than winning races. This is better than just about anything.

  I capture her hands and bring them up over our heads. It’s new but I think it’s safe to say that I love this—her pinned beneath me, our bodies slowly rocking in unison. My tongue glides across the ridge of her collarbone. Down. I take one of her soft pink nipples into my mouth.

  “Oh God!” She rolls her chest and pulls up against my hands. I squeeze her wrists and push them farther into the mattress to let her know that I’m not going to make this easy on her.

  “Tell me,” I say in a conversational tone as my mouth skims the bumps of her ribs and moves farther down her body. “What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

  Aimee pants and her body tenses beneath mine. “You mean aside from the part where I thought you were gorgeous?”

  I chuckle against her warm skin. “Yeah. Aside from the obvious.” My wet tongue dips into her bellybutton and I hear her suck in a sharp breath. I lift my head and rest my chin on her stomach. “What else, Aimee?”

  “I—I thought…” Fuck. Her breathing is crazy hard and it’s such a turn on. I’m not sure that I’ll make it through my little game. “I don’t know. I g-guess that I was a little scared.”

  I stiffen. That’s not the answer that I was looking for. “Why would you be scared of me?”

  Aimee tilts her head and her eyes meet mine. They are desperate—nailing me in place. “Because I knew that you could change everything.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Cole

  On Sunday afternoon I tell Aimee to get her bathing suit on because I’m taking her to the beach.

  The truck windows are down and the air is rushing in all around us. She leans her head toward the open window and her loose hair whirls in over her face. Once, when she comes closer, I get whipped in the eye by a long dark tendril but I don’t ask her to put it up because I like it. I like her. I like her this way—smiling and all sunlit and relaxed like she’s something other than sad.

  I follow her through a canopy of palm trees to an open stretch of white sand. She drops her bag and kicks off her flip-flops and shorts and I stand back and appreciate the sight. She’s so incredibly hot in a dark green bikini and I can tell that she doesn’t even know it.

  After opening up both towels, she braids her hair to one side and asks me if I want lotion. I don’t really give a shit about getting burned but I like the idea of her hands on my body so I say yes. And when she’s rubbing circles in my skin, her slender fingers sliding over my shoulders and down my arms, I start wishing that we were alone. I close my eyes and lean my back against her front so that I can feel the perky mounds of her breasts. She stills. In those few quiet seconds the world blurs and comes back into focus. Then Aimee sighs and wraps her arms across my chest and she kisses my neck. I feel her eyelashes flutter against my jawline. Fuck me.

  We lie out on our towels and pass our phones back and forth to take turns choosing songs. I get her an ice cream cone because she saw some kid with one and started drooling. Two scoops. One chocolate and one strawberry. She lets me have a few licks and when I run my tongue from the cone to her wrist, she laughs and flicks ice cream at me. I lick all of the way to her elbow. She’s sweet and sticky and I’m getting caught up in all of it—all of this.

  After awhile, the blue water starts calling out to me. I tilt my head and make a sound and it’s like she can tell what I’m thinking because she squeals and makes a go for it but I’m a lot faster. I run track for Christ’s sake. It would be pretty fucking disappointing if I couldn’t catch up to my girl.

  Under a breezy sun-f
illed sky, I scoop her up by the waist and make a big show of throwing her into the surf. She sputters, splashes, swims out past me and resurfaces. If she was beautiful before, she’s unbelievable in the water. I go to her, lower my head to her skin. Her shoulders are salty and tipped with sun. Today she tastes the way that the air feels.

  Later, when we’re back on the sand, our bodies warm and raw with dried saltwater, I thread my fingers with hers and I think about telling her how I feel. I turn to her, take her chin in my hands and kiss her deeply. That’s when I hear the scream.

  There’s a lady at the shoreline yelling her head off and people are jumping up from their towels going apeshit. I quickly figure out that it’s because some little kid went under and didn’t come back up. Within seconds, I’m moving into the rolling water along with a bunch of others, my heart pumping furiously and my eyes scanning in every direction. And that’s when the fucking kid comes up and he’s waving and smiling and it’s clear that it was all a game to him.

  “Holy shit.” I look at this guy who is standing to my right and we both sort of laugh nervously. When I get back to Aimee, I’m still shaky with adrenaline.

  “He was pretending to be a dolphin,” I say in a can-you-believe-this-shit voice. That’s when I see her face.

  She’s so white that she looks transparent and her eyes are wide and blank. I know in an instant what she’s thinking of and I can’t stand it. I pull her into my chest and I cup her head with my palm. I tell her it will be okay but I’m not sure if that’s what she wants to hear.

  ***

  “I drove after Jillian died,” she says simply.

  I look over at her and I wonder if I heard her right. We’re back in my truck and this is first thing that she’s said since we left the beach. I shift in my seat but I don’t make a sound.