But that wouldn’t do us any good.
I lean my head back against the head rest and close my eyes. I feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to open them. He hasn’t spoken to me, and I have so much to say to him that if I even open my mouth to try, I’ll probably regret it. But then again, I’ve never been one to bite my tongue.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
COLE
WE ENTER THE clubhouse, and I walk past her over to the stairs. I take them two at a time and turn on the light once I hit the landing. A big wooden log bed sits in the middle of the area. And that’s it. No TV, no dressers, no nightstands. There’s a door to my right leading to the full bath.
She comes to the top of the stairs and looks around as I drop her bag. She hasn’t spoken since we stood in the middle of the road, but I know she wants to.
And now that my anger has died down, I hate that I told her to go fuck Bryan. The words tasted like shit. The thought of him sleeping with her makes my stomach knot.
“Cole—”
“Stop,” I interrupt her.
Her eyes narrow on me. I step to her. “Just stop talking,” I say, placing my hand in her hair. Her heavy eyes close, and she lets out a sigh. She’s drunk. And probably still pissed at me. Possibly tired. But I don’t fucking care.
I want her!
I lean down and press my lips to hers. She opens without thought, tilting her head back. I push my hips into hers, and she moans in my mouth. I’m so hard for her all the fucking time. It’s pathetic.
I reach for her sweater and pull it up over her head. “Can we take a shower?” she asks.
I’m about to say fuck a shower, but her eyes go to the blood on my hands, and I realize I just got it in her hair. “Sure.” I don’t want any part of Bryan on her. Even though I would love to paint her body red.
We walk into the bathroom, and she looks around as I start the shower. I remove my shirt and then kick off my tennis shoes. I’m removing my jeans and boxers when she comes up to me. I pause as she places her hands on my bare chest.
My heart starts to pound at the softness in her touch. No one has ever touched me like she does. Like it means something. As if she could save me from myself. I’ve always been the guy who got in and got out. The girls I brought home, didn’t stay the night, and the older women I fucked, I left their house as soon as I was done. But I can’t seem to leave her. I reach up and push her hair behind her ear, exposing all the piercings. I run my thumb over them.
She releases a long breath. “I don’t wanna fight.”
Her words surprise me. “I don’t either,” I say, and I’m just as surprised with myself that they are the truth. I love a fight. Doesn’t matter if they are physical or mental. I love fucking with someone.
“Can we just forget about what happened?” she asks, biting on her bottom lip nervously.
I can’t just forget that Bryan dared his friend to fuck her. What if someone else does that? What if someone else tries to take what belongs to me? Or worse? Forces her? I know I’m a sick bastard. I know that I prefer a fight over a civil conversation, but there are others in this city just like me. Some older and some younger. “Yeah,” I tell her because I don’t want to worry her. I’ll continue to protect her no matter what the cost. Because I’m the only one who can destroy Austin Lowes.
Right.
She pulls away from me and goes to finish getting undressed. I turn and get into the shower, and she follows me. I stand under the sprayer, and she watches the blood run into the drain.
I grab her arm and pull her to me. “Don’t think about it,” I tell her.
She wraps her arms around my neck. “Then take my mind off it.”
I capture her lips with mine and spin us around, her back hitting the wall. She gasps into my mouth at the coldness, and I deepen the kiss.
My right hand goes to her thigh, and I grip it in my hand and lift it up, wrapping it around my hip.
She pulls her lips away and tilts her head back. Her eyes are closed, and her wet lips are parted. I take my hard cock in my hand and slide it into her without wasting another second, and she whimpers. Fuck, I love hearing that sound when I’m inside her.
She’s already wet for me. Just like I’m hard for her.
She opens her heavy eyes, and she moans as I begin to move in and out of her. Slowly teasing her.
I grab her other leg and pull it off the shower floor and push her more into the wall. She clings to me.
“Cole,” she pants, and I pick up my pace. “Oh, God! Cole …”
I lower my head and capture her lips with mine again, knowing that she’s mine. I get to have her. However I want, whenever I want.
_______________
I open my eyes to see Austin sleeping beside me. The sun shines through the one window up here and I roll over, picking my phone up off the floor to check the time. It reads a quarter past nine.
Lying back down, I run a hand down my face. We didn’t get much sleep. We didn’t get back to the clubhouse until after two a.m. and then we spent almost an hour in the shower. And then another two awake in bed.
Like always, I couldn’t get enough. She couldn’t seem to either, and I’m not complaining.
“You okay?”
I look over to my left and find a set of dark green eyes on me. I smile at her, pushing her hair back from her face. I yank the covers back and grab her arm, yanking her up to straddle me. “I am now.”
She throws her head back laughing, and I soak it in. I’ve never heard her laugh like that. I’ve only ever seen anger from her. Or sadness. I’ve never tried to make her laugh or smile.
I should make her do it more often.
She straddles me, naked and beautiful. Her dark hair is down over her shoulder lying on my chest. It’s finally dry from the shower we had hours ago, and the alcohol she consumed seems to have worn off.
Her eyes scan my chest, and her fingers graze my scar. She’s never asked about it before. “What happened?”
“Broke my collarbone.”
She tilts her head to the side. “How?”
My eyes look into hers while she stares at it. “Car wreck. Seat belt tightened and snapped it on impact.”
Her hand freezes on the scar, and her eyes meet mine. She stares at me so intently that my pulse quickens.
“You lied.”
My eyes narrow at the accusation in her voice. “Excuse me?”
“You lied,” she repeats.
“About what?” I demand.
“You weren’t driving.”
I tense at her words. She searches my eyes and sighs heavily, her breath brushing her hair from my chest. “Who were you covering for?”
“Enough!”
“No, Cole. Why did you lie?” she demands.
I grip her hips, my fingertips digging into her skin, and shove her off me. I stand, running a hand through my hair and walking toward the bathroom.
“You couldn’t have been driving,” she whispers. “It’s your right shoulder. Not your left. You lied …”
I close my eyes. It took her two seconds to realize what no one else ever did. I was in a sling for months. My right arm was. Not my left. No one ever questioned it.
“Why would you lie, Cole?”
“Don’t, Austin.”