Coldhearted King: Chapter 35

My phone buzzes on my side table, waking me from my sleep. I blink drowsily at the time on my clock. It’s after midnight. Who on earth is calling at this time of night?

I pick it up and see Cole’s name on the screen. “Hello?”

“Delilah.” His deep voice sends a thrill through me, and I immediately perk up.

“Is everything okay? Are you back in New York? I thought I wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow.”

“I wanted to see you. Can I come up?”

My pulse speeds up. “You’re here? Of course.”

I rush to the door and press the button. I look down at myself. Should I change into something sexier? At least this shirt doesn’t have a stain on it. Then I shrug. I’m too excited to see him to worry about changing into lingerie.

When the knock comes, I fling the door open and take him in. He’s wearing a button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up—one of the sexiest looks on a man—but as I smile up at him, it’s the dark shadows under his eyes that catch my attention.

I grab his arm and pull him into my apartment. “What are you doing here, Cole? Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he backs me against the wall and drops his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot at the crook of my neck. Goose bumps scatter over my skin, and my nipples harden. Since I’m not wearing a bra, he must be able to feel them pushing against his chest. But for a moment, he just stands there, his fingers curving around my waist, pressing into me, and I run my hands over his biceps, up to his neck, sifting through the hair at the back of his head.

“Are you okay?” I’ve never seen him like this before.

He lets out a breath and steps back. “It was a long trip. Non-stop meetings with investors who want to be stubborn just for the sake of it.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

And he came here instead of going to his comfortable penthouse? A hot rush of emotion hits me. He wanted to see me. I swallow hard. This is the first time he’s deliberately shown me this side of him. The one that isn’t the unflappable billionaire, focused and in control at all times.

I move closer, cupping his jaw and brushing my thumb over the stubble a day’s worth of travel has given him. “My bed isn’t anywhere near as big or as comfortable as yours.” His brow cocks at that understatement. “But you’re more than welcome to join me in it.”

His eyes sweep over my face. “I’d like that.”

“Okay.” I can’t stop the smile that pulls at my lips.

“Okay,” he repeats. He’s still standing there looking down at me, his gaze fixed on mine, so I reach for his hand, twine my fingers through his, and start toward my bedroom. He follows, but a thought occurs to me, and I look over my shoulder at him.

“Do you need to let Jonathan know?”

He shakes his head. “I sent him home when you buzzed me in.”

He was intending to stay the night here when he got here. He’s come straight from the airport, intending to stay with me. I shouldn’t let something so small mean so much, but I can’t help it. It does. It means a lot.

I don’t wrap myself around him the way I want to. I just nod and continue leading him to my bedroom.

“Is Alex here?” he asks as we reach my door.

“She’s spending the week in LA with Jaxson.”

“So we’re all alone. What a shame,” he drawls, with a crooked smile.

A thrill ricochets through me, but I don’t say anything.

I do a speed check of my bedroom as we enter. Thank god I keep it relatively neat, and there aren’t bras and underwear scattered all over the place. Not that Cole seems bothered by what my bedroom looks like. He stares at my bed, and I know what he’s thinking. I suppress a laugh, dropping his hand and going into the bathroom and returning with a spare toothbrush. “I don’t have any clothes that will fit you.”

“That’s okay.” He’s already unbuttoning his shirt. “I won’t be wearing clothes if I’m in bed with you.”

I watch him strip, my gaze wandering over his broad chest and sculpted abs. He drops his pants and boxer briefs, revealing his already half-hard erection, and my stomach clenches in anticipation. He chuckles as he saunters toward me, letting me look my fill before tipping his head down so that I think he’s about to kiss me. Instead, he takes the toothbrush from my hand, brushes his lips over my forehead and says, “Thanks, kitten.” Then he slaps me on the ass. “Get undressed and get into bed. I’ll join you in a minute.”

I shake my head at his back as he walks into the bathroom. Relaxed Cole is just as intoxicating as intense Cole.

Doing as he said, I strip off my pajamas, then crawl under the covers, waiting for him to get back. On his return, he pauses at the door, head tipped to the side, taking in the shape of me under the blanket. His gaze travels up to my face and his eyes lock on mine with an intensity that steals my breath. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but I can’t read his expression, and before I know it, he’s striding across the room, lifting the covers, and sliding into the bed.

“Roll over,” he says.

I turn so my back is toward him, and he pulls me against his chest, draping his arm over my waist and pinning me to him. I wait with bated breath for his hand to start roaming, but it doesn’t. Instead, he splays it over my stomach and presses a kiss to the top of my head. Barely a handful of seconds later, his breaths deepen and he’s sound asleep.

My thoughts whirl around my head. We’ve never slept together without having sex first. Does this mean he’s feeling the same way I am? Hope blooms in my chest, and I lightly trace my fingers over the back of his hand. It’s too soon to start imagining a future where we might spend more and more nights curled up like this. Unfortunately, my heart isn’t listening to those words of wisdom.

It’s too busy beating in time with his.

MY EYES DRIFT OPEN the next morning, the numbers on my bedside clock coming into focus. Five-thirty a.m. What woke me so early? I flash back to last night, remembering Cole falling asleep behind me, and the last of the fog clears from my mind. I roll over and look for him, but apart from me, my bed is empty. Did I only dream him being here? Before disappointment can hit too hard, a noise filters through my bedroom door. I sit up, clutching my blanket to my chest.

Another sound reaches me. Is Cole still here and doing something in the kitchen? I climb out of bed and pull my short, silky robe over my naked body, tying it loosely before heading out of the room.

My feet stall, and my heart does a little flutter in my chest. Cole is standing at the counter with his back to me, wearing just his boxer briefs, while the early morning light illuminates his muscular body. Bowls, spoons, and various ingredients are spread on the surrounding countertop, and he’s peering intently at his phone, which is propped against a cookie jar.

He’s making breakfast.

Tears prick the backs of my eyes. It’s a ridiculous reaction to someone making a meal, but this is Cole. He spent the night in my apartment—just sleeping, not screwing me blind—and now he’s doing his best to make what I think might be pancakes. Any resistance to what I’m feeling disintegrates, drifting away like ash on the breeze.

I’ve fallen for him. Hard.

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest as I watch him try to crack an egg into the bowl, swearing under his breath as bits of shell go with it.

I never thought I could love a man like him, but I do. Because he’s not a man like him. No, that doesn’t make sense. I give my head a slight shake, trying to sort through the chaotic rush of thoughts and emotions tumbling through me.

Cole is so much more than the cold, arrogant billionaire he shows the world—that he showed me when we first met. I labeled and classified him in my head and told myself I had to be careful with my heart around him. Just like Mom should have been careful with my dad. But I’ve seen the man beneath the façade now. A man who is as real and vulnerable and flawed as anyone else. And yes, a man just as capable of getting eggshell in his pancake batter.

I walk forward as quietly as I can, and he’s so absorbed in watching what the person on the screen is doing, he doesn’t notice me until I do something I wouldn’t have considered a few weeks ago. I slide my arms around his waist and press myself against his back.

He actually jumps. “Fuck. You scared me.”

I press my cheek against his warm skin. “Are you making pancakes?”

“Trying to,” he grumbles, and I can’t help but laugh.

He throws down the spoon and turns in my arms, so that now he has me against his chest. He looks down at me, his brows furrowed. “The guy in the video makes it look so fucking easy. I’m going to call Jonathan and get him to pick up some—”

I shake my head and smile up at him. “No, you’re not. We’re going to make them together.”

His gaze traces over my face, dropping to my mouth, then to the open neck of my robe and back to my eyes. His rapidly growing erection tells me he likes what he sees.

He strokes his thumb over my jaw, his eyes sweeping over my face. “I didn’t fuck you last night.”

“You were exhausted.”

He nods. “I don’t sleep with women.”

My brows shoot up. “I think you’ve slept with plenty of women.”

He shakes his head, focusing on me again. “I’ve fucked women. I’ve never slept with any of them until you.”

I run my palm up and down his chest. “I’m glad you came here last night,” I say softly. “I’m glad you slept in my bed.”

He’s still watching me, and the hint of wariness in his eyes hurts my heart a little. He really has no idea how to handle this. Whatever this is now. I reach up and curl my hand around the back of his neck and tug him down to my waiting lips.

My heart does a little twirl when his mouth crushes against mine. I open for him, going up on my tiptoes to give him better access. He might have been too tired to fool around last night, but there’s no sign of that exhaustion now. His body is hard against mine, his groan vibrating into my mouth.

He runs his hands over my waist, then grips my ass, his fingers pressing into me, kneading me. Then they slide lower and he’s lifting me so I can wrap my legs around him and grind myself against his erection. “I fucking missed you. I missed this.”

“Me too,” I pant as he walks us back toward my bedroom.

In a demonstration of strength which has my arousal spiraling higher, he lowers me slowly to the bed. Then he stands tall, staring down at me where I lie sprawled on the mattress, my robe barely held to my body by the tie around my waist.

Cole’s hungry eyes move over me as a muscle tics in his jaw. He stares at me so long with that inscrutable expression on his face that I start to get nervous.

I sit up, but he shakes his head. “Lie down, Delilah.” The rasp in his voice has me pressing my thighs together, even as I comply.

As soon as I’m flat on my back again, he lifts the end of the tie around my waist and draws it slowly so that the knot falls open. Using his index finger, he flicks each side of my robe to the side, exposing me to the heat of his gaze.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, as if to himself, and my pulse flutters in my throat. I’m so gone for this man.

I don’t have time to dwell on my newly acknowledged feelings, because before I know what’s happening, he’s gripping me by the thighs and dragging me to the edge of the bed.

“Cole,” I gasp, but he ignores me, dropping to his knees and spreading my legs wider.

“Brace yourself, kitten. I’m not stopping until you’ve come at least three times.”