One Bossy Dare: Chapter 18

It’s been almost a week since my sushi date with Eliza, when I promised her I wouldn’t go three days without kissing her again.

Still, I get the nagging feeling she’s avoiding me.

If I’m being honest, she was distant, even that night.

She’s been all fucking distance since we came home from the island. Why?

It’s past nine o’clock when I head down to the lab.

Not only is she still working, she’s there alone, the other techs and supervisors long since ducking out for the day. She stands over a marble counter, measuring beans and mixing them with something I can’t see from here.

I walk up behind her, lock my arms around her waist, and kiss her neck like a man possessed.

“Kissing me at work? Very bold.” She relaxes into me with a soft laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“I promised I wouldn’t go three days without kissing you again, and I’m done with blue balls.” I kiss her neck again. “Come home with me tonight.”

She doesn’t turn toward me, but she doesn’t pull away either.

I watch as she carefully finishes dicing toasted coconut with my arms around her.

“You’ve got half an hour before security closes up for the night,” I remind her.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” She rolls her eyes. “Look, I won’t turn into a pumpkin at ten, if the coffee robbers outside don’t break in and steal me away first…”

“That’s another minute gone,” I say, tapping my watch.

Despite her smile, her eyes never leave her tiny strip of toasted coconut.

“Come the fuck home with me. It’s been too long. I miss you, and so does my cock.”

I feel her shudder deliciously in my arms.

She sets her knife down and turns to face me, but not with her usual enthusiasm. “Cole, where is this going?”

Oh, boy. Now I know I’m about waist-deep in shit.

“What do you mean?”

“A few days before you were Mr. Smith and we hid in a private room. You were ready to—” She does a faux deep voice and uses finger quotes now. “‘Handle HR and whatever else—’” She drops the fake voice and puts her hands down. “Then you needed two extra days before having dinner with me…I get it. I gave you an easy out.”

She’s not wrong.

Everything happened just like she says and I realize it’s worrying.

Still.

“What easy out?” I throw back.

“I told you, it was just a matter of time before someone found out about us, and you swore you didn’t care. Obviously, you do.”

“I’ll go to HR as promised. I just thought—”

“No, don’t apologize. I’m not angry,” she rushes out.

“You sure? You sound pissed.” I stare, trying to decipher the strange, conflicted look on her face.

She hugs herself with a heavy sigh.

“Cole, I’m sorry. I get overly emotional sometimes. It’s complicated—I get that—and I’m not upset with you.” She pauses, inhaling sharply. “Troy came to see me the other day. He told me he’s been worried about you and Destiny for years.”

What the hell? It’s bad enough that Troy runs his mouth more than he should with my daughter, but now my woman too?

“He’s right about that,” I clip. “I just don’t appreciate him having that talk with you before I get a chance.”

“Oh, no. He was totally polite. I was the one asking nosy questions, and he said I should talk to you when I asked too many.” She holds her hands up. “Look, I know you’ve never fully gotten closure with your wife’s suicide. I’m sure that’s why you don’t know what you want with me, and—”

“What did you say?” I cut her off.

I stop cold, arms folded, ice sweeping through my veins.

Her face falls. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I just—”

“Before that. Back the fuck up.”

“You never fully let go of, um, Aster…” Her voice is so small, and the word that’s missing—suicide—is almost deafening with its absence.

“Eliza, whatever the hell happened to her is none of your goddamn business. Understand?” I turn away from her.

I can feel her staring, but she’s too scared to say another word.

Shit.

I knew we’d need to touch on my past sooner or later, but not like this. It’s all coming out wrong and I’m angry, snarling at her like a wounded animal.

I look at her sad, wide eyes.

“It’s deeply personal, Eliza,” I try again. “I’m willing to discuss it without being ambushed like this. And for the record, Aster didn’t kill herself.”

Her chest rises and falls. “Okay. But Troy said—”

“Troy doesn’t know his ass from his mouth.” Fuck. Why the hell have they been talking about me? About Aster? And what the hell else has my supposed friend been feeding Eliza and Destiny? My blood feels like acid, burning me from the inside out. “Perhaps you’re right to be concerned. We’ve fallen too hard, too fucking fast.”

“Cole, no! I—”

She reaches for me, but I stiffen, holding up a hand.

“Don’t. And don’t talk to me about my dead wife again until I tell you some facts.”

Her lips tremble. She nods, but I see the way she quivers as she turns, how she wipes a hot tear from her cheek before she can speak.

“I…I know. I won’t. I shouldn’t have blurted it out. I knew you’d be hurt, and for good reason… But hearing you say it out loud makes it way more real.” She pauses, waiting for me to say more, to hug her, but I don’t.

The gulf between us feels a mile wide.

I loathe it.

I’d rather have a hole in my head.

“Well…if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish,” she whispers.

I glance at my watch. “You can’t be here after security changes over. It’s against policy now. You have less than fifteen minutes to clean up.”

“Oh, so we care about corporate policies now?” Hurt sarcasm drips from her voice.

“I won’t have you or anyone else here alone past ten. You know that,” I say coldly.

“And I’d rather not have you in this lab at all, but here you are.”

My fingers form a fist, and I bang it softly against my thigh. I just can’t stop the train wreck rolling out of my mouth.

“Why do you have to be so goddamned difficult?” I growl.

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re distracting me from my job. It’s after hours and I’m tired. Please just—get out. Get out of my workspace.”

It’s surreal, watching yourself fuck everything up without an easy way to un-fuck it.

“Don’t make this personal,” I whisper. “It’s a simple safety precaution. If something ever happened to you…” I pause, inhaling air that scalds my lungs. “I’d never forgive myself. Never, Eliza.”

“What difference does it make? You shouldn’t have let me in, remember?”

Fucking hell.

The worst part is knowing this wretched case of foot-in-mouth disease was so preventable.

Before I do more damage, I storm out of the lab.

Tom waits for me patiently with the car, and I throw myself inside of it without another word.

Amazingly, tonight’s blue balls are the least of my worries.

I should’ve known better than to get mixed up with an employee.

I damn well should’ve known better than to reconnect with old friends.

Why the fuck did Troy have to squawk about Aster at all? When the sensation to stab him in the throat slightly fades, I call him from the back seat Bluetooth setup.

“Cole? It’s late, man, what’s up?”

“Are you still up?” I bite off.

“Yeah…what’s up?”

“Meet me at my house ASAP. It might take me a few minutes to get there. I’m leaving the office now.”

“Okay, sure. No problem. Is everything okay? You sound really—”

“Just come, Troy. We’ll discuss it then.”

Thirty minutes later, I overfill two large glasses with brandy and hand one to Troy.

He sits on my black leather sofa in an oversized island shirt with a blank expression. His usual shitty grin was wiped off his face the moment he stepped through the door.

I could smell the stink of whisky on him, and it brings me some small pleasure to know I tore him away from the bar downtown and his next hookup tonight.

Still, he gives me that kicked puppy look I hate when I hand him his damn drink.

“Cole…I’m sorry I let too much slip. I didn’t mean to tell her point blank that Aster killed herself, and I definitely never expected her to hassle you about it.”

My eyebrows go up sharply.

“…it’s your business. Family business. I get it. I really screwed the pooch and I’m sorry.” He hangs his head, staring into his drink.

Am I being too hard on him?

He’s never been anything but supportive since the night he saved me from a knife fight in Manila on leave. If he hadn’t been there to drag my drunk ass away from four nasty guys I’d gotten into an argument with, I might’ve never had Aster or Destiny or Eliza to worry about at all.

There’s also no denying how strange Aster’s end was, how it’s given me nothing but questions.

I sigh, rolling my shoulders.

“Whatever. It’s not your fault,” I mutter, taking a pull off my drink. “It’s not even Eliza’s. I should’ve laid my cards out before anything happened with her.”

Sympathy shines in his eyes. “Man, you just need to open up with her. Have a heart-to-heart. Tell her the truth without holding anything back.”

“I can’t.”

Troy gulps his brandy and sets the glass down with a thunk.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know the fucking truth after all these years, Troy.” I throw back my brandy, waiting for the fireball in my gut before I ask, “You want another round?”

He hands me his empty glass.

“Fill me up. And Lancaster, you know the truth, you heartbroken asshole. You just don’t want to admit it.”

I sigh again as I refill our glasses, sloshing booze on the table and not caring.

“I’ve been thinking about it constantly ever since we came home. Destiny brought back this turtle necklace she took from her mom’s room. Thing is, it’s driving me crazy. I’ve never seen it before, but Dess is convinced I bought it for Aster on our last trip there. It’s the only explanation that makes sense, but I just can’t take credit for jewelry I can’t remember. How fucked up is that?”

“You don’t remember?” He squints at me, his silver eyes flickering in the shadows.

I hand him his glass and down mine.

“I’ve tried like hell. Maybe I blanked it out,” I say bitterly.

He throws back his brandy and leans forward. “I was with you, Cole. It was the first day on the island, the last time we were all there. We stopped at that little farmer’s market that rolled into town, remember?”

“…I don’t remember shit. We did?” I rack my brain, trying to pull up any hint of what he’s describing.

“Yeah!”

“Maybe I’m too drunk.” I shake my head. “I can’t even remember going into town that day.”

“We stopped for snacks. It was just you and me. Aster, I think she was giving you hell about something—”

“That part I believe. She was always up my ass about something. My drinking, my eating, my work habits, my not spending every waking hour with Destiny when she agreed to watch her, et cetera.”

He grins knowingly. “Ain’t that the truth! You were too good to her. Whatever the hell else you don’t remember, I hope you still know that. You bought her that necklace at this pop-up jewelry place next to the shaved-ice stands. I think it was a couple traveling artists selling their stuff. They came over from Maui—Lahaina or some place. The necklace jumped out at you with all that intricate detail and you grabbed it on a whim. You thought it might smooth things over…”

It’s believable enough, but my memory is a hole.

“Did it work?” I ask grimly.

He shrugs. “Yeah. She loved it, man. For like ten minutes…”

We both chuckle.

“Fuck. I feel bad for laughing,” I say, pressing my fingers into my sore eyes. Guilt and brandy are a potent combination.

Troy nods slowly.

“It’s hard, because she’s gone, but that doesn’t change what she did while she was here. You did your best, Cole, I know you did. It takes tough stuff to handle a woman like her and—and she’s gone now,” he whispers, staring at his glass. “Listen, you only get one life. I’m not sure you should spend the rest of it mourning what happened to Aster ten years ago. It was horrible—don’t get me wrong—it was fucking tragic. It changed your life and Destiny’s forever, no question. I’m not suggesting you should have just bounced back like snapping your fingers. But now…now when you’ve got this pretty little thing who looks at you like you just hung the stars…don’t you think maybe it’s time to let it go?”

For a moment, I’m quiet, rolling his words over.

“Don’t know. I’ve never been fully convinced Aster killed herself, honestly. And I know it wasn’t an accident.”

He shakes his head sharply, his friendly smile gone.

“Cole, that’s crazy talk. How do you know?”

I stroke my thumb over my chin.

“During my entire marriage, did you ever see Aster going on wild adventures at night? She knew how choppy the waters could get after sunset. She’d never walk up the cliffs like they thought she might’ve done. She saw them a thousand times and swam off that beach plenty of times during the daylight. She wouldn’t sneak out on a spontaneous nighttime swim without telling anyone. It just didn’t happen.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” he says slowly. “But why don’t you think it was a suicide? Nothing else makes sense. It wasn’t just a crazy night walk if she had a purpose…”

I grab the bottle. “Another round?”

“Why not? This is heavy shit.”

I fill our glasses again, hating that I need a lot more than three glasses to drown the constant aching mystery in my head.

“I don’t know how to say this. Any way I phrase it, it’s going to sound shitty. I feel horrible because she’s dead, and I’m not trying to be disrespectful,” I say. “But think about the story you just told me. And I didn’t even remember that one.”

“The necklace?”

I nod, throwing back my drink and enjoying the fire in my gut.

Troy takes half his drink, too, and starts coughing at the end. I wonder if we’ve both had enough.

“What’s that got to do with Aster offing herself?” he asks.

“Nothing. Except, people who are suicidal are usually convinced other people are better off without them. Does it sound like she cared about anyone else being better off? I remember the day before she died on that trip. We stopped off for a plate lunch in town and she talked nonstop about starting her new designer soap business. She wanted me to pull some strings to have a new LLC and production line set up the following week. I just wanted to enjoy my damn kalua pork with Destiny laughing on my lap, and instead I got a goddamned business meeting.”

Troy laughs. “I thought you didn’t remember anything?”

“I don’t. Barely. But I remember how every other day of married life went down with the same basic script. Not my point, though. Does that sound like a woman done with life? And convinced everyone around her would be better off with her gone?”

He finishes his shot slowly, nursing it like a cup of coffee.

“Hell, I don’t know. Maybe she thought it was the only way out…”

“Out of what? Being married to me? Believe me, if she’d asked for a divorce, I wouldn’t have contested it. Not that I was ready to give up—I always swore I’d go down fighting for us,” I tell him.

“So, if you don’t believe it was an accident and you don’t think she killed herself…what are you suggesting?”

“I don’t fucking know, Troy.”

That’s just it.

The only other option is foul play, and I can’t see anyone killing her.

“Not a lot of other options,” Troy says matter-of-factly.

“I know. And you’re right that I owe Eliza the truth. About as much as I owe it to myself to find some closure.” I pause, letting my words sink in. “Only, how do I even give her the truth without knowing it?”

“You’ll never know what happened that day. When someone dies abruptly like she did, that’s how it goes. The only person who knows is gone. And man, pardon me if this sounds cold, but does it matter?”

My eyes snap to his. “What do you mean?”

“If you find out what happened, will it bring her back?”

“No.” I sigh. “Hell no.”

“Right. So, either way, all you can do is move on. Count your blessings. You’ve found a great girl who adores you and loves your kid. You want my advice? Don’t blow it because you’re all twisted up in something that happened almost ten fucking years ago.”

“I hired a private investigator. As soon as I have the answers—and closure—I’ll tell her everything. I just don’t feel like I can until I know for myself.”

For a second, he stares at me blankly.

“A PI? Sounds like a big waste of money,” he snaps, staring past me and shaking his head violently.

Not what I was expecting.

“What? Why?”

“Because. How many times does it need to be investigated, dude? The police did their legwork when the evidence was fresh. Now, it’s ancient history. What do you think you’re gonna find?”

“I get it. Turning up anything new seems unlikely. If the PI comes back with the same theory the cops did, I’ll accept it. If they don’t…then I guess I’ll have to decide who to believe. I always felt like there was too much chaos after she died, and maybe the case was closed too fast.”

“Cole, you were grieving. If they told you anything besides, ‘Sorry, wrong Aster Lancaster. Your wife is safe at the Kona Community Hospital,’ you wouldn’t have believed it. You weren’t ready to hear it,” he says sharply.

Is Troy right?

I wanted out if we couldn’t fix what we had, but I never wanted Aster dead.

I never wanted to watch Destiny pick at meals for a year because she was waiting for mommy to come for dinner.

I never wanted to wake up at three a.m. in a cold sweat. Day after day after goddamned day because Destiny had another night terror and was screaming. Another dream where a shadow man was taking mommy away.

“Maybe so,” I tell him. “Still, I want a second opinion to put this whole thing behind me, and as you pointed out, I haven’t managed to do that yet.”

“Jesus, yeah. Can I have another hit?”

I find the bottle and fill his glass again.

He knocks back his drink, his throat working, and slams it on the coffee table in front of us.

“If you think it will help, whatever. Go for it. But as a friend—I think it’s only going to help if you’re willing to accept it this time with no more questions. And if you’re willing to do that, you could just read the police report again and save yourself the time.”

“I want a new report. Also, I’m drunk and tired. I need sleep, Troy. Should I call you a ride or are you crashing here?”

“Call the ride.” He refills his own glass and downs another shot, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I’ve got to get the hell out of here. Big call with the team in Brazil tomorrow.”

I nod and summon Troy a car by app. We don’t talk much, even though I try to wait up with him until it arrives.

By the time it shows up and he slips out, I never hear it.

I’m so drunk and tired I pass out on the couch.

I linger at the office the next day, long after any sane person would be gone, and finally drag myself down to the lab.

If she’s not there, I’ll go to her apartment.

I have to see her.

I have to fix this.

I can’t let it fester like an open wound in my heart.

Of course, she’s there.

Eliza stands over a pot on the grill, her chestnut curls pulled up in a bun, stirring her brew with a contemplative focus.

“Can we talk?” My voice echoes through the empty lab like a cave.

She glances at me over her shoulder. “Whatever. It’s your company.”

She turns her head back to her work like I’m not even there.

Shit. Nobody ever said swallowing your own ego was easy.

“Eliza, I was a jackass,” I say, stepping forward.

“I know. I’ve got a new brew, though. Would you like a taste, Mr. Lancaster?”

I’d like a taste, all right, but not of that stupid coffee.

I’m also not sure what she’s playing at with this non-response.

“Sure,” I say cautiously, stopping near her side.

I wait while she ladles it into a small cup and passes it over. “Let me know how you like it. It’s a Hawaiian blend with sixty percent Kona beans, forty percent Sumatra. For the next Wired Cup line, theoretically, though I’m not sure if that’s economical.”

I blow on it for a second and take a drink.

As usual, what starts as a flavorful cup of joe explodes across my tongue, revealing delicate layers of macadamia nut, coconut, and something fruity.

“Good. It’s not as delicate as the peaberry blend, but it definitely tastes like Kona.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She kills the grill, picks up the pot, and walks across the lab to the sink.

I follow her. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Make what easy, Cole? I don’t even know what you’re doing here if it isn’t checking out the latest products.”

“I came to apologize,” I growl. Isn’t it obvious?

“I’m listening.” She dumps the coffee without looking at me.

“I hate that I freaked out on you, and I’m sorry. Aster’s death is a sore spot. There are still a lot of questions about what happened then, and part of the reason I haven’t told you much about it is because I’m not even sure what I know. I hired a PI recently—”

“When?” She faces me for the first time since I walked in, her eyes slits.

“When we were in Hawaii,” I say flatly.

She frowns, her face screwing up with confusion.

“Jesus. Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Don’t know what you mean by that. I planned to tell you everything as soon as I had the right answers. Hell, I made peace with that before our flight back.”

Her face relaxes. “Well, thank you. When were you planning on having this conversation?”

“Not soon enough, obviously. Eliza, it’s no excuse for how I talked to you yesterday—”

“You’re right. It’s not, but that’s not even what I’m upset about.”

I cock my head, staring at her, unsure where she’s going.

“I told you I wasn’t mad,” she says with a sigh. “You lost your wife. Tragically. People don’t just do a cartwheel and bounce back from that. But I—” She turns her head away from me. “I fell for you hard, Cole. Like really hard. I’m not mad at you when it’s not your fault—but I can’t just be a rebound.”

“Rebound?” I spit the putrid word. “Eliza, you are not my fucking rebound.”

She meets my eyes. “But you’re not over her or the past. You still have one foot stuck there, and one in the present. Any relationship you have like that feels doomed to be a rebound…”

“So you’re a relationship shrink now? Didn’t see the medical degree on your resume.” I snort, shaking my damn head. But she’s still staring at me with those wide, glistening brown eyes as soft as melted chocolate. “You remember the hammock?”

“Like I could ever forget,” she whispers.

“I asked you to trust me. I promised not to let you fall. I was as good as my word, wasn’t I?”

She nods slowly, rinsing her pot.

“It was lovely, but I don’t see your point,” she says. With her back turned, she walks over to the grill and dismantles it, putting her tools away.

“We’re on a hammock now, Eliza. I need you to trust me again. I promise you I’ll drop off a cliff before I ever let you fall.”

She looks at me with her lips drawn tight.

“You’re on a hammock, Cole. I’m walking a tightrope with you.”

Damn.

My jaw tenses and I work my brain, trying to find the right combination of words to patch what was once such a happy road we tread together.

“If the hammock broke, what do you think would’ve happened?” I ask.

“We would have hit the rocky ground and it would have sucked.”

“For me, yeah. I had you positioned so you’d land on me if anything collapsed. I wouldn’t have let you get hurt—I would’ve taken the blow—and it’s the same now.”

“Go ahead then,” she says quietly.

I sigh. “I know I fucked up. I shouldn’t have gone off and made you feel like an outsider, an intruder, whatever. You’re nothing close to that. You’re way too important. Anything that matters to Destiny and me matters to you, sweetheart. And I hope anything that matters to you also matters to me.”

“And the hiding? The Mr. Smith fake out?”

“I’m going to HR next week as promised. You’re right. I told you I’d handle it, and I’ll make good on my word. But if I have a talk with HR, can you handle a conversation with me?”

She bites her bottom lip.

“I enjoy conversations with you very much. You know that.”

I hold my arms out, waiting. She walks into them and I close them around her, swallowing a possessive growl as I inhale her scent.

“You smell goddamned glorious,” I blurt out. “And I missed you like hell. You can’t ever do this to me again.”

When she finally smiles up at me, I relax for the first time, relieved that there’s the slightest chance I haven’t ruined this beautiful thing we’re meant to be.

“I missed you, too. And I’m sorry.” She tilts her chin and stares up at me, so fragile I hate myself more for ever hurting her.

Growling, I meet her lips, taking her little mouth hard.

She melts into me, running her tongue across the seam of my lips. I deepen the kiss with heat pulsing in my veins, begging me to reclaim her body and never, ever let go.

Eliza holds on tight as her body fuses to mine.

When my hand skims down her ass, squeezing a handful of luscious woman, she pulls away from me and sucks in a ragged breath.

I savor it, seeing how sweetly messy she looks as she stumbles back.

Goddamn, I’ve missed this—her feel, her taste, her weight in my arms—as much as I’ve missed the scorching kisses and screaming red sex.

“Cole?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” I embrace her again, stroking her hair.

“Umm—you know all of those invitations I didn’t take you up on?”

I chuckle. “Are you trying to tell me you want to come home tonight?”

“…what I mean is, I’ve just missed you. And this.” She smiles, her hand caressing my thigh for a hot second before her fingers brush the bulge in my pants.

My cock snaps to attention, pulling like an angry animal.

“Eliza, come home,” I whisper in her ear.

“I don’t want to be away from you,” she whispers, more breath than words. “But there’s something you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t need an invitation with me. With this. You’re always welcome.”

“Yeah?” My hand roams her ass again.

I fight the urge to push my hand between her legs right here. If I ripped aside her panties now, I know I’d find her soaked.

“Yeah. I’m exhausted, so let’s get out of here, but kiss me one more time first?”

How could I ever refuse?

She doesn’t give me a chance, though. Eliza comes up on her toes, pressing her mouth against mine with so much urgency it boils my blood.

Her little tongue sweeps mine, teasing and soft, tempting the beast inside me to snap its chain.

When we finally leave the lab, we do it hand in hand and mouth in mouth, intermittently slamming each other against the wall as we make our way to the nearest exit.

The town car waits for us outside.

We slide into the back seat, and I pull her into my lap, pushing my hand up her skirt and flicking her panties aside.

“I promised not to let you get hurt. You said you trusted me, right?” My thumb finds her clit and the pressure comes.

She tenses, moaning breathlessly. I don’t move in circles until she nods.

“I need a promise, too,” I whisper, pushing two fingers into her drenched pussy while my thumb quickens its pace around her clit.

“Whatever, yes. Whatever you want,” she says quickly, her eyelids fluttering.

“If you’re going to be in that lab until closing time, you text me so I can pick you up. So I can have this.” I’m snarling as she starts grinding against me, her pussy so needy, begging for her first release of many tonight.

My cock feels like a loaded gun. My pulse roars in my ears so hard it drowns everything else out.

Tonight, I am going to fuck this girl like I’ve never fucked anyone.

Right after I’m done dragging her through this orgasm for the next ten city blocks.

She doesn’t answer, but her eyes search mine through her lust as my hand works her toward heaven.

“You never go home without me after dark,” I say, well aware of how insane I sound. “If something happens to you—I just need you to trust me, Eliza.”

Her lips are on mine again, silencing me, banishing those dark, horrible memories of identifying Aster’s pale, cold body.

She explores my mouth with a whimper.

Her nails dig at my shoulders as she rears up, all the better for my fingers to fuck her, and this time when she breaks away it’s only to nibble my neck.

It’s all she can manage before I pinch her clit with the pressure I know she loves.

Before her mouth drops open and she bites my shoulder to hold in a scream.

Before I struggle not to shoot off in my pants as her pussy tenses around my fingers, and then she’s grinding out her pleasure, panting, my head pressed back against the seat.

Before my entire world condenses into nothing but her cries and the hot, slick heat of her ecstasy on my hands.

“Goddamn, little girl,” I whisper through clenched teeth. “Get it all out right here. Come with all the ways I’ve screwed you up. Come for me.”

And she does it so beautifully it hurts me to the bone.

It takes all the strength I have to let her fall against my lap for the last ten minutes back to my place. Somehow, I settle her on my lap, flicking her skirt back down, holding her still in my arms.

“As pleasant as that was, I need an answer,” I whisper.

“I trust you.”

“You can’t change your mind if we get into another fight or even break up,” I warn, tilting her chin up with the same two fingers that were just inside her.

Her smile looks like it was stolen from a dream. “Cole, if I’m fighting with you…why would I want you to stay with me?”

“I’ll have security bring you home for those times I piss you off,” I growl. “Because I will, sooner or later, like the demented water buffalo I am.”

She laughs and I can’t help but smile. “If you ever fight with me again like that, you’re not going to have to worry about what happens.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll string you up like a piñata. A big water buffalo piñata full of chocolate-covered espresso beans.” Her tongue flicks out, teasing and so tempting to bite.

“Big talk, brat. I’ll take that as a sign you can handle a little tough love tonight,” I rasp, devouring her with another kiss that takes my whole soul.