"I'm very good at seducing." He scooped me under my thighs and lifted me onto the kitchen island like I was a doll. Up here, his lips were more accessible. "I'm a little out of practice." He swept my hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck before he gently pressed his lips to the soft skin below my ear. I moaned, though I didn't mean to, and Cole's body—at least one part of his body—responded.
"Good," I sighed. "I'm a little out practice, too." I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my body into his. He was rock hard, and I found myself grinding my hips into his erection. The fact that we were both wearing thin pajamas meant that I felt every contour of his dick. I flashed back to my thoughts upon seeing him earlier today, pushing the stroller. Why were men with babies so fucking sexy?
He kissed his way down my neck and gently lowered me onto the countertop until I was fully reclined with my hair hanging over the edge. He lifted the hem of my shirt before pressing his lips to my soft belly and swirling his tongue into and around my navel.
I no longer had the body of the fifteen-year-old cheerleader my ex fell in love with or the twenty-one-year-old bride who spent months leading up to her wedding doing P90X workouts and cussing out her sister Tania for trying to tempt her with hush puppies from Cook Out. My ex-husband referenced that girl in too many of our arguments, but Cole didn't seem to care about chichos or stretch marks. His adoration of my body made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time. Cole's hungry kisses and desperate fingers made me feel desirable.
His head traveled below my belly button, and I gasped.
“Cole, what are you doing?” I asked as his lips traveled to places no one’s lips had been before.
“I told you I wanted to kiss you.” He shot me a mischievous smile and slowly stroked the skin under the elastic of my pajama pants, soothing the indentation marks of the waistband. “I didn’t say where I wanted to kiss you.”
"Oh," I whispered. "I thought you meant…" I trailed off and tucked my bottom lip between my teeth. He smiled, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to mine. Then he planted a kiss on my nose, then my cheek before tenderly sucking my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling. I moaned again.
“Well, now that you know what I meant, do you want me to stop?” he whispered in my ear.
My body pulsated heat in a current that traveled up and down my arms before it settled in the place where Cole was eager to visit. “No,” I half sighed, half moaned while shaking my head. His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “Don’t stop.”
“Good.” He let out a soft chuckle and began to make his way down my body, again hooking his fingers into the waistband of my pajamas and my panties, slowly pulling them over my thighs, ghosting a kiss or a lick on every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Because I’m just getting started.”
"Oh my God," I moaned. "You're torturing me." He was, but it was a delicious kind of torture. I writhed and wriggled on the countertop, helping him slide my legs out of my pants.
“I haven’t begun to torture you yet.” The palms of his hands slid over my knees and pushed them apart.
I gazed at him expectantly, still gnawing on my bottom lip. He lowered himself onto one of the bar stools. He'd succeeded at putting his mouth at just the right height tokissme. Leaning forward, he pressed his soft lips to my inner thigh, and I shuddered.
“You still with me?” he whispered.
My eyes were closed, my bottom lip was still tucked between my teeth, and I was practically panting. "Yes," I whispered while nodding, giving him the verbal confirmation he seemed to need. The soft cotton of his t-shirt brushed my inner thighs as he leaned in closer.
“Fuck, Lisa,” he whispered before I heard him inhaling the scent of my arousal. He dragged his tongue through my lips to separate them and wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking gently.
"Oh, Cole. Oh my God, yes." My moans echoed through the empty first floor of the house, I hoped I wouldn't wake the baby, but I couldn't stop myself from crying out.
His lips left my sex, ushering in a cool breeze, making me shudder. My eyes were still closed, and I was panting in anticipation. He slid a finger into my crevice, then two. I moaned again. He began twisting his fingers and feeling his way around, massaging me from the inside until I felt him rubbing a spot that made my body still.
I let out a low keening sound, and I knew I was primed for an explosion, and I'd never felt anything like this before. Cole began to swipe his thumb over my clit, slowly at first before picking up speed and intensity. My head lolled from side to side, and my moaning increased. I was silently begging CJ not to wake up because I was so fucking close. He increased the pressure on my clit, and three things happened at once. My back arched, I let out a deep guttural grunt, and my knee jerked up, making contact with something hard.
“Shit!” Cole and I screamed in unison.
“Oh my God, Cole,” I said in a sigh. “That was… Cole? Oh my God!”
Cole was still sitting on the bar stool with his hands covering his nose and mouth. He looked like he was in pain, and I realized that the hard something that my knee came in contact with was Cole's face.
I sat up, scooted myself back on the counter, and leaned forward, taking his face in my hands, inspecting the damage.
"I am so sorry. Oh my God. Are you okay?" I touched the side of his nose, and he winced. "You're bleeding. Let me get something…" My ass made a loud squeaking sound as I slid off of his countertop and began fluttering around his kitchen like a hummingbird.
Though he was bleeding and seemed to be in an immense amount of pain, his brain hadn't sent the rest of his body the message that we were in the middle of a medical crisis, and it was incredibly distracting. It was summer in New York, but in Cole's brownstone, it was definitely sweatpants season, and I was fighting to remain focused.
I gathered two dish towels: one was wet and one was wrapped around a Ziploc bag filled with ice. He was standing, leaning against the island, and holding his nose when I returned. I rose up on my tiptoes and tried to wipe his face.
“Um, you’re really tall. Would you mind sitting?” I asked.
He pulled up the bar stool and dropped into it. I stood between his legs and gently dabbed at his upper lip with the wet cloth. I was dying of embarrassment, and I felt terrible. This was definitely not the way I hoped this night would turn out. I felt even worse because I couldn't stop thinking about the mind-blowing orgasm I'd just had, right before I rewarded the person who gave it to me with a kick to the face.
I was trying to be as careful as I could while cleaning the blood off of Cole's nose and upper lip when, to my surprise, he started laughing. Then I thought about why I was dabbing his face with a damp rag at three in the morning, and I started laughing too.
