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He buried his face in her hair, felt her legs locking around his bac
k, and he took her slow and easy. Because the pleasure of it was enough to fight for, to die for.
How the hell had she managed to get past his defenses? And she had. Slid right through them and he hadn’t even known it. Until he touched her. Until she asked him to show her how to be bad. Then broke through the last of his control when she asked him to love her.
“So sweet. So tight,” he groaned against her neck, holding her to him, moving her on him. “God, Sair, what have you done to me?”
His arms tightened around her as he felt her juices gathering, slickening, easing his way even more as his hips began to move faster. Harder. He needed her. Needed more and more until he felt her gripping him tighter, hotter, and heard her cry out his name.
“Ethan!”
Her face buried in his neck, her pussy rippled around him, and he lost himself in her. For the third time that day, he poured himself into her. Growling. Groaning. Lost in the pleasure that burned like a supernova through his body, he spilled every ounce into her, and he knew. It wasn’t just his body he gave her. It was himself.
chapter 6
it was the mother of all fuckups.
Three days later, Cooper paced his attic, stared through the little window, and saw nothing. Fucking jack shit, and it was pissing him the hell off.
Sair had walked out on him. After he pumped inside her until he thought he was going to melt to the kitchen floor, she had all but run from him.
And what the hell had he done? Stood there. Like the fool he was, he just stood in the damned kitchen and watched her go, anger rising inside him as fast and as hard as lust had.
Two years she had lived here. Two fucking years. She had brought him chicken soup while he was healing from knee surgery. Baked him fucking cookies. Talked to his friends and knew things about him she shouldn’t have known. And fit him like a glove.
Hell, no woman had ever fit him like Sair did. And no woman had ever affected him as she did. He even missed her.
When was the last time he had ever missed any particular woman? He didn’t miss women. He made certain he didn’t get close enough to women to miss them. So why the hell was he missing Sarah?
Well, he’d had enough of it, that was for damned sure. He looked at the clock: He had to be at the bar in a few hours. He was dressed and ready to go. He just had to get Sarah ready to go.
As though he hadn’t heard the rumors of the dipshits in town hitting on her? She went to the grocery store every afternoon, everyone knew it. No less than three of the bastards had been seen coming on to her. So far, no one had mentioned her flashing that cute little dimple. He’d have been homicidal if they had. That dimple was his, by God.
And he was damned insane.
But that didn’t keep him from stomping down to the main level of the house, out the front door, and over to Sair’s little house.
He pounded on the door.
His arms crossed over his chest as she opened the door and stared back at him warily.
“What?” She didn’t seem hospitable.
Too damned bad.
He pushed his way in between her and the door frame, turning back to glare down at her.
She was wearing another of those damned high-neck dresses. He hated those bastards.
“Get dressed,” he ordered her. “We’re going out.”
“We are?” She closed the door, crossed her own arms over her breasts, and glared right back at him.
And that made him hard. His cock swelled in his jeans to dimensions he swore it had never attained before.
“Where exactly are we going?”
“To the grocery store first,” he informed her. “Then to the bar.”
