Page 143 of Blush Crush

I try to keep my expression even and unaffected, but I can't help the tinge of doubt that curls under my skin. Obviously we have not been together long enough for marriage to be on the table, but I'd like to think it's a possibility. That maybe one day it would be on the table.

Cole has taken me by surprise in lots of ways during our short time together. But marriage is a much bigger commitment than dating. More permanent. And he might never want it.

Pushing my thoughts on the matter to the furthest my mind will allow, I try my best to move on from it. Marriage and whatever comes after it is a conversation for another day.

We have plenty of time. No need to rush things.

Cristina puts on a tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes and quietly exhales a defeated breath as a tinge of awkwardness enters the atmosphere around us. "You're right," she says evenly. "But you're not getting any younger."

He groans, his head flopping back as he mutters a curse.

It's clear she just wants her son to be happy but Cole sees it as some kind of personal invasion. An expectation he's not meeting.

Meanwhile his Wela hasn't left the small dance floor, enjoying herself, and I think we'd all be a lot happier if we took a page out of her book instead.

"Want a little tour before dinner starts?" he asks me, his gaze desperate.

My eyes scan the group, in case anyone would take offense if we slipped away for a bit, but no one seems to mind, or really be paying attention.

"Sure."

Cole's version of a tour is more like dragging me upstairs to his office. He snicks the door shut as soon as we're inside, resting his back against it. "I'm sorry about my mom. I told you how she is but I'm sorry if she made you uncomfortable."

I shrug, leaning on his desk. I don't want to think about the conversation right now. And based on Cole's expression, he doesn't either. "Moms can be like that. It's really not a big deal."

Neither one of us bothered to turn on the light, leaving us shadowed with the bright March sun filtering through the slats of the closed blinds.

We're silent for a beat. Cole still at the door, me still against his desk, our stares welded even from across the room.

"Croissant," Cole says finally.

I let out a breathy laugh. "You're supposed to say that downstairs. Not when it's just us."

He raises his shoulder casually, a wolfish grin spread across his face. "I'll remember that for next time."

"So this is your office?" I ask, my eyes bouncing around the walls. It's not particularly unique. Generic art and a few awards hung on the walls. No pictures. Nothing personal.

"Yeah. What do you think? Kind of basic, huh?"

My hand runs along the dark mahogany wood at my hip. "I like your desk," I offer.

He lavishes his gaze over me. "You should sit on it."

"What?" I giggle. "Why?"

His hand reaches behind him and twists the lock on the door handle before he crosses over to me. "Sit on the desk, Ariana."The rough timbre of his voice has excitement mounting at the apex of my thighs, and I find my body moving on his command before I've given it permission to do so.

My bottom meets the flat surface of his desk, the wood cool enough to feel through the thin fabric of my dress.

Cole erases the space between us in a single stride and my legs part of their own volition. He wastes no time wedging himself between the V of my thighs as his hands gather the hem of my dress and slide it up past my knees. The tips of his fingers continue their journey until I feel them skim the fabric of my panties.

"Is it bad that it turns me on to have the sweet little doll of the Ledger family sitting on my desk with her legs spread and pussy drenched, about to get fucked by the competition?"

His words light a fuse within me, heat unfurling with each passing second.

The forbiddenness of his claim, no matter how exaggerated, stirs to life something untamed. Something wild. It scratches this deep-rooted itch that's always existed but I've been too afraid to indulge in. The desire to not be such a good girl. To be naughty.

I bite down on my bottom lip to quiet the needy sound gathered in my throat but it slips out the moment Cole drags a finger over the lace covering the split of my pussy.