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And that hurts.
I step into my room and close the door, leaning against it before taking a sip of the coffee Ezra made me for the first time. A groan works its way out of my chest. “Damn, that is good.” I take another sip and then bring the cup with me into the bathroom, where I flick on the shower and wait for the water to heat as I brush out my hair, drink my caffeine and undress.
I’ll probably need to take another shower after any training, but the flow of water over my skin always calms me, Normally I’d go for a swim, but I’m not sure if Ezra’s house has a pool, and I likely don’t have the time for that, anyway, so a shower will have to do.
I gulp the last of my coffee and step into the steaming stream, trying to let some of the tension out of my shoulders.
By the time I’m clean, I’m relatively more calm, less hurt, and more understanding of their position. We all have secrets. We all have things we’d rather not share. I can’t begrudge them that. I just wish it didn’t always feel like they’re on one side and I’m on another.
We’re supposed to be a team. They keep telling me that’s what we are, that we’re together in this, but it rarely feels like that.
I guess I could be an adult about this and tell them that, but I’m not sure that it would help. They’ll still have things they can’t tell me or they don’t want me to know. And it’s not like I can quote Eleven fromStranger Things—friends don’t lie—and have them suddenly tell me everything.
The world doesn’t work like that. Not in the slightest.
I wrap a huge fluffy towel around my body, using a corner to pat at my face as I step into my bedroom. Movement catches my attention and I just manage to keep hold of my covering as a body collides with me. A hand slams over my lips, stifling the scream that works its way out of my chest, while an arm that feels like iron bands around my shoulders, pinning my hands between my boobs and my attacker’s broad chest.
“Shhh, wildcard, it’s me,” he murmurs against my damp temple. “Its me.”
The fight goes out of me. Anger replaces fear as I glare up at Cohen. His hand is still firmly over my mouth, not letting me say anything. He smirks down at me, his icy green eyes not so icy. Instead, they’re burning with desire. I try to keep my body from responding, forcing arousal down and replacing it with indignation that I hope he can see in my eyes.
He chuckles. “You are so mad at me right now. It’s adorable.” I make some kind of disgruntled noise and his smile grows. “If I remove my hand, are you going to yell at me?”
I nod my head without hesitation. He laughs again, pauses for a moment and then eases his hand from my lips, sliding it until he’s cupping the back of my head, almost like he’s going to kiss me. My gaze drops to his full lips just briefly before I’m back to glaring at him.
“Are you fucking nuts?” I shout at him, before he can get any ideas about making this a sexy moment between us. That will never happen. “What are you doing here? And why would you grab me like that? And what the hell are you thinking?”
His arms tighten on me. “I’m here because you asked me to come. I grabbed you because I hadn’t had time to set up a silencing spell before you walked in here,naked,I might add, and I didn’t want you to scream the house down and bring your boyfriends running. And I’m thinking I’d really like to see you without this towel wrapped around you.”
There is no denying what he means. The low growl of his voice is enough to tell me, but I can also feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing into my stomach. The flood of heat between my legs is unwelcome and disturbing.
There is no reason why I should be so damn attracted to this man. Especially after heattacked me in the woods and kidnapped me.Sure, it wasn’t even for a full hour, and it was so he could have an honest conversation with me, but it was still an attack.
Then again, the four men downstairs have been just as bad, probably more so, and I don’t feel bad about wanting them. Why is my attraction to someone who tried to help me, who took care of me when they could, bad?
“It’s my room. Why shouldn’t I be naked in it?” I sigh and shake my head, trying to pull my focus away from the throb between my legs. “You couldn’t have warned me you were coming?” Dammit, my voice is far too husky.
He bends and places his plush lips against my shoulder, not kissing, just hovering there. “I did. You didn’t respond. Seems someone left their phone in their room this morning.”
I shiver as his breath ghosts over my skin, his fingers tighten in my hair. My head tips back, like I’m inviting him to more of my body. “Did you put a spell on me?” I murmur, my palms flatten themselves against him, smoothing over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. “To make me feel like this?”
He shakes his head. A low chuckle puffs over my collarbone. “No, wildcard. This is just you and me.” The hand on my back loosens its grip, slides up and then hooks into my towel, while he opens his mouth and sucks on the skin of my neck.
A low whimper emerges from my chest as he pulls the towel off my body and I just let him do it.Why?Why would I do that?
But when his big hand slides down over my skin to palm my ass while his mouth drags up to my lips, I lose all sense of self and tighten my grip on him. He doesn’t start with a soft kiss, doesn’t ease me into it. No, his tongue is there immediately licking into my mouth, dominating me, taking what he wants. He tastes like apples and cinnamon and I don’t know how in the world he did that, but it’s intoxicating, and I want more.
My hands slide up his body until my arms wrap around his shoulders and I’m on my tiptoes, trying to push closer to him. Fire ignites along my skin. Anywhere he touches, my body burns in the best way.
He must feel the hard buds of my nipples poking into his chest, and if he slides his hand just a little lower on my ass, until his fingers are between my legs, he’d feel how wet I am. It’s practically dripping out of me, coating my thighs.
“Fuck,” he moans against my lips. “Fuck, you feel better than I imagined.” He bends just slightly and then encourages my leg up and around his waist, until my needy clit presses against the zipper of his jeans, made harder by his cock straining into it.
We both groan. My other leg moves up of its own accord and Cohen supports my weight as I roll my whole freaking body against him, needing the friction on my nipples, my breasts, my clit.
He moves, carries me like I weigh nothing, hands gripping my thighs, as I grind against him, making both of us gasp and moan into each other’s mouths. He hasn’t moved from my lips, almost like now that he’s tasted me, he won’t ever leave them. Like he can’t get enough of me.
There’s a moment of weightlessness, followed by his bulk pressing me into the mattress, his hips settling between my thighs as we grind against each other.
