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She doesn’t need to claim me. She already owns me, body and soul. All I want is to please and protect her.
But that’s too much to put on a person I’ve only kissed once; too heavy for a girl who’s leaving me tomorrow. I don’t want Cocoa to leave here feeling guilty, like she led me on or something. Don’t want her to feel beholden.
She’s young. Beautiful. Smart and funny and carefree.
She deserves to go back out into the world and have more adventures. Not hide herself away in this cottage with a loner.
So I don’t say all the things I want to—I don’t stake a claim in return. Instead I hide my face in the crook of her neck, sucking and nibbling on the heated skin.
“Oh.” Cocoa gasps and squirms and tugs on my hair.
“Feeling sick yet?”
She smacks my shoulder, and I muffle my laugh against her cheek.
Our lips meet, and this time as we kiss, I’m not shocked. She’s not reeling. There’s only us, and our thudding hearts, and the rasp of the waves outside. The heat builds between us, lazy and molten, and the longer we kiss, the more weight I settle on top of her.
Not trying to squeeze the air out of her. But I need tofeelher, the dips and swells, the bony angles and the squishy bits. All of it. And most of all, I need the way she rubs up against me, sighing into my mouth. Need the tickle of her foot up the back of my thigh.
“I want you,” Cocoa breathes.
And I know what she means by that, but I can’t give it. Can’t do that with her, not once and only once, and hope to stay sane and whole.
There are other things, though. Things I could give her. Things I’d like to do.
Reaching between us, I splay one hand over her taut stomach. The green t-shirt is rucked up between us, creased into mad folds, and the heat of her skin scorches through the cotton.
“You gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” Her belly rises and falls against my palm. She’s breathing hard, her whole body working like a bellows. “Cocoa. Would you like that?”
“Y-yes. But…”
Crawling down her body, I pause. “But what?”
A blush spreads up her throat, and suddenly she won’t meet my eye. “I haven’t—haven’t shaved.”
There’s a beat. A long pause, where I wait for the real reason she’s nervous, but it doesn’t come. That’s really her big concern? Jesus. What does she take me for?
“Good,” I say shortly, shouldering my way between Cocoa’s legs. I flip the t-shirt up onto her belly and fix my hungry eyes on her bare sex, a pleased rumble sounding in my chest. “Now you’ll know I’m not some whiny jackass who wants a blow up doll instead of a real woman.”
She snorts. “Mac.”
“I’m serious.” Pulling her apart with my thumbs, I stare at the sweetest sight I’ve ever seen. She’s pink and glistening, and my mouth’s already watering. “You’re perfect as you are. Anyone who can’t see that is not worth your time.”
And it stings so badly to think of her with someone else—rips a hole inside of me—but the best distraction in the world is waiting for me. I duck down with a groan… and find heaven.
She’s sweet.
Salty.
Down here, Cocoa smells like soap and musk and the faint tang of sweat, and it’s good, so fucking good, so real and raw. Like I said, I don’t want some polished mirage—I wanther.The real her.
For one night only. That’s all I’ll get, right? And that deadline is not my wish, but it is reality.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I set to work… and I don’t stop until she rattles the cottage with her screams.
Seven
Cocoa
