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His bottom lip pops out as he pouts. “Your boyfriend. Mom told me you kiss him.”
I shoot Lila a questioning look.
“That’s not exactly what happened.” She starts to stumble over her words. Looking down at him like he sold her out to secret agents, she says, “You said you were going to marry Story one day. I simply pointed out that she had a boyfriend. I didn’t say anything about kissing.”
Jake looks at Cooper with a slight scowl on his face. “Are you the boyfriend?” he asks with an air of protectiveness.
I try so hard not to laugh.
Cooper wraps his arm around my shoulder, and though he knows he has no competition, I appreciate that he’s ready to fight for me, even when it comes to a five-year-old. “I am.”
I can’t contain my laughter and finally let it out. Cooper holds out his hand to Jake, and they shake. “Story has told me a lot about you, Jake.”
“She has?” his eyes brighten.
“She has.” Cooper kneels so he’s eye level and engages with him. “She said you have a mean left arm when it comes to football.”
“I do. My coach says so.”
As a group, we start walking toward the parking lot. Lila hooks her arm with mine as we follow the boys, who we can overhear talking about everything from football to who’s the best character on Phineas and Ferb. Jake picks Doofenshmirtz. Cooper goes with Perry. Somehow, that works, and it’s endearing to watch them together.
Lila asks, “So New York or bust?”
“Not sure yet. I need to work out a few details, and we have his graduation party in Haywood next weekend.”
Her expression sours along with her tone. “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten.” She knows all about what happened on New Year’s Eve.
“Yet I can’t stop thinking about it.”
She rubs my arm. “It will be okay. You know what you’re getting into this time.”
I nod. When we reach the parking lot, I say, “Keep me on the schedule, okay?”
“No one’s replacing you just yet.” We hug once more, and then Cooper and I walk to his car.
“Cute kid,” he says.
“Yeah, he’s super sweet.”
Our hands come together like they always do, and when we reach the car, he asks, “My place or yours?”
“Let’s mix it up and celebrate at your apartment.”
29
Story
The chicken was good but not as good as Cooper’s mouth on my body. The tremors dwindle as I gasp until my breathing evens out.
His head pops up from between my legs, but his fingers still work their magic down there. “You’re ready for me,” he says, starting to crawl up my body.
“What makes you think that?” I tease and run my hands over the sweat glistening on his shoulders.
“I’ll give you a clue.” He kisses me, and though he wants me focusing on the taste of what we just did, the gentle prodding of his erection against my entrance has me leveraging his body for my own purposes—to feel him deeper inside me.
“Oh fuck, babe.” He pulls out, disbelief cinching his expression together. “What are you doing?”
“You feel so good,” I say, wanting to feel all of him with nothing between us. I’m a loose cannon, too turned on to think beyond this bed. I pull him closer, bobbing on the tip just ever so slightly. And he lets me, soaking in the sensation. I know he wants me just as badly, but he’s restraining himself. I whisper in his ear. “I want you, Cooper. So bad that my body aches for you.”
The five o’clock shadow has grown to a seven and scratches against my cheek when he slides his gaze to me. The dulcet, desperate groan reveals his struggle to fight between what we want and what’s sensible. He moves his arm up and strokes my cheek. “We can’t, Story. You’re not on the pill.”
“I just want to feel you. All of you.”
He kisses me again, our mouths clashing as he steals every one of my breaths away. He sinks into me, just a little more with caution, and then pulls out again. “That’s all you get for now.” And he calls me the tease.
“Just once.”
As he reaches for a condom, I lie here panting next to him while my body is left empty. Kissing each nipple upon his return, the energy sparks through me, and I try to wrap my legs around him. A smirk lies squarely on his face, but he still looks up and says, “Trust me, baby. Once won’t be enough,” he says pointedly. “But I promise to make you feel so good.”
I know he’s right, but I’m still fighting my traitorous intentions that have thrown caution to the wind. One feel of him bare and I could tell the difference. Is it wrong to crave that feeling? I push up on my elbows and face him again. “I’m getting on the pill next week. I have access to the university doctor until campus closes next Friday, and I’m going to do it.” The words come out as if they’re a threat.
