I eyed his bed again. For some reason, my overactive imagination had pictured a bunch of sex paraphernalia laid out and waiting for me, but of course, there wasn’t even a condom. Just Cole and his low lights and clean sheets.
He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me forwards again. I found myself between his legs, my crotch lining up with his face. He smirked a little, then scooted back, tugging me on top of him. Our faces were inches apart, my hands braced either side of his head. My heart beat a crazy tattoo. I swallowed, eyeing his mouth. I knew whatIwanted to do, but what if it was the wrong thing?
Cole saved me. He arched his elegant neck and captured my lips with his. We’d kissed a bunch of times by now, but lying on top of him with nowhere to hide, it felt different. Hotter. God. A thousand times hotter. My blood simmered and my nerves ached. Heat pooled in my groin, and I was powerless to the hardness growing in my jeans.
The urge to shift away battled the desire to press against Cole as tight as possible. Moving away won out, but Cole caught me. He gripped my hips and held me down, forcing me to feel the effect I was having on him through his thin cotton trousers. They had elephants on them. It struck me funny, and the most inappropriate laugh ever bubbled in my gut.
Cole pulled back, green eyes sparkling. “What are you laughing at?”
“I don’t even know. Trunk jokes, maybe?”
“Trunks?”
“Your trousers.”
“Oh.” Cole glanced down. “I can take them off?”
“What? No. I mean. Maybe. Fuck. Why did you have to say that?” The mere thought of what was beneath Cole’s trousers made me breathe so hard my head spun.
He laughed, but it was kind, and he made no move to slip the trousers down his sinful hips. He rolled over, shifting us both onto our sides. “Tell you what, how about one of us takes our shirt off?”
“Why only one of us?”
“Trust me, mate. Edging it out makes it so much hotter.”
I couldn’t imagine how anything about being with him could be hotter than this, but I trusted him. “Which one?”
“You choose.”
“You. I want to see you.”
The words were out of my mouth before the answer solidified in my brain.
Cole nodded and gestured for me to relieve him of his white tee. I grabbed it with embarrassing eagerness, but I didn’t care. I’d dreamt of this moment, even more than I’d dreamt of him fucking me, and it was the one fantasy that had seemed attainable.
I inched the soft cotton up his abdomen and chest, and finally over his head and shoulders. Pale skin greeted me. Soft hair, chakra tattoos, and sinewy muscles. I traced a circle of dark ink with my fingertip. Cole shuddered. Emboldened, I ghosted lower and brushed his nipple.
He chuckled. “See? Slow is the sweetest.”
I still didn’t know what that meant, but exploring his beautiful torso was going to take me a lifetime. And we had all night.
* * *
Cole
Simple things made Toby’s face light up, his cheeks flush, and his dark eyes blaze as he lay over me, running his hands over my chest.
No one had ever touched me like he did. With such fucking reverence. Hesitation and nerves faded, and it was clear he was enraptured by every tremble and gasp he drew from me.
And there were a lot. He quickly zeroed in on my weak spots and touched me there, over and over again. I shivered. “You’re good at this.”
“At what?”
“At reading me.”
His blush darkened. “Maybe you just have sensitive skin.”
“Or you have magic hands.” I knew one thing for certain: I had a sensitive dick. I’d been rock hard since he first laid his hands on me, and it waskillingme to hold back. I’d underestimated how difficult Toby would be to resist and overestimated the strength of my self-control. “You wanna take your T-shirt off?”