Cole(30)

I felt his unspoken question, and I nodded. I was ready.

He grabbed my underwear and ripped them. One second later, he slid inside, and my entire body lifted in response. He paused, letting me adjust to him, before he began to move. And then everything changed. Sometime during the night, I claimed him as well.





My alarm was going off.

No.

My phone? Wait. No.

Slowly I came out of sleep. It was the elevator. Why was it ringing at—I twisted under Cole’s arms to see the clock—six in the morning?

Sia.

I bolted upright, but before I could say anything, Cole was out of bed. He pulled on his pants and reached for his shirt. I scrambled to join him.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

I shook my head. Last night—oh, man. I surveyed the bed. We’d pulled the bottom sheet off. I had no thoughts about that, not right now. Reaching for the robe slung over my dresser, I pulled it on as the buzzer kept going.

“Addison.” Cole went to the doorway and paused. He’d left his jeans undone. He asked again, “Are you expecting someone?”

“It could be Sia.”

The frown he’d worn last night when I told him about Gianni’s returned.

“I have a box of—” I stopped talking when I remembered. I’d put some of Liam’s things together and stored them in my closet. It was sentimental stuff. Things I could pull out if I was missing him too much. I stepped into the closet and grabbed Liam’s favorite robe, offering it to Cole. He was dressed, so I don’t know why I was offering a robe.

I didn’t know what I was doing.

His frown deepened. “Whose is that?”

I didn’t think. I answered, “My dead husband’s.” The buzzer sounded again, and I hurried out, pressing the camera. Cole moved behind me and peered over my shoulder. It was Dorian. I hit the accept button and started to ask, “Why is my building manager—”

Cole’s hand touched the small of my back. I stopped talking once again.

“He’s here for me.”

“Oh.” Well, of course. That made sense. I registered that Cole hadn’t put on the robe. He was in his shirt and jeans, barefoot.

The elevator doors started to slide open. Cole glanced down. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Oh.”

I sounded ridiculous. I went to my bedroom, cursing myself. I already knew what I was going to do. I tiptoed to the edge of the hallway, keeping to the side so neither of them could see me.

Their heads were bent together, and I could hear murmuring. I pulled back, just in case they looked over.

“…sure?” Cole’s voice rose a tiny bit.

“I’m sorry.”

Dorian didn’t sound it, though.

Cole grunted. “I’m sure you are.”

“I didn’t tell you to sleep here.”

“Lower your voice.”

Back to murmurings. I waited, but after another thirty seconds of whispered conversation, I knew I wasn’t going to hear anything else. I began edging backward, tiptoeing soundlessly all the way to my bed. I sat. I folded my hands in my lap, and it was then that the events of the previous night began hitting me.

Sex.

Hot sex.

All night long.

We’d only stopped forty—I glanced at the clock again—or so minutes ago. I winced. It was more like thirty minutes.

Raking a hand through my hair, I caught a whiff of my breath and recoiled. No wonder Cole wanted space. Going to the bathroom, I closed the door and started the routine I did every morning. Showered. Brushed my teeth. I was getting ready for the day. It’d be a sluggish one, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore.

I was wrapped in a towel and grabbing my clothes when I heard the elevator doors close.

I waited for the soft sounds of bare feet, but none came.

Suddenly, Cole was in the closet doorway.

I shrieked. “Holy fuck, fuck! Seriously?” My heart lodged itself in the back of my throat. “I just had a heart attack. Make some sound next time, please.”

Cole propped a shoulder against the doorframe and folded his arms over his chest. He smirked, his eyes showing his amusement. “You’re cute when you’re worked up.”

I groaned, ignoring the little flip my stomach did when he teased me. “Whatever. I’ll return the favor and see how you like it.”

The amusement vanished. “You can’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t scare me like that. Ever.”

“Why not?” I clutched my shirt and jeans.

“Because…” He ran a hand over his head. “I’m a trained fighter. I could hurt you. I don’t want to ever hurt you.”

Oh…Oh! “Is that what you do for a living?”

“What?” He looked confused for a moment. “No.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Just don’t scare me like that. I can’t promise I won’t react. I mean it, Addison. I never want to hurt you.”