OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance(187)

I almost choked on my drink.



“Or not,” she added, laughing at me.



“A house?” I asked.



“Yes, a house, Cole. Something we could call our own. Something our kids could inherit from us.”



“What’s all this 'we,' 'our,' 'kids' stuff?” I asked.



“Oh, am I moving too fast for you, Cole?” she asked with a sly smile on her face.



“Not really, but it may be a little abrupt, I think,” I admitted.



“Oh, well, I guess we’ll talk about it some other time,” she said dismissively, turning to enjoy her whiskey and look over the edge of the balcony again.



“No, wait, what’s all this about?” I asked her.



“No, you don’t want to talk about it,” she said.



“You really want a house?” I asked her.



“I do.” She turned those deep blue eyes back my way.



I understood what my dad had meant about making decisions. I understood his choice to buy a home when he’d been able to get us out of that apartment. We could have walked out of my apartment right then and found a house to buy if that was what she wanted. Just like my dad, though, if it was what she wanted, it was what I wanted, too.



It scared me that I was willing to go along with whatever she wanted to do, but I wasn’t about to jump on anything new right away like that. We still had a long way to go to get to the point where we would buy a house. I just didn’t think I was ready, and I didn’t think we were at a point yet where it was a viable idea.



We were just getting started. We had our entire life together in front of us. There was no need to rush into anything, but I poured us both another glass of whiskey and held my drink up anyway.



“Here’s to the we, our, kids stuff,” I said.



“Indeed,” she agreed.



We tapped our glasses together and drank. It felt good to have someone who was on the inside for a change. She wasn’t just another woman I’d picked up along the way. She was my woman. She was my old lady.



I looked at her in the golden afternoon light. Her wavy blonde hair fell around her shoulders and glowed in the light. Her eyes were like pieces of the sky that had been pulled down and set against her soft, gentle features. I wanted to reach across the table and stroke her cheek. I wanted to kiss her delicate pink lips. I could see myself unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing and exposing her to me right there on the balcony, but I didn’t want to take her on the balcony. I wanted to make love to her in our bed.



I felt my desire growing harder for her the longer I stared at her. I watched her thin fingers around her glass and remembered how they felt around me. I wanted to feel that now. I knew we were both sore from last night, from the accident and the fighting. But that would just make it so much better, I thought.



“What?” she asked bashfully when she caught me staring at her.



“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “Just you.”



“What you mean?” Her face lit up.



“You’re beautiful,” I told her. “I can’t tell you that enough. You’re absolutely gorgeous, inside and out.”



“You’re sweet, Cole,” she said.



“No. I’m being honest, Sasha. I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you, well, the first time I saw you as a woman. When I took that cap off your face and saw your deep blue eyes, when I watched your hair spill out of your cap onto your shoulders, I wanted you then, and I’ve wanted you constantly ever since,” I said.



She blushed.



“Come on,” I said. “While we’ve still got some energy left in us, let’s go make love.”



She looked at me and smiled with her blue eyes. She took another sip of her whiskey, downing the rest of her glass, and set it back on the table.



“Yes,” she said almost cheerfully, “let’s do that. Let’s make love.” It sounded so much better when she said it. I was about to rip through my boxers to get to her, so it was time to make something happen.



I took her slender hand and stood up from my chair. She followed, walking behind me as I silently led her back through the apartment into my bedroom. I closed the door behind us and kissed her, pressing her body against the door.



“You are so irresistible in my shirts,” I told her.



“Be gentle, Cole. I’m sore,” she said, so I turned and took her over to the bed, where we made slow, gentle love all night. I took care of her and cradled her in my arms so that she would know how much I loved her, and I gently made love to her so I could take her to ecstasy without breaking her worn body from the night before.