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Surrender My Love(20)

By:Melissa Foster


She shifted on the cushion, knowing she’d be the best kind of sore tomorrow. She was surprised at how much she’d wanted to make love with him. Sex had never felt as good as it did with Cole. With Chris she’d never even had an orgasm without helping herself out. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes. If she concentrated, she could still feel the weight of Cole on her, hear his seductive murmurings in her ears. Surely this couldn’t be real. Men like Cole Braden didn’t exist and remain single, did they? In a quiet little town like Peaceful Harbor? She felt like she’d been plunked down in Handsome Town, USA, where Bradens were hot and loyalty ran deep.

“That’s one hell of a wicked smile you have going on there.”

Her eyes flew open and she swallowed a laugh. If you only knew.

Cole stood shirtless, in a pair of jeans. More than six feet of hard muscle, with big hands, a talented mouth, and she didn’t dare think of the thick rod between his legs and the pleasures it had brought her. And those eyes. She’d never met a man with more expressive eyes. They were always focused and alert. Even midorgasm his gaze was penetrating and intense, and somehow full of warmth, too.

He reached for her hand and drew her against him. His body was warm and hard, and his embrace felt safe. He kissed her, and she’d already come to anticipate the slant of his lips, the slide of his hand beneath her hair, and that sexy half-moan, half-groan thing he did that was so darn masculine it made her body prickle with desire from head to toe.

When he drew back, she went up on her toes and pressed her lips to his again.

“You need to patent your mouth,” she said.

He laughed and tugged her impossibly closer. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Insure it, too. I’ve never tasted such mind-blowing lips, and we won’t even get into the torment of that tongue of yours.”

He kissed her again. “I like you, Annalise Avalon. A whole hell of a lot.”

“That’s a good thing, considering you just got to know every inch of me quite intimately.”

“Speaking of which. We should get cleaned up. I heard your belly growl before you took advantage of me, and I’d hate for you to think you could use me just for sex.”

“Oh, you would, would you?” She laughed at his tease and followed him down a few steps inside the boat. Her breath caught at the elegant finishes. The floor looked like it was made of fine wood, the couches were off-white, with navy and tan accent pillows complementing the decor. There were photographs of Cole’s family on the wall, a small dining table, and a complete kitchen off to her left.

“This is like an apartment,” she said, mystified. “I had no idea it was so luxurious.”

“It’s just an illusion.” He held her hand and led her to a bedroom, with a wide, inviting bed and a bathroom that looked fancy enough to be in a hotel, even if a little tight.

“Wow, Cole. I have a feeling you’re way out of my league.” She ran her hand over the sparkling sink.

“Out of your league? Because I have a boat?” He arched a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Yacht, you mean.” Her eyes skimmed over the plush blanket and expensive-looking pillows, over to a two-tiered shelf filled with medical and boating books.

“Boat.” He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled against her neck. “You’re not going to get all weird on me, are you? This was my grandfather’s boat. He sold it a decade before he passed away, and when I had enough money, I tracked it down to a guy on Cape Cod and bought it. I had it refitted out there by a buddy of mine, Pete Lacroux. To me it’s the boat my grandfather used to take us out on. The boat I learned to fish on. Nothing fancy.” He shrugged, and she turned in his arms.

“You just went from me worrying that you had some hidden pretentious side to exposing the most wonderful, sentimental thing a person could do.”

“Nah. I told you, there’s always bad with the good. I upgraded the engine and the interior. I didn’t go all-out. I mean, it could have been much more elegant. If I didn’t like nice things, I probably would have had it refitted to exactly replicate the way my grandfather had it.”

She smiled at his confession. “If that’s all you’ve got that fits into the bad category, that’s pretty darn good.”

“Good enough to join you in the shower?” He raised his brows again, looking sexy and handsome and enticingly seductive.

“Not if you want to get out of here tonight.” She pushed his chest playfully, sending him out the bathroom door as she blew him a kiss.

In the privacy of the bathroom, Leesa leaned on the sink and stared at her reflection. Had she really just given herself over to this man on their first date? She’d waited three weeks before sleeping with Chris, and with the men before him she’d had a three-date rule. She always went out with a man three times before sleeping with him, because by the third date she usually knew for sure if she wanted to see him again or not. But one date? One! Surely this put her into the easy category.

But God…Could any woman resist Cole? He was romantic and charming, and…There were no words to describe what she thought of him. Only to describe what she felt when she was with him—that everything was finally right.

She turned on the shower and stepped beneath the warm spray. As she soaped up and rinsed off, she let her hands linger over the swell of her hips, thinking of how much Cole seemed to enjoy them. He was always placing a hand on her hip. She didn’t feel easy or like a slut. She felt…happy.

She used a fluffy towel to dry off and pressed it to her nose, inhaling deeply. If right had a smell, then Cole, this towel, and this boat where they’d just made love was it. She knew she should be careful with her emotions, but how could she when she felt so good?

She realized she’d left her clothes up on the deck. Great, now she had to walk out in a towel. She covered herself up and opened the bathroom door. Her clothes were folded neatly in a pile on the bed. Her sandals were on the floor. Warmed by his thoughtfulness, she dressed and hung up her towel, then went in search of the man who was chipping away at the walls she’d put up around herself.

She heard his voice before she saw him pacing on the deck, his phone pressed to his ear. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck. Her hands itched to massage the tension out of him, but she remained where she was, giving him privacy for his phone conversation.

He turned, a smile spreading across his face when he caught sight of her.

“Hey, Rush. I’ve got to run. The last thing you need to worry about is my schedule. Okay.” He paused, closing the distance between him and Leesa, his hand outstretched. “See ya, buddy.”

His hand slid around her waist as he put his phone in his pocket. “I’m sorry. Work stuff.”

“That’s okay. I should probably let you get back to—”

“There’s nothing I want to get back to besides dinner with you.” He pressed his lips to hers, and her body melted at the contact.

“My friend Rush Remington was just letting me know about a patient he’s sending in to see me Monday.” He put on his shirt and shoes and helped Leesa onto the dock. “Rush is an Olympic skier, and his friend’s daughter is an Olympic contender in gymnastics. She injured her back, and he wants me to evaluate her.”

“Oh, that’s terrible. Sports injuries are bad enough, but I’d imagine that at that level, it’s everything.” As they left the dock and headed back toward town, she wondered how long they’d been down at his boat. She wasn’t tired, but the streets weren’t busy and the marina was near deserted, telling her they must have been there quite a while. She couldn’t get over the fact that she’d so quickly taken their relationship to a more serious level in the span of a few short hours.

“It is, but I don’t want to talk about work.” He draped his arm over her shoulder and kissed her again.

His eyes took in their surroundings. His strong jaw was darker now as stubble appeared, giving him an edgier look. He glanced at her as they walked, and his smile softened his appearance again.

“You’re bound to burn a hole through me if you stare too long.”

“I’m just trying to figure out why I did this. How you got through the carefully erected box that I’ve lived in for what feels like forever.”

He stopped at the corner and faced her head-on, his eyes serious. “Do you regret that we were close?”

“No.” Regret wasn’t the right word. She was glad they’d been close, and she felt good about being with him now, which was also strange for her. She was very aware of how comfortable she was with him.

“But don’t you find this just a little weird?” She suddenly had a thought. Maybe he did this all the time. Maybe this wouldn’t feel weird for him—or anyone else for that matter. People slept together on first dates all the time, didn’t they? Or did they? She’d never worried about what other people did with their sex lives, but she wondered if she was a step behind after being out of the dating scene for so long.

“Which part?” he asked, stepping in so close that if she went up on her toes their lips would touch. “The fact that we were intimate on our first date, or the fact that I’m hoping tonight never ends and secretly trying to figure out how to get you to wake up in my arms tomorrow morning?”