Maybe they were getting too caught up in the charade and just needed to laugh it off this morning. Do a reset or something. She rolled over and rested her hands under her cheek, watching him as he slept. He looked so peaceful.
She knew he wasn’t.
He was haunted by his memories, and there was nothing she or anyone could do to help him. He had to let go of those nightmares all by himself. And he had to forgive himself. She only wished she could make it easier. They’d come together because he’d been trying to save her.
But he needed saving, too.
His lids fluttered open, and his bright green gaze met hers. His light brown hair was sloppy and standing up on ends, and he had a major five o’clock shadow going on. His tattoos stood out against the white sheets on the bed. He was even super-hot first thing in the morning.
Not. Fair.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him. “So, that fight was…interesting, huh?”
His lips twitched. “To say the least.”
“Why were we arguing when this whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing is fake, anyway?”
“I have no clue.” He curled his arm around her waist and rolled her underneath him, his eyes back to being warm and carefree. Thank God. “But you know the best part about fake fighting?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “What would that be?”
“The real make-up sex you have afterwards.” He grabbed her leg and bent it at the knee, his cock brushing against her with deadly precision. “You ready to make up, sweetheart?”
“God, yes.”
She tugged him down and kissed him, her tongue finding his. His hands roamed everywhere, exploring her body as if he was memorizing every single curve. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his muscled back. Man, she loved how hard he felt.
How invincible he seemed.
She had a feeling he liked showing that image to the world…even if it wasn’t entirely accurate.
He nibbled his way down her neck, her chest, and then clamped on to her nipple. He sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, as he ran his fingers down her stomach and over her hip.
Her insides quivered. Begged for more of it—lots more. And he gave it to her. He rolled her over onto her stomach, then slid lower, his hard body moving down hers with teasing slowness. She curled her fingers into the mattress and held her breath. He kissed down her spine, and then over the curve of her butt.
And then, oh God, then he slipped between her legs and lifted her hips so he could go down on her from behind. She cried out and buried her face in the pillow, loving the way he made her feel. It was such a vulnerable position, but with Cooper?
There were no words.
His fingers flexed on her hips, and then dug in just enough to hurt a little bit. She whimpered and pressed back against him, so close. And then she soared over the edge, her whole body going tense.
She felt him pull away from her and she heard the sound of a condom wrapper ripping. And when he positioned himself behind her, lifting her on to her knees, she held her breath and waited. Waited for him to rock her world all over again.
He didn’t disappoint.
He surged inside of her, burying himself completely. She pressed even closer to him, loving how much he filled her. And then all hell broke loose, because he was moving inside of her and need took over, not allowing for anything besides him.
And this.
Her entire body tightened and grew intensely sensitive, and he moved inside her smooth and hard. She came again. Explosively. Unexpectedly. No one else had ever given her multiple orgasms like this. After a few moments, she crashed back down to earth in time to feel him come inside of her. He gripped her ass so tight it hurt, but then he collapsed on top of her with a shudder.
And it was then…right then…that she realized something crazy. This wasn’t strictly fun, carefree sex anymore. He made her feel better, in the bed and out of it. He made her happy. Like, long-term-share-my-hopes-and-dreams kind of happy.
What the heck was she supposed to do with that?
They both rolled to their sides so that they faced one another. He had a smile on those lips she loved so much—full dimples and all. “That was the best fake-make up sex ever.”
“Agreed,” she said, keeping her tone light even though she was panicking inside.
He reached out and toyed with her hair. “If that’s what I get for fake-fighting with you, then I just might love fighting with you from now on. Want to go again?”
There was that word again. Love. That word on his lips did strange things to her heart. Like making her want to hear it for real.
Oh, God. Had she really just thought that? Please, no.
“Kayla? You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Uh, yeah.” She forced a laugh. It sounded maniacal. “Why would you ask?”