Page 72 of Broken Heart

He never faltered. Not once.

Now, we’d both reap the reward of his persistence. Because even if there was the possibility this could all go wrong, even if there were no guarantees in life, Cooper had given me his word.

I trusted him.

I trusted he’d do his very best to honor those words and never once set out to hurt me or disappoint me.

It was like some of his confidence had rubbed off on me because, for some reason I couldn’t explain, I believed Cooper would rather cut off his own arm than see me cry.

And right now, he wasn’t doing a single thing that had me even thinking about shedding a tear.

His mouth was on mine, kissing me like I’d never been kissed before. When he drove one hand into my hair and wrapped his other arm around my waist to urge me onto his lap, I happily went. Cooper kept my head angled just as he wanted it as my thighs parted and my knees fell to either side of his waist.

Even though our bodies were pressed against one another, it still didn’t feel close enough. I wanted more. Needed it.

Cooper’s hand that had been wrapped around my waist dropped to my bare thigh, where his fingertips pressed in firmly before drifting up slightly.

My body shuddered at the sensation of his rough touch against my soft skin, and I let out a moan. I wanted more. More of his hands on my bare, sensitive skin.

Believing he wouldn’t deny me, I tore my mouth from his, pulled back slightly, and searched his face. There was nothing but burning hot desire there. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

“Please, Cooper,” I begged.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

My hands, which had been resting lightly on his shoulders, gripped the muscle tightly. “I want to feel your hands on my skin. I want you to touch my body.”

Even with the sun beginning to set, I couldn’t miss his reaction. His jaw clenched in a way that told me he was imagining, just as I was, how it would feel for him to put his hands on me.

Barely a moment later, he took the first step in honoring my request. Both of his hands went to the skin on my legs just above my knees.

With my eyes on his, my lips parted slightly.

His hands trailed up my thighs, doing it slowly, until they slipped beneath the hem of my dress. The higher his hands climbed, the deeper my nails dug into his shoulders.

He’d grown hard beneath me, and I was struggling not to roll my hips over him. But it seemed Cooper had other plans. His hands drifted toward my outer thighs until they made it to my hips. Once there, he squeezed them and groaned. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do just that.”

“Do what?” I asked, my voice a breathy whisper.

He grabbed handfuls of flesh at my hips again. “Hold these gorgeous fucking curves in my hands.”

By the time he got those words out, Cooper urged my hips forward and forced another moan to escape. When he did it again and my fingers clenched down hard on his shoulders, he groaned.

“Cooper, I want more,” I told him.

The corners of his mouth tipped up lazily, like he felt victorious. I didn’t mind. This was certainly a scenario where I wanted him to win.

Cooper’s left hand released my hip and moved toward my ass. After giving me a squeeze, he urged his fingers beneath the waistband of my underwear and slid his hand down over my ass again. “Your skin is so soft,” he said, his voice husky.

“I love the way your hands feel. I don’t want you to stop.”

Never being the kind of guy to disappoint me and refusing to deny me, Cooper didn’t stop. Keeping his left hand on my ass, he pulled his right hand out from underneath my dress. He lifted his hand up toward my chest and delicately trailed his fingertips over the top swells of my breasts.

Despite the warm, summer evening air and the heat building between us, that gentle caress of his fingers forced goosebumps to break out over my skin.

Cooper’s eyes shuttered, his face fell forward, and he kissed the exposed skin on my chest. His fingers curled around the top edge of the scoop neckline of my dress and followed it up to the strap over my right shoulder. Once there, he slid the strap for both the dress and my bra down my arm until it could go no farther.

Pulling his face back, his hand returned to the material covering my chest, pulled it down, and allowed my breast to spill out. The grip he had on my ass tightened, his fingers pressing in firmly, and his hips jerked up slightly.

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