Page 80 of Stolen Summer

My fingers wrapped around him, his skin silky yet so goddamn firm. I took in every impressive inch in one slow stroke.

“Arie.” My name vibrated from his chest.

I bit my lip, a breathless whimper escaping me.

He put his teeth around my nipple and applied just the right amount of pressure. Then he moved to the other one, raking his teeth across the sensitive bud, and it hurtled me over the edge. I fell. And Cole was right there with me, pulsing under my hand. Pleasure coursed through me, and the world ripped apart. There was nothing but consuming satisfaction and Cole’s lips as he kissed me until the world began to reform?—

Crash.

The last tingles of orgasm working its way through my body halted at the sudden disruption. I didn’t know what it was. Not at first. Not with my mind barely functioning, but it sounded as if it had come from the first floor, and it had been loud enough to be heard over the shower.

I jerked, my heart jumping into my throat after just running a damn marathon. It made me feel as if I couldn’t catch my breath. “Did you hear that?” I asked in a winded whisper, glaring through the frosted glass doors as I braced my back on the tile.

“It’s probably Brody,” Cole reasonably replied except the straining of his muscles betrayed him. His eyes which had been so full of lust sharpened.

The water temperature cooled, which felt amazing on my flushed skin. “Didn’t he go back to the city?” I asked, an uneasy feeling tapping down my spine and fucking with my feel-good-after-orgasm high.

Tension radiated off him. “Yeah, he was supposed to. Stay here,” he ordered, releasing me and stepping out of the shower.

I hated the chill that rushed over me at the loss of his heat, and he had another thing coming if he thought I’d stay behind. “Like hell. I’m not getting murdered in the shower.” Leaving the water running, I tiptoed out of the stall behind Cole, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around my chest, careful to follow close to him without stepping on his heels. We dripped water all over the polished floors.

In usual Cole fashion, he ignored me, securing a towel around his waist as he entered the bedroom. “Lock the door behind me.”

I did no such thing.

It took Cole a few stealthy steps into the hall to realize I still trailed him. He shot a ruthless glare over his shoulder and made me consider unfastening the towel tied at his waist. He wanted to scold me but also didn’t want to risk scaring off an intruder if it wasn’t Brody downstairs.

Cole paused at his open bedroom door, leaning in and grabbing something from inside. It turned out to be a bat. At least it wasn’t his gun. I hadn’t fully processed Cole having a gun, let alone knew how to handle it. The house could be hidden with weapons for all I knew.

Instead of frightening me, I found a sense of comfort in the thought.

In any other situation, I’d be dying on the floor, clutched in laughter at the sight of Cole in nothing but a towel and a wooden bat clenched in his hands.

As we descended the stairs, I didn’t hear a sound except for the pounding of my heart. It hammered in my chest, my adrenaline spiking as we reached the first floor. The sun had gone down quickly, basking the house in a soft evening dusk, offering enough of its orange glow to light the way.

Nothing looked out of place. The security alarm was activated. The doors were bolted and locked. No shadows lurked around the corners. It all seemed normal until…

Holy shit.

Cole came to a sudden halt, and I bumped into his solid back, the muscles there coiled tight. Steadying my hands on his upper back, I peeked around his form to see what caused his tension. Broken glass shards were shattered over the couch and on the floor.

Someone had thrown a brick through the window.

Cole scowled at the mess, lowering the bat to the floor. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed.

I stepped up beside him surveying the damage. “Who would do this?”

His eyes remained sharp and narrowed. “Stay away from Gianna. I mean it,” he said in a low voice. It wasn’t a direct answer to my question, but it gave me insight into who he thought was responsible for tonight’s vandalism.

A balmy breeze entered the house, carrying traces of salt and seaweed through the jagged glass. “Or what, she’ll throw a brick at my head?” To be frank, it wasn’t a huge leap from ice cream for an unhinged ex-girlfriend.

His dark gaze focused on me. “She’s dangerous. And normally she doesn’t like to get her hands dirty.” Careful to avoid getting slivers of glass into his feet, Cole edged along the hall.

I watched him check the kitchen. “Meaning she has someone else do the messy business of ruining someone.”

Holding the bat down at his side, he turned to face me where I lingered in the hallway. “Or worse.”

I blinked, feeling exposed and vulnerable in only a towel. Not the attire I’d want to be killed in. “Are you talking murder? She wouldn’t.”

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