Page 82 of Craving Cooper

I like the way he makes me feel, and the confidence he gives me to be myself. I guess that’s why I was able to say all those things to him… to open up and be so vocal about how it all felt. It’s probably also why I was able to let him watch me play with my vibrator – rather than just dreaming about it – and why I let him do that thing with his thumb.

And not regret a second of it.

It felt so good, and although we’re both tired, I can’t wait to do it all again… including the thing he did with his thumb.

I’ve never even contemplated anything like that before, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world, and now I want more.

I want everything…

“Are you done?” Cooper says, looking down at my half-finished plate of food.

“I think so.” I swallow down the last of my coffee. “It was lovely, but…”

“But you’re not hungry?” he says, taking his dish and mine to the sink. He hasn’t eaten all of his, either, and he turns back to me, folding his arms across his expansive chest and giving me a sexy smile.

“Not for food.”

“You want more?”

“Of you. Yes.”

He chuckles, coming over and lifting me from the stool I’ve been perched on, up into his arms.

“You might have to give me a while longer,” he says, waiting for me to wrap my arms and legs around him before carrying me back into the bedroom.

“What for?”

He looks down, shaking his head at me as he drops me onto the mattress.

“I explained this earlier. I’m nearly thirty-eight… remember? There’s such a thing as recovery time.”

“You think?”

I glance at his semi-hard cock and he follows the line of my gaze. “Okay, it’s going better than I expected, but…”

“We probably shouldn’t do anything too ambitious when we’ve just eaten?”

“Precisely.”

He gets onto the mattress beside me, leaning back against the propped-up pillows, and I sidle up next to him as he puts his arm around me, resting my head on his chest. Although my eyes are naturally drawn to his impressive cock, I let them wander around the room, taking in the neutral decor, the posts on the four corners of his gigantic bed, the white linen, which we’ve messed up a little, and the seascapes that adorn the walls. The paintings are huge and I glance around at them.

“They’re very relaxing,” I say, tilting my head so I can see them all.

“The paintings?” he says and I nod. “I know. I commissioned them.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. There’s an artist who lives here in the town. He’s young, but very talented and I asked him to paint some seascapes for me, based on one of his that I’d seen before. Needless to say, this was before I met Meredith…” He stops talking and places his finger beneath my chin, raising my head until I’m looking up into his concerned eyes. “Sorry. Do you mind me talking about her?”

“It’s not the first time her name has come up this evening.”

He frowns. “No, but it couldn’t be avoided earlier. Now… well, it hardly seems fair for me to talk about her when we’re lying in bed together, just making conversation.” He has a point and I lower my eyes, even though he’s still holding my chin, so I can’t move my head. “Hey… look at me.” I do as he says, and he leans in, kissing the tip of my nose, and then my forehead. “This is my first experience of this kind of thing. I’ve never cared about anyone enough to worry about my past, or theirs, or what either of us might think about it.”

“And you care now?”

“Yes. Don’t you?” I nod my head and he sighs, like that meant something, and kisses my forehead again, then locks his eyes with mine. “Remember… she’s history. They all are.”

“So is Jonah,” I say, smiling, and he nods his head, then releases my chin, letting me rest on his chest again. “You were telling me about the paintings,” I say and I feel his chest expand and contract as he takes a breath. “Did Meredith like them when she finally got to see them?” It seems safer if I mention her name, rather than Cooper feeling guilty about it… no matter how much I hate the memory of everything they did together.

---