Page 79 of Muddy Messy Love

“But are there cameras in here too?” I ask.

“Hell no.” I release a pent-up breath, but Cole cups my chin and lifts my eyes to his. “You think I’d let anyone see you like this?” His brows are furrowed. His green gaze, steel. “You’re for my eyes only. Understand?”

The words tug at my heart and heat my pussy in equal measure. I nod, and that’s all the permission Cole needs. He bites my bottom lip, then our tongues collide as groans whirl and mingle around us. In one powerful thrust, he pushes inside me, and my head falls back on a gasp that melts into a desperate moan. One of my ballet flats tumbles to the tiles with a smack, but he feels so fucking good I could do this forever.

My pleasure builds with every sound and grunt that grinds through his teeth. “Look at me,” Cole says. “I want to watch you when you fall.”

I meet his intense eyes, and they blaze with a primal possessiveness that strips me bare. As he stares into my soul, I have nowhere to hide. I’m completely exposed, and Cole reads everything. All my secret desires, my shame and regrets. All the muddy, messy parts I disown. It’s too much, yet I can’t look away, because I’m reading him too. I see his fierce lust, his need to protect, and all the tenderness behind it. And beneath that, I see the boy inside the accomplished man—his innocence, hurt, and hope. His need to be wanted. His need to be loved.

An orgasm charges up my spine and explodes through my body like a collision of shooting stars. Cole catches my cries with his mouth and cradles my back as I buck against his grip. With several deep thrusts, his own release comes, and he bites my shoulder to muffle his groans, then captures my lips again. This time softly—reverently—as he guides us down from the vicious high through a gentle descent of feathery breaths.

“Stay right here.” Cole kisses my temple, then disappears inside a cubicle. I hear the thud of the sanitary bin’s plastic lid. The sound of his zipper and belt. Then he returns to wash his hands, drying them on his pants as he drops down in front of me. He picks up my shoe from the floor, kisses my ankle, and gently slips it back onto my foot. My heart flutters, and the little girl inside me jumps up and down, clapping. My very own Cinderella moment, albeit a little filthier.

I smile down at him, and he rises from one knee, readjusts my knickers, then lifts me down from the vanity, pressing his soft lips to mine. “I’ve got a meeting in ten, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

I want to ask when, where, and how, but instead simply nod. “See you then.”

Cole unlocks the door and disappears, and I head back into the cubicle to resume my earlier ruse. This time, however, the grin won’t leave my face, and I’m officially screwed.

Sixteen

The tap dance ofa key on glass echoes through the gallery, and my excitement bubbles. Slinging my satchel across my chest, I race to open the front door. Jen stands on the porch, smiling with scarlet lips, matching ringlets, and car keys jingling high in her hand. “Are you ready to pop some tags, biatch?”

I trap her in a bear hug and squeeze. She groans as if I’ve tackled her, but I can’t help it; I’ve missed her. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Ditto,” she says, hugging me back. “But it’s been a month, not a year, and a girl needs to breathe.”

Chuckling, I let her go. “It feels like forever. So much has happened.”

She narrows her winged eyes. “Ah, yes, the elusive Cole. I’m starting to think he’s a sexy hallucination. Guess I won’t know until I finally get to meet him.”

I smirk. “You’ll meet him later if we time it right.”

“Well, in that case, we will.” Jen winks.

I pull the front door shut behind me, lock the deadbolt, then follow Jen to Liam’s car. “I still can’t believe they gaveyoua licence,” I tease.

“I know, right?” Jen settles into the driver’s seat and leans across to unlock my door. I climb in and fit my seatbelt, then watch as she checks her mirrors, wriggles the gearstick, and secures her own. Her trembling hands inspire little confidence as she struggles to slot in the key. Perhaps a racing harness might have been the safer option. Maybe even the bus.

“Gotta say, I’m gobsmacked Liam trusted you with Betsy.”

Jen rolls her eyes as she cranks the ignition. “Oh boy. Don’t even get me started. I had to beg to borrow it today. Literally. And I won’t tell you the lengths I went to.” A dirty glint sparkles in her eyes, and I cringe.

“Gross,” I say.

Jen laughs, and the engine hums a wobbly groan as we shudder away from the kerb, smoke trailing. It never shudders when Liam drives, so I grab the oh-shit bar on instinct.

Jen hits the blinker to cut the corner of Beth’s street. “He’s sure this freaking car is a jackpot investment waiting to happen. He’s also sure I’m going to crash. Nice to know the guy who’s meant to love me has so little faith, huh?”

Jen floors it into a tiny gap between cars, but the old sedan shudders again and takes longer to move than she likely intended. Horns blast, brakes screech, and my muscles coil like springs, but Jen seems unfazed.

“It’s insured, isn’t it?” I ask, feigning support while praying the Grim Reaper stays the fuck away. My life is finally turning around. To die now would be a cruel twist of fate.

“Oh yeah,” Jen says, changing gears and picking up speed. “But he claims the insurance company doesn’t yet see the value. They’re wrong, apparently.”

Jen reaches over to mess with the stereo—the only new thing in here. A second later, Macklemore’s “Thrift Shop” pumps through the speakers, and she bounces in her seat. “Where to first?” she yells.

Ducking into the footwell, I retrieve my long list of thrift shops, ordered from nearest to furthest—from new stomping ground to old—and point to number one. “Vinnies, Malvern.”

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