Page 59 of Devilry

“Taking in the view,” I quip. “I want to make sure I don’t miss a thing.”

“Don’t make me drag you inside,” he threatens, a mischievous smile stretching across his face. Taking the stairs two at a time, I stop right behind him, my chest grazing his back.

He steps inside first and quickly punches some numbers into the keypad right next to the door jam. I follow him further inside, taking in the inviting layout.

The front door opens up to a narrow foyer. A staircase leading upstairs stands directly in front of us, and an opening on our right takes you straight into an open plan kitchen and living room. The dark hardwood floors compliment the light tone of all the furniture.

“Do you live here?” I ask.

“I will be,” he supplies. “I signed the lease the minute I got back from Chicago.”

“Where do you live now?”

“King has housing for staff who transfer here from out of state. We can stay there for the length of our employment, but most people only use it temporarily, until they find what they’re looking for. And,” he adds, “it’s on campus. After a whole day of classes, the last thing you want is to be bumping into all your students.”

“So that explains why you were running near my dorm that day.”

He gives me a knowing nod. “I was going to buy this place, but after what happened to my mom, I’m not certain I want to tie myself down like that.”

“Oh. So you don’t see yourself teaching here long-term?” I don’t know why I feel deflated at the thought of anything changing from this very moment. It’s not like King is home to me either.

“I don’t have plans to leave, but if I needed to go back home for an emergency, or even permanently, I’d like it to be as hassle free as possible.” I nod in understanding, much happier to listen to him tell me more about himself than contribute anything of my own. “So, I asked the owner if he was open to me leasing it instead of buying it, and luckily he wasn’t in a hurry to sell.”

“Seems like it’s meant to be.”

“He called me while I was away. I was itching to get back here to see it and begin moving in.” He walks into the living room and looks at me over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.” I step closer to him. “Is this stuff staying, or are you moving your own furniture here?”

“He offered to take it all, but I only have a television and a bed, and I was happy to not have to go furniture shopping.”

“That seems easy enough. When do you officially move in?”

“Tonight.” He holds up the keys. “I probably won’t have all my stuff in here till next week, though. Want to look around?”

I answer him by placing my palm onto his.

The air thickens the second our skin touches, the two of us in his house becomes more intimate than I’m prepared for. We walk through in silence, my eyes locked on our hands instead of my surroundings.

After going through the living room and adjoining kitchen, we walk out of another entryway and head up the stairs. This time he guides me to go up first. “It’s my turn to take in the view.”

Feeling brazen, I work my way up the stairs, clenching my ass with every step. As soon as I reach the landing, I feel Cole grip my cheeks and press his lips to my neck.

“My room is the one on the left,” he instructs. He hooks his fingers in my back pockets, following me into his private space.

It’s a decent sized room, the light gray walls and white cornices opening it up even more. There’s a door on the far right that I assume leads to his ensuite bathroom, and plantation shutters that let the perfect amount of outside in. Apart from a set of drawers, the center of the room is empty.

“When does your bed arrive?” I ask, a small part of me disappointed that the piece of furniture is missing.

“It’s scheduled for Thursday. I finish classes early and can be home to let the movers into the apartment.”

I turn around in his arms and waste no time kissing him. Unlike the other times we’ve been together, Cole’s hands roam down my torso, finding the hem of my t-shirt. Fingers slip under the material and begin to skim my skin. His hands enjoy the dips and lines of my body and my lips eagerly try to commit his taste to memory.

“Is there a bed in the spare room?” I ask, pushing my hard shaft into his.

“There is, but I’m not taking you tonight. The only place I’m having you for the first time is my bed.”

The confirmation that there will be a next time has me deepening the kiss, wrapping my fingers around the bulge in his pants, and squeezing him tight.

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