Page 8 of Cohen

“So when you kissed me last night, I was so happy and it felt so… nice that I instantly wanted more. A lot more. But then I got worried. I got in my own head about it and started second-guessing what I should do.” I sigh because it’s so hard to put everything I want to say into the right words. “I think because the rest of the night went so well, I started putting too much pressure on myself. I started thinking ahead and couldn’t appreciate what was happening in the moment, you know? I didn’t want you to think I was only interested in one thing when I feel like we have so much in common and I really want to see where things go with you—with us.”

I have to stop and catch my breath. I’m not even sure what I’m saying anymore or if any of it makes sense, but getting all of these pent-up feelings out in the open does seem to help clear my head a little.

One thing is still perfectly clear to me and has been from the start. I still want Cohen. I want to see him. I want to be with him. I want to be in his arms again and kiss him. I want it all.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he says, reaching out to take my hand while I cradle the flowers in my arm. “I’m just glad I didn’t offend you or upset you. I felt like things were going really well, too, and I hope more than anything that we can go on another date together and another one after that—as many as you want. But I never got the impression that you were only after sex or just a good time or anything like that. I think we both want the same thing eventually, as long as it’s with the right person. And… I know it’s probably too soon to say this out loud, but I think it needs to be said. I feel like you’re the right person for me.”

“I feel the same way,” I whisper as my heart does a slow roll in my chest and all those butterflies from last night come rushing back in full force. “I want to be with you, Cohen,” I say, finally giving a voice to my thoughts. “Right now and tomorrow and the day after that. I don’t know what, exactly, the future holds for us, but I know for sure that I want to find out with you.”

He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and brings it to his lips, brushing the tops of my knuckles with a sweet kiss that sends a jolt of heat straight down to my core. “I couldn’t have said it better,” he grins. “We can take things as slowly or as fast as you want—whatever feels comfortable. Either way, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for the long-haul. For good.”

Hearing him say those words calms my nerves faster than anything I’ve tried on my own. It’s exactly the kind of reassurance I’ve needed, and it makes me appreciate him even more—a feat that I wouldn’t have thought possible until just now.

“Okay,” I say, exhaling a breath I didn’t even realize I’ve been holding in. “O-kay. If you’re not going anywhere and I’m not going anywhere…” I smile and nibble at my lip. “I guess that means we really are in this together.”

“We really are,” he laughs. “So, how do you want to move forward from here? Like I said, I’m perfectly happy to take things slow if that’s what’s most comfortable for you.”

“Can we pick up where we left off last night?” I ask. “Right when you kissed me? When everything was still going so well?”

I can see the spark of heat in his eyes, followed by a hint of surprise. “I can kiss you again? Here? In the library?”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Yes, but don’t tell Mrs. Molina. The news would probably be more than she could handle.”

He takes the flowers from me and sets them on the shelf next to us, then pulls me in close until our faces are just a few inches apart. “It’ll be our secret, then.”

When he finally kisses me, it’s somehow even better than last night. Maybe because I’ve been wanting it so badly or maybe because I feel like we understand each other so much better now.

His hands skim down my back and over the curve of my bottom. “Your body is so fucking sexy,” he murmurs, making me moan in anticipation. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or—or if you see someone coming up to the door.”

“Don’t stop,” I say without hesitating, losing myself in the rush of pleasure as he kisses me again. “Oh, but… maybe we should, um, relocate.”

“Relocate?” He quirks a brow. “My office is empty and it’s right down the street, but—”

“No, not there.” I shake my head and tug at his hand. “My office is closer. And if someone comes in… well, they can help themselves or wait until we’re done.”

He grins as his eyes go wide. “Works for me. I like this impulsive, decisive side of you.”

I lead him behind the front desk and into the small office. “I’m not usually too impulsive, but I just happen to know exactly what I want today. Right now. With you.”

There isn’t much room in my office but there’s an old antique sofa in the corner that used to belong to Mrs. Molina and I’ve used it plenty of times for a nap when I’ve had to work late or come in early. Neither of us is going to actually be sleeping on it today, though.

I clear away a stack of books that I’d set there earlier and turn back to Cohen, who has already taken off his blazer and is loosening his tie. “I feel like we’re sneaking around,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like we aren’t supposed to be doing this in here.” He whips off his tie and pauses to pull me close to him again. “I like it.”

“Wearen’tsupposed to be doing this in here,” I laugh. “But I don’t want to wait another minute to do what I should have done—what I think we both wanted to do—last night.”

Feeling emboldened by his encouragement, I reach down between our bodies to palm his hard length through the thin material of his navy blue slacks. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, his cock throbbing against my hand as I start to slowly stroke him through his clothes. “That feels… so good.”

I reach for his belt, greedy to get the rest of his clothes off, but he stops me. “I want to get you naked first,” he growls, leaning in to nip at my neck as his fingers go to work on the buttons of my cardigan and the blouse underneath it. “I’ve been wanting this—to feel your sexy curves against me—from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

The sweater is the first to go, then my blouse. He doesn’t stop there, though. Reaching around to unzip my skirt, he has me stripped down to just my bra and panties within seconds.

“Fuck,” he whispers, finally taking a step back and giving me a slow up-and-down look like I’m a piece of his favorite candy. “Even sexier than I imagined, baby. Love your body.”

This is the part where I’d normally be nervous or feel self-conscious. Where I’d try to cover myself or at least turn off the overhead lights. But I don’t feel that way with him. How can I possibly feel embarrassed or inadequate when he keeps looking at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

Instead, he makes me feel bold and sexy and so, so greedy for more. I reach behind to unfasten my bra, letting my breasts spill free while the lacy undergarment joins the growing pile of discarded clothes at my feet. “Is this what you wanted?” I ask, reaching for his belt again. “To see me naked? Now it’s only fair that you let me help you out of your clothes.”

“You’re right,” he laughs, unbuttoning his shirt while I make quick work of his belt and pants. “Fair is fair.”

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