Page 36 of Make Me Yours
When Cohen returned, dress in only his black boxer briefs, my heart started thudding. I didn’t know what might happen between us tonight. The heated passion from earlier had diminished, but not worn away completely. I just wondered now that Cohen could approach things with a clear head, if he’d still want what I needed.
Bob lifted his head at the sound of Cohen’s bare feet advancing along the wooden floor, but then he sighed and turned over, making himself more comfortable. Cohen’s eyes flicked to mine, and we both smiled.
“This is what you two do when I’m not here, isn’t it?” My mouth twitched in a grin.
“No comment.” He lifted Bob off the bed and deposited him in the hallway, closing the door behind him, but not before I heard him softly whisper, “Sorry buddy,” to the dog.
He crossed the room and joined me on the bed, lying beside me so our faces were only inches apart.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered softly.
For the first time, I noticed just how exhausted he looked. His eyes were shadowed by dark circles underneath them, and a few faint lines marred his forehead. I traced a single fingertip along the skin, and he closed his eyes, as if savoring my touch.
I ran my hands along his chest, over the coarse hair and taut muscle. I trailed the back of my fingers over his belly, and gauged his response. His cock wasn’t yet hard, for once, but twitched in the snug boxer briefs.
His eyes were still closed, and he had a small smile planted on his lips. “That feels nice.”
“Turn over. I’ll give you a massage.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I sucked in a breath. Memories of giving Paul backrubs flashed back to me. He loved to have his back scratched, and I’d practically leave welts scraping my nails across his skin. But this was different, I reminded myself.
Cohen rolled over and accepted the offer. I rubbed his shoulders, neck and scalp using the pads of my fingers. His breathing slowed and evened out as he relaxed into my touch. I leaned down and looked at him. Closed eyes. Deep breathing. Mouth slack. He was asleep.
I chuckled to myself and curled my body up next to his sleeping form, dragging the blankets up to cover us both. He rolled to his side, and pulled me against his chest. “Night, Easy E,” he mumbled.
“Night.” I exhaled softly, surprised that the emotion rushing through my system was that of relief. I knew sex would change the dynamic between us, and even though my body ached for that intimacy with Cohen, I hadn’t quite decided if that change would be welcome. Things were starting to feel very relationship-ish and I wasn’t sure I could go there with him. My last thought before I drifted off to sleep was that I was safe for another day, safe in Cohen’s arms.
Chapter 14
Why I’d agreed to a family dinner at Cohen’s mom’s house, I had no idea. But somehow, the following Saturday, I found myself dressed in a skirt and sweater set trailing dutifully behind Cohen and Bob, with a still-warm casserole dish in my arms.
Denise pulled open the door once we got closer, and Grace burst from inside and into Cohen’s waiting arms. She began climbing him like a jungle gym while Denise looked adoringly at her son. It was clear that he was a hero in her eyes.
Bob tugged spastically at the leash, ramming into my legs and causing me to nearly tumble. Thankfully, I remained upright with the casserole still intact.
“Mom, Grace, you remember Eliza, right?”
They both turned and stared as if I were a three-headed monster.
“Why’s she here?” Grace asked him, climbing down his lanky frame until her feet were once again on the ground. “You’ve never brought a girl with you before.”
Cohen cracked a grin. “From the mouths of babes.” He placed a reassuring hand on my lower back, and leaned in close to my ear. “Sorry about that.”
Denise’s mouth curved into a stiff smile and she held open the door. “Please come in.”
I followed her inside and into the kitchen, where I presented her with the casserole dish.
She took it and suspiciously eyed its contents through the glass lid. “What is it?”
“It’s baked brie and cranberries.”
She frowned. “Oh. Well, thank you.” She held the container out from her body like it was filled with nuclear waste and walked it over to the counter to set it aside.
I’d like to say the evening got better after that, but sadly it didn’t. Both mother and daughter clearly adored Cohen and delighted at each thing he did and said, and otherwise pretty much ignored me. The baked brie was mysteriously forgotten in the kitchen when the roasted chicken and potatoes were placed on the table, until I went to retrieve it. I’d been torn about bringing something, but Cohen liked the idea and thought it would be a nice touch.
Cohen took a large serving of the soft cheese and smeared it over a slice of bread, commenting on what a great cook I was as he chewed. This caused his mother’s frown to return, and a line to crease her forehead as if to punctuate her opinion of another woman feeding her son.
Cohen, for his part, seemed oblivious that these two ladies in his life did not think there was room for a third, and I wasn’t about to point that out to him. That wasn’t my intention anyway, was it? So I remained quiet during dinner and watched the easy family banter they shared.
His pager beeped noisily, startling Grace. I always teased him about how loud he kept the volume turned up. He said he didn’t want to miss a call. He checked the pager and frowned. A second later, it beeped it again.
