Page 77 of Tides of Discovery
I did as he said and slowly sank inside until my balls met his ass.
“So good,” he murmured. Precum leaked from his hardened cock onto his stomach. “Move.Please.Make me come, Jack.”
I pulled back, leaving just the tip of my cock inside, then snapped forward. I set up a desperate pace. Cooper accepted every thrust, and our bodies found a perfect rhythm together—not like first-time lovers learning each other’s preferences, but like longtime partners who had mastered our choreography.
The world narrowed to just this moment, just us, as waves of sensation cascaded across my skin. Every nerve ending seemed alive with electricity. Being with Cooper this way transcended even my most vivid fantasies; it eclipsed any sex I’d ever had, as if my body had been waiting all this time just for him.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Harder.” His breath came in quick gasps. He poured lube into his hand and stroked himself while I picked up the tempo, sweat beading at my temples.
His gaze met mine and held, his eyes wild. “Just like that. Fuck. You’re gonna make me come.” His hand was a blur on his dick.
I was close to the edge, hanging on by a thread. Then Cooper’s body arched, his ass squeezed my cock, and his release shot onto his stomach. That was all it took to send me over. I detonated, and ecstasy exploded within me as I unloaded into the condom and colors burst behind my eyelids.
Making love to Cooper was everything I could have hoped for, like a gift I’d waited a lifetime to receive.
I withdrew carefully and met his languid gaze. “I’ll be right back,” I whispered. My voice barely disturbed the sated aura of the room. In the bathroom, I disposed of the condom and washed my hands, then dampened a cloth with warm water. I returned to his side and tenderly cleaned his stomach and hands, each gentle wipe a silent declaration of love.
Later, with our legs entwined under the sheets and Cooper’s head on my chest, I traced lazy patterns on his bare shoulder.
He pressed a kiss to my chest, directly over my heart, and the tenderness of it nearly undid me. He nestled into my side, fitting against me like he belonged there.
I gently squeezed him closer, savoring his weight against me. “I love you, baby,” I whispered.
“Love you too, snookums.”
In the quiet darkness, I smiled. Some bargains ended with everyone winning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cooper
I settled into the creaky wooden chair beside Jack and cradled my steaming mug of coffee. I let myself truly relax for the first time in weeks. The mid-morning lull had descended over The Coffee Cove like a gentle blanket, leaving us with just a handful of regulars scattered throughout the shop—Mrs. Abernathy reading a romance novel in the back, two college students hunching over their laptops—and the familiar hum of quiet conversation mixing with the soft folk music playing overhead. Sunlight streamed through the front windows and cast golden rectangles across the polished wood floors.
A deep sense of satisfaction settled in my chest as I surveyed my shop. Shaw was behind bars,A Latte Lovehad been a resounding success, and, most importantly, the man sitting beside me was no longer just my temporary boyfriend but my future. Jack looked more relaxed than I’d seen him in weeks, his shoulders no longer carrying the tension of constant vigilance, his smile genuine and unguarded as he scrolled through something on his phone. The crisis was over, business was thriving, and for the first time in a month, I could simply enjoy a quiet moment with the person I loved most.
The bell above the door jingled, and the sound sliced through my thoughts. Despite Shaw being locked up in jail, I was still jumpy. I kept expecting Ben, taunting me. Or Martin, brandishing his phone. But they’d slunk off in disgrace.
I glanced at the entrance—only for my stomach to flip violently, like I’d missed a step on a staircase. My parents walked in, with Ryan bringing up the rear. Their unexpected presence sent a jolt of anxiety through me.
I tensed instinctively, and my muscles coiled tight as old defenses kicked in. Jack felt the change in the air immediately and gave my knee a reassuring pat under the table. His fingers lingered on my thigh and offered silent support.
My mom was bundled against the February cold in a charcoal wool coat and pale blue cashmere scarf, her silver-streaked hair neatly pinned back in a chignon that hadn’t changed style in twenty years. Dad looked out of place in his tailored navy suit, his tie loosened only slightly, like he’d had to be talked into leaving the office for this visit. Ryan trailed behind them like a reluctant mediator and spotted us first. He offered a wave and a cautious smile, his eyes apologetic, as if to say,Sorry for the ambush.
My parents approached slowly, their footsteps measured, as if they were approaching a wounded animal. I stood out of ingrained habit, my body responding to years of trained formality before my mind could override it.
“Hi,” I said, tone neutral. The word hung awkwardly in the air.
“Hello, Cooper.” My mother looked at me with an expression I’d never seen before—a complex blend of concern, judgment, and barely restrained uncertainty. “We heard about the cyberattacks and the arrest.”
Dad cleared his throat. His fingers fidgeted with his watch strap. “We were glad you caught the hacker.” The admissionseemed to cost him something, the words dragged from a man who’d spent a lifetime buttoning up his feelings behind starched shirts and corporate policy.
I nodded, unsure what else to say, the chasm between us too vast to bridge with casual conversation.
Jack stood beside me, his presence a steady hum at my side, a quiet strength that radiated outward without him saying a single word. I could feel his hand hovering near mine, waiting for a signal, respecting my space while letting me know he was there if I needed him.
My mother finally turned her attention to him. Her eyes traveled over him, assessing. “Jack,” she said. His name carried the weight of that disastrous meeting when my parents had walked in on our kiss.
“Mrs. McKay,” Jack replied with quiet politeness. His voice held none of the resentment he would have been justified in feeling. “Mr. McKay. Ryan.” He offered the simple acknowledgment of my dad without pretense, a peace offering.
