Page 15 of Merry Mayhem
GRETCHEN
Cooke indulgedmy request to tour the different neighborhoods, looking at house after house after house until most people would've thrown their hands up in boredom. Instead, he seemed to enjoy it almost as much as I did. It was like, in the dark, with the play of lights drifting across us as we glided through the night, there was something magical that happened.
Except it can't last forever. I know that and so, I think, does he. Neither of us wants to say the words though.
If we do, then the spell might break, and we're back to real life.
When he comes to a stop in my driveway, we don't talk. He comes around to my side of the car, opens the door, and offers me his hand. It's with his steady support that I make it up to the porch without slipping. The wind has picked up, but Cooke blocks it with his large frame, offering me the protection of his body. It makes me feel special and sheltered.
As we reach the front door, I slip my key into the lock and turn, hearing the bolt turn over. The door pushes open easily and I'm reminded that the space is empty. Gavin's not here.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Cooke.” I don't want him to go but inviting him in is intimidating. Will he think we're moving too fast?
“Thank you, Gretchen.” He leans in close, the masculine scent of his cologne washes over me, and I pull it in with a deep breath. My hands act on their own, sliding up until they come to rest on his chest. He's wearing a coat, but I feel like I can feel his heart racing beneath the thick layers between my fingers and his skin. His eyes drift down to my mouth, and now it's my heart that's speeding up. “Damn, I want to kiss you.”
The words seem to escape him, heavy and husky in tone, but that only amplifies their honesty. My stomach flips over at the want I can hear in his voice. So I give in to my own.
“I really want you to kiss me.” My own voice is just above a whisper, but he hears me and gives me what I want.
His lips land on mine, and I'm grateful for his arms around my waist. Holding me up, because I can't seem to do it myself. My knees have gone weak, because his mouth is perfect. They mold to mine, a fit so warm and right that it pulls a gasp from me.
His tongue dives in and I can taste the chocolate from the dessert we shared. It's delicious, he's delicious, and a craving for more fires through me.
When we finally break apart, I don't notice the cold or the wind. All I see is the gorgeous man standing in front of me.
“Please come inside.” I invite him in, only realizing how my offer could be taken after it's too late. He grins, and I'm thrilled that I can make him smile. This beautiful man with so many layers of sadness hidden inside.
“I'd love to come inside.” His voice lingers over the words, investing them with humor and heat at the same time. “Only if you're sure, though.”
Instead of answering him, I grab his hand and lead him through the door.
17
COOKE
My heart is hammeringin my chest and I don't care. All that matters right now is Gretchen. The fact that she's trusting me like this, giving me the chance to do what I've come to recognize I've wanted all along. Love her. Worship her. Give her all of me.
I make sure the door is shut tight behind us and then turn the lock. Her safety is most important in this moment. At least that's what I think until I turn to face her again and see her bathed in the warm light radiating from the tree we set up together.
Utterly gorgeous.
Her coat is drapes over the edge of the couch, and I set mine there as well. Gretchen smiles at me, reaches out and then I pull her into my arms. No space between us this time. I want her against me, to feel how her softness molds to my angles. She doesn't hold back either, though. Her hands twine around my neck, her fingers running through the short strands of my hair, and I love the feel of her nails skating over the sensitive skin there.
She eradicates every barrier I didn't even realize I had. Her kindness and honesty blew through the protections I built up and I'm so glad. It led us here. To this moment.
My fingers brush over the bare skin of her lower back, just above the waistband of her skirt, and she arches into the touch. A whimper escapes her, and I swallow down the sound. I want to pull all of those little signals from her, until I've learned all the things she loves. So I can do them over and over.
I follow the line of her spine, stopping just below the strap of her bra, following it around to the side and then back down. She shivers under my touch and it's heaven.
“Hold onto me, sweetheart.” I don't even recognize my voice. It's choked with emotion and I know she hears it too. “I want to take you to the bedroom. You okay with that?”
She nods, and I stop her.
I stare into her eyes. “Words. I want to hear you say it.”
“I want you to carry me to bed, Cooke. Now.” There's no plea or request in that statement. Simple, direct. Clear. She wants me as much as I want her.
That knowledge satisfies me on a deep level, and I don't hesitate. Just scoop her up in my arms and carry her down the hallway. Her room is small, and the only light is the moon coming through the gaps in the shades on the windows. It gilds the space with a magical glow. And I'm desperate to see her skin touched by it.
