“How close your fingers are to where I want them, but how they still seem so far away.”
I reach the softness between her legs and dip my middle finger between her lips. “Still too far?” Before she answers, I circle her bud, making her buck in pleasure.
I didn’t want to fuck her because she’s not like other girls I hang out with, but man, she makes it hard. Literally. I go lower and tease her entrance just as she teases the tip of my dick.
“Fuck,” I growl as she takes hold of my erection.
When she squeezes and starts sliding, I finger-fuck her because damn, she feels amazing. The sound of our connection drags me under until I move by need and want, urge and craving. I thrust into her hand as we kiss erratically.
Dark brown hair, those eyes that stole my soul. Sunset tights and a smile that could compete with her halo. This girl has me caught in some memory and blown away that I’m with her now. What are the chances that I’d ever see this girl again? But here she is in her captivating beauty getting me off. Fuck. My stomach clenches, trying to stave off from coming.
The buildup isn’t long before I’m tempted again, though, so I pump in and out of her, tease her clit, and deepen the kiss until she’s pushing onto me, our bodies moving together and against each other. Her release strikes, sending her head back and her mouth wide open as her body tremors around my finger.
I let go, not able to hold on any longer. I can’t with her. I come hard and fast, pumping into her hand until every drop of my pleasure is released . . . into my pants.
Fuck.
Rolling off her, I fall onto my back and drape my arm over my head. Our heavy breaths are all that’s heard before I finally look over at her. “How was that?”
“I’m glad you stayed.”
6
Cooper
Story is scorching hot.
Literally.
Restless but still sleeping, she has sweat rolling down her temples. Earlier in the night, she was hot, so much so that I suspected she might have a fever. I reach over to feel her head with the back of my hand.
Shit. She’s sick.
I check my phone from the edge of the desk. It’s just past six. I get out of bed, trying to figure out where she might keep cold or flu medicine while wondering how long I have until I get sick since my mouth has been all over her. Well . . . almost all over her. There was a territory I was hoping to explore with my mouth later today after turning in my paper. I guess that’s off the table.
For now.
In the meantime, I head into the bathroom and do what I was always told not to—dig through her medicine cabinet. I don’t snoop through the general stuff but narrow my search for certain containers. I grab the Tylenol, knowing I’ll need to find a pharmacy open at this hour once I see what symptoms she has.
I get a cup of water, sit next to her on the bed, and have two pills ready on the nightstand before I wake her. “Story?” I whisper, stroking her cheek. She groans but doesn’t wake up. I’ve already been exposed, so I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Story?”
Her eyes fly open, and she sucks in a harsh breath, scrambling away from me. My hands fly up in front of me. “It’s me. Cooper.”
Through jagged breathing, she loosens her grip on the sheet and pillow as she comes to. “Cooper,” she says as if I’m a breath of fresh air. She smiles. “Oh my God, Cooper. It’s you.”
“Yeah.” I smile and nod. “It’s me.” Leaning forward, I rub her leg over the blanket. “You have a fever, Story. How are you feeling?”
Raising her hand up, she asks, “I do?” When the back of her hand rests against her forehead, her eyes go wide. “I feel hot, and my head hurts.”
I hand her the cup and the pills. “Take these. They can help with the pain and the fever. It was all I could find, but I’m thinking you need something stronger.”
A look of disgust tightens her lips when she sees the pills. She pushes up to stand. “I’ll be okay.” But then she wobbles and ends up staying seated.
“You’re sure about that?” When she looks at me out of the corner of her eyes, it’s then that I see how bloodshot they are. Taking hold of her arm, I help her to lean back. “I think you should take the pills, drink the water, and lie back down.”
“I think you’re right.” She swallows hard as if her throat has dried. Waving me off, she says, “You should go. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“Hmm. I’m pretty sure it’s too late for me, especially after what we did a few hours ago.”
A satisfied grin tips her lips up. “I suppose you’re right, but just in case.”
“No. You need someone to take care of you.” I help her lie down again after she takes the pills. Going to the desk, I grab my phone again and start looking for pharmacies that deliver. When I find one, I ask, “Runny nose?”
“Not yet.”
“Congestion?”
She rolls to her side with her hands tucked under her head. “Coming on.”
“Fever? Yes.” I glance up from my phone. The woman is beautiful even when she’s sick. “No itchy eyes, but are you fatigued?”
“Always.”
I chuckle because I can relate. “More than usual?”
When she reaches for her phone, she tilts it from the nightstand and glances at it. “It’s six in the morning, so I can honestly say I’m exhausted.”
“Valid.” I pick a few over-the-counter medicines to be delivered, but when I go to check out, a message pops up that it’s unavailable for delivery. “Shit,” I grumble. Glancing back at the window, I’d almost forgotten about the storm earlier. It’s probably what made her sick—the way it swept in without warning, along with the cold air.
I look at her with her red cheeks and the cherry tip of her nose, and say, “No one’s delivering, but you need meds. I’m going to head out and get some supplies.”
Grabbing my hand, she says, “You don’t have to go out. We’ll sleep, and I’ll go get stuff later.”
“I think it’s better.”
She props up on her elbow. “We don’t know if electricity has been restored. You could end up traveling miles, and you don’t even have a car.”
“I have a car. It’s parked at my place.” . . . in the garage. Fuck. If there’s no electricity, the security gate won’t rise. Rubbing my chin, I try to think of another solution. “What’s around here? A grocery store, convenience store, or pharmacy?”
“There’s a twenty-four-hour pharmacy one block over and a convenience store where the street dead-ends into Atterton Drive.” She flops back down, seeming exhausted just from holding herself up. Cuddling under the covers, she adds, “But I don’t want you going out just to find they’re closed because of the storm.”
I’m already up and heading to the dryer to retrieve my jeans. I’d dropped the pajama pants when I got too hot during the night. Now I know it was her who was heated. Checking my own forehead, I don’t notice a fever, and I feel fine so far. “I don’t mind.”
“I don’t want you to go, Cooper.”
After opening the dryer, I stand and look at her, pausing to admire the concern in her eyes. “Why not?” I tug on my jeans, but with the flap still open, I bend down to put my socks on.
“I feel bad.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going.” I wink and return to my bag while zipping up my fly. I shove my wallet and phone into my pockets.
“No, I feel guilty.”
“Don’t.” After snagging my hat from the desk, I go around to kiss her on top of the head. “I want to go. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
She grabs my sleeve before I get out of reach. “Cooper?” I stop and sit down again. Her mouth opens, but then she closes it again.
“What is it?”
“This is a lot in one night. You didn’t sign up for this when you decided to come over.”
“It’s an unconventional first date, but we get what we get.”
“And we don’t throw a fit.”
I chuckle. “Something like that.” Taking her hand, I look at her fingers and delicate wrist. “What do you say I make it up to you . . .?” I raise my gaze to her. “When you’re feeling better?” I lean in again because I just really want to kiss her.