He tears open the condom and slips it on, then hoists one of my legs up around his hip. Suddenly I’m sitting on the ledge of the railing, clinging to him as he slowly, achingly enters me. If he let me go right now, I’d topple over the rail. But I trust him. I submit completely, trusting his steady grip, welcoming the thick, hard length of him inside me.
“You feel so good, Mac.” He’s kissing me again. Thrusting deep, making me mindless with need.
A warm breeze sweeps through my hair. I don’t care that at any moment we could be caught. That I don’t even know if his brother is home. That someone might be watching us from among the silhouettes that circle the house. I don’t care about anything but the foreign sensations coursing through my body, this feeling of fullness, rightness. When Cooper’s fingers tangle in my hair and tug my head back to kiss my throat, nothing distracts me from his long, deep thrusts and the wild, carnal need that drives us both.
“You gonna come again?” he whispers in my ear.
“Maybe.”
“Try.”
He withdraws until only his tip remains in me, then plunges back in. Hard, purposeful. Keeping one strong arm wrapped around me, he brings his other hand between my legs and swipes his fingers over my clit. I gasp with pleasure.
“Oh, keep doing that,” I plead.
His husky chuckle tickles my mouth as he bends his head to kiss me. His hips continue moving, but slower now, teasing, coaxing me back to the edge. Under his deliberate worshiping of my body, it doesn’t take long for the pleasure to rise again, to tighten and knot and then burst in a blinding rush.
“Yes,” he hisses, and his tempo speeds up. He thrusts into me with abandon until he’s groaning from his own release, shuddering, panting out unsteady breaths.
I swallow, inhaling deeply to try to regulate my erratic heartbeat. “That was …” I have no words.
He grunts unintelligibly, also at a loss. “It was …yeah.”
Laughing weakly, we disentangle from each other. I clumsily slide off the railing. Fix my dress. Cooper takes my hand, leading me inside.
After a shower, I borrow some clothes from him, and we take Daisy out on a walk along the moonlit beach. My fingers are still a little numb, my legs heavy. He was everything I expected and better. Raw, zealous.
Now, I’m struck by how not awkward it is. I’d never been with anyone except Preston, so I didn’t know what to expect after a … I don’t know what this is. A hookup? A tryst? Something we won’t really talk about in the morning? Somehow, I don’t care. For now, we’re good.
Walking back toward the house, Cooper teases Daisy with a long reed.
“So you wanna spend the night?” he asks me.
“Yeah, okay.”
Starting now, I’m not overthinking it. Clean slate. Starting from scratch.
It’s time I get to enjoy myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
COOPER
My head is wrecked. Waking up with Mac in my bed, my first thought is to make some bad decisions all over again. Then I remember that I’m in deep trouble. I was all about it last night when she practically jumped on my dick. But afterward, something really messed up happened. I didn’t want her to leave. I started thinking, well shit, what happens if she goes home and I get another goddamn text like, Sorry, my bad, I made a mistake and I’m getting back together with my dipshit boyfriend?
Which is about the point I realized that I’m fully screwed.
“Morning,” she mumbles, eyes closed.
When she rolls over and drapes her thigh over my leg, teasing my hard-on, I don’t stop myself from grabbing a handful of her ass.
“Morning,” I answer.
She responds by kissing my left pec before giving it a little bite.
This chick is something else. It’s always the good girls, right? All sweater sets and manners until you get them alone. Then they’re shoving your face between their legs and leaving with blood under their fingernails.
We cuddle there for a few minutes, warm and lazy in my bed. Then Mac lifts her head to peek at me. “Can I ask you something?” She’s apprehensive.
“Sure.”
“It’s kind of a nosy question.”
“Alright.”
“Like, totally none of my business.”
“You gonna ask it or should we keep discussing the question-asking process itself?”
She bites me again, a teasing nip at my shoulder. “Fine. Did you have sex with Sutton?”
“No. We took a walk on the pier and then she puked over the railing, so I put her in a cab.”