Cole’s apartment is everything that I imagined it would be.

In a sleek high-rise downtown, it has the minimalist, masculine feel of a bachelor pad along with million dollar views and expensive furnishings. The living room is warm and open, golden wood and deep colors. There’s a fireplace that I bet would be amazing during the cooler winter nights, and a few chairs I can imagine curling up in with a book. I could live in a place like this. I can even imagine Brownie here. “Make yourself at home,” Cole says, shedding his suit jacket.

I kick off my shoes. They’re the highest heels I own and it’s a miracle that I hadn’t already chucked them in the garbage at the restaurant.

“Those are hot as fuck,” Cole says. “And I imagine they hurt like fuck too.”

“You have no idea.”

He tugs me onto the couch and pulls my feet into his lap. “Luckily, I’m very good at this.” Digging his thumb into the ball of my foot, Cole massages the pain away. It feels good and terrible at the same time.

I groan. “You are good at that.”

“Just think, you could be eating pie while I do this.”

“Nope,” I pat my stomach. “Still too full of pasta to even think about eating anything. But I’m glad there’s pie for later. It’ll be a good midnight snack.”

There’s a sparkle in his eye, “Will you still be here at midnight?”

“I don’t know. Will I?”

He smirks. “I guess I’ll have to see.”

The way he’s rubbing my feet suddenly changes. It’s no longer meant to relax. It’s meant to arouse. I smile coyly at him, a thought I had the other day popping back into my head. “Speaking of dessert. There’s something that I want a taste of.”

I crawl across the couch to him, covering his lips with mine. Our tongues dance and I let my body slide down his, fitting myself between his knees. I make quick work of his belt, pulling down his boxers and freeing his cock. It’s already hard, standing straight up. I look up at him, pointedly licking my lips, and I see it click.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says.

“I know. I want to,” I say, pressing my lips to the tip of him. “I want to taste you.”

I don’t let him argue, plunging down onto his cock with one fast stroke. Cole swears under his breath, and I laugh, and then hum. I know my sounds will tease him, especially with his tip so close to my throat. Sucking back up the length of him, I release, dipping my head down lower. I make sure he’s watching when I use my tongue on his balls. I love the way his eyes go wide when I take them completely into my mouth, sucking them away from his body.

I love the way his skin feels under my tongue as I lick my way back to the tip, tasting the salt already gathering there. Sealing my lips over him, I use everything I’ve got. I swirl my tongue around the head, drawing shapes on him and stroking the sensitive underside. Cole’s hand finds its way into my hair, and I know that’s a good sign. His breathing is shallow and quick, eyes closed and jaw clenched. So I finish him.

Taking him deep, I dive down onto his cock again and again, letting the tip brush my throat. I swallow while my nose is pressed down on his stomach, squeezing him. And when it becomes too much for him to take, I let him drive the rhythm, both his hands tangled in my hair, forcing me down deep. His hips jerk up to meet my face, but I don’t let go. He’s close, I can tell.

Driving myself all the way down, I swallow again, and I feel him go rigid underneath me. I pull back just in time to catch his cum on my tongue, savoring the rich salty flavor, and swallowing it whole. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to taste him. There’s something about tasting another person—you know exactly who they are.

And to do it here, in his home, it feels like something far more significant. Intimate. We’re not surrounded by people having sex. There’s nothing to hide behind. It’s just us, and it feels like something is blurring between us. We’re no longer two people playing in a specific space. Those lines are fuzzy now. Blended. We’re together.

I suck his cock clean, and grin when I let him go. “Good dessert.”

He lets his head flop back on the couch. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I could think of a few things.”

The minute the words are out of my mouth, he’s off the couch and scooping me up, carrying me down the hall. Cole’s bedroom is an open space with a bed that’s so big it must to be a custom size. He lays me down on it, hands dragging up my legs and catching the hem of my dress. “No games tonight,” he says. “Just us.”

There’s something urgent in his voice, and I feel that same urgency deep in my gut. We need this—we need to see what it’s like when we’re not pretending. He pulls my dress over my head, and tosses it aside. I reach for his shirt, undoing the buttons while he unclasps my bra. And he lets his pants, still unfastened, fall to the floor. We’re naked together then, and even though we’ve been naked together before, this feels like something entirely new.

He lays me back, kissing my shoulders and chest, hands exploring my skin. I do it to, and I realize that I haven’t taken the time to touch him nearly enough. I want to touch every inch of him. Memorize the shape of him with my hands until I know it blindfolded. I touch the tattoo on his ribs that I first saw when we played in the Desert Room. Flowering vines that curve around his body, twisting like a living thing. It’s beautiful, and I want to ask him about it later.

We stay that way for a while, kissing, touching, learning. This is deeper than just sex. There’s a heavy feeling in my chest, and I try to push it away, but I can’t. It’s there. I don’t think it’s going to go away either.

Cole rolls away from me, reaching for the nightstand, and I know he’s getting a condom. I stop him. “We’re not in the club. I’m clean and I’m on the pill.”

He looks at me, eyes wide. “I’m clean too, but are you sure?”

“Yes,” I say, and I am. More than anything. “Let me feel you.”

He rolls back to me, over me, reaching between us and fitting himself to my entrance. He pushes in, and we moan together. This isn’t fast and frenzied, it’s gentle—deliberate. I can feel every inch of him, friction dragging along my skin, and from the way his breath is going ragged, I know he can feel it too. Cole presses his forehead to mine, and we’re breathing each other’s air as he moves inside me.

Slow, delicious pleasure uncurls in my belly. It swirls out from my core, sizzling in a way I’ve never felt. It’s deeper, goes farther.

Suddenly Cole pulls me up, pulls me into his lap, and I don’t know why, but being joined this way feels ten times closer. He wraps his arms around me, and I love how close he’s pulling me in, love how he’s looking at me like I’m the whole world. Love—

Shit.

I let my head fall onto his shoulder, and Cole pauses, breath on my skin. “Are you all right?”

The words tumble out of me. “I think I’m in love with you.”

I feel his body go stiff, and I prepare myself for the inevitable. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too soon, we don’t know each other well enough. He’s going to say that it’s nice, but he doesn’t feel that way. Uncharacteristic tears gather in my eyes. I’m not sure what’s going on—I didn’t expect this.

Cole tugs on my hair, bringing my face back far enough that he can see it. His face is so serious, and he’s looking at me in that way where I can see he’s looking for something and I don’t know what. After a few seconds that feel like eternity, he says, “Me too.”

“What?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up into that maddening little smile. “Me too. I’m in love with you, too.”

I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe, that heavy feeling in my chest from earlier filling me up, threatening to burst, like I can’t contain it. A few tears escape my eyes, and he reaches to brush them away, and then I’m laughing. And then I’m not laughing, because Cole moves his hips, reminding me of what position we’re in.

He fucks me with a sudden burst of energy, and I fuck him back. It’s like this admission has opened up something in both of us, making us let go. Streaks of pleasure rush across my skin, and I feel like I’m a firework all lit up. So close to exploding. He kisses me, holding me to him like he’s never going to let go, and right now I hope that he doesn’t. I can’t help the moaning I’m doing behind our kisses, he’s so deep inside of me that he’s hitting entirely new places, entirely new sensations.

Our lips break apart because we both need the breath, gasping for it, but he doesn’t stop.

“Come with me,” Cole says, and I do.

He thrusts up into me, and I fall over a cliff into nothing but pleasure. My body bows backward, comes back to him. It doesn’t stop moving or shaking, unable to handle the amount of pleasure that’s coursing through it. It crackles through my nerves and my vision goes black. Cole comes with me, and I feel the heat of him spreading inside me, triggering another wave of pleasure coursing through me.

We collapse together on the bed, still tangled and joined. I squeeze his cock, and he moves his hips, each of us teasing the other with little aftershocks.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you.” It feels weird and great and amazing to say it back.

Our hands find each other on the bed, fingers tangling, and I smile at him. “Now, I could go for some pie.”