When we step out of the elevator, I’m assailed with more mouth-watering aromas. Cooper is baking. The man sure loves his kitchen.
Shane excuses himself to take a work call, and I head into the kitchen to see Cooper.
“What are you making?” I ask him, peeking into the oven.
“Banana bread. I just put it in. It’ll be a while before it’s ready to eat. You can have some for breakfast.”
Banana bread is one of my favorites, and Cooper knows that. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to eat more. Lately you haven’t been eating enough to keep a bird alive.”
“I ate a ton at Mom’s tonight,” I tell him. “She served all my favorites, including warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream.”
Cooper nods approvingly. “How is Ingrid? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s fine. She sends her love to you and Shane.”
When I first met Cooper, I had secret hopes that he and my mom might hit it off. My mom’s never really dated anyone seriously in the years since my dad died, and I want her to have someone in her life. And Cooper – well, he’d already become a surrogate dad to me, so it made perfect sense to want to see the two of them together. But I learned pretty quickly that Cooper prefers male company, so that shot down my dream of Cooper falling in love with my mom.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar and watch Cooper cleaning up the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sam?”
Elbows deep in hot, soapy water, Cooper stiffens. Then he resumes rinsing off a mixing bowl and sets it on the drying rack. His broad shoulders rise as he heaves a deep sigh and reaches for a towel to dry his hands. When he finally turns to face me, his expression is carefully guarded.
“Why is this so hard for you to talk about?” I ask him. “I love you. I love Sam. I couldn’t be happier – ”
Cooper crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. “Beth, honey – ”
“You know that no one in this family would ever judge you or give you any grief. We just want you to be happy.”
Shane walks into the kitchen. “What smells so good?”
“Banana bread,” Cooper says, pushing away from the sink. “While that’s baking, I’ve got some work to do. If you kids will excuse me.”
Cooper heads down the hallway toward his room.
Shane watches him go. “Did I miss something?”
“I asked him about Sam.”
“Oh.” Shane nods. “Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what? I don’t understand all this secrecy.”
Shane scoops me up into his arms and carries me toward our suite. “Come on, young lady. It’s way past your bedtime, and I need some quality couple time.”
* * *
Saturday morning, I slowly come awake to the feel of a warm body pressed against my bare back and slow, steady breaths ruffling the hair at the back of my neck. Shane’s head is on my pillow, hogging it, and his arm is around my waist. I can feel his penis stirring against my butt cheeks.
It’s highly unusual for him to sleep in like this, even on the weekends. He’s usually up before dawn, either working out or following up on business. But not this morning. I turn toward him, surprised to find his eyes closed. I’m amazed that he’s still asleep. Gently, I nudge his shoulder, and he rolls onto his back.
I take advantage of this rare opportunity to get my fill ogling his beautiful body. His dark hair is tousled from sleep, and the face I love so much is relaxed. I count the tiny crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and study the sweep of his long lashes, wishing I could see those beautiful blue eyes.
My gaze dips down to his lips, which are beautifully formed and framed by his short mustache and beard.
I feel a warmth spread outward from my belly, heat sinking lower into my womb, making me tingle as I look my fill. The sheet is down at his waist, leaving his torso exposed. His body is so beautiful, his skin perpetually kissed by the sun, his chest a work of sculpted muscles. A light dusting of brown hair covers his pectorals, obscuring his flat nipples, eventually coalescing into a trim line that bisects his abdomen as it heads straight for his groin.
I gently tug the sheet down and follow that trail with my gaze to the thatch of darker hair at the base of his thick penis. Right before my eyes, his penis stirs, lengthening and thickening, turning a dark, ruddy color as it flushes with arousal. I glance up to find him watching me, a very satisfied smile on his handsome face.
“Do you like what you see?” he says. His sleepy voice is hoarse, and it sends more tingles coursing through me.
I grin, feeling my face heat up. I’ve been caught staring. “Yes.”
“Good.” He runs his fingers down my naked spine, making me shiver. “Did you have anything in mind? Besides looking, I mean.”
“Maybe.”
“Carry on then,” he says, relaxing. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I tug the sheet lower, exposing muscular thighs covered in a light dusting of hair. His growing erection lies thick and heavy on his thigh.
His fingers are gentle as they stroke up and down my spine, but I can see the tension forming in his tightly clenched abdominal muscles. He wants this, badly, I can tell. He wants me to touch him. To taste him.
I swallow in anticipation, reaching out to run my finger along the length of his erection. He’s hard as steel beneath velvety soft skin, and the contrast amazes me. I wrap my fingers around the head of him and pull back his foreskin to reveal the broad, flushed crown of his cock. There’s already a glistening drop of pre-come on the head, and he watches as I bend down to lick it off with the tip of my tongue.
“Oh, God,” he groans, throwing his head back into his pillow. His entire body shudders. His long fingers burrow into my hair, gripping my head firmly, which sends a bolt of pleasure to my sex.
“Beth.” He says my name like it’s a plea.
I smile. Usually he’s the one who initiates sex. It’s just his nature to take charge and call the shots, and I like that. I like it when he turns me into a wet, whimpering, trembling mess. But right now it’s my turn.
I lower my face closer to his erection, and I know he can feel my breath on him. “Do you want this?” I ask him, taking a page out of his own playbook. I’m going to make him say it.
He moans. “Now you’re just being cruel.” His fingers are still burrowed into my hair, but he puts no pressure on me to close the distance between my mouth and his cock. “God, yes, I want this. Have pity on me, sweetheart.”
I wet my lips, then slowly draw the bulbous head of his penis into my mouth. He makes a low sound deep in his chest when my tongue flicks against his slit, tasting him.
“Christ, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he says.
My lips stretch around the wide girth of him, and I take him in as deeply as I can manage. When my tongue strokes beneath the rim of his head, Shane arches his back. His breath is coming fast now and his fingers flex on the back of my head. The sounds he makes are a mixture of pleasure and agony, and they make my own sex flush hotly, clenching in response.
I tease and torment him with my lips, my tongue, my hands, and his erection swells. His chest is heaving, and with his free hand, he fists the sheets, clawing and twisting the bedding. His other hand is still on the back of my head, alternately stroking my hair, petting me, and grasping the back of my head. I lick him from the tip to the base, while one hands gently massages his balls.
Suddenly, he reaches for me and pulls me up astride him, settling me on his hips. His eyes are glittering with need as he slips his fingers between my thighs to test how ready I am.
“Jesus,” he says, when he encounters my hot, wet flesh. “Ride me, honey,” he says, nudging his cock against my opening. “Make yourself come on me.”
He’s hard as a rock, huge in my hand, and I can feel the throbbing pulse in the vein that runs the length of him. Holding him in position, I lower myself onto him, directing the blunt point at my opening. I drop down, and he sinks inside, my wet flesh obediently giving way. He grits his teeth, fisting the sheets at his sides to prevent himself from grabbing my hips and taking over.
I rock on him gently, gasping as he sinks even deeper inside me. As my body slowly softens to accommodate him, I lean down to kiss him. His mouth latches onto mine, and he eats at me with heated licks and firm lips.
Eventually, his hands release the bedding and come to rest on my hips, just stroking and kneading me. He still lets me control the pace and the angle, and I position myself so that the head of his cock brushes that sweet, tender spot deep inside me. I rock myself on him slowly, until the pleasure consumes me and my sex clenches down on him. When my climax hits, I gasp with pleasure, and he levers himself up to catch my response with his kiss. A heartbeat later, he erupts deep inside me, filling me with scorching heat.
I collapse on his chest, panting as I try to catch my breath, and he rolls us so that he’s now on top. His cock is planted deep inside me, still pulsing, still hard, and my sex clenches down on him, eliciting a ragged groan. When he finally pulls out, he collapses beside me, pulling me close, and we lie together with our limbs intertwined.
“What have you done to me?” he says, pressing his lips to my temple. “You own me, Elizabeth Marie. I can’t ever get enough of you.”
Hearing him say my full name always brings a smile to my face. I slip my arms around his waist and hold him tight. When I think of Luciana and what she did – how she tried to break us – tears well up in my eyes.
He kisses me gently, reverently. “We own each other, and no one can take that away from us.”