The Line, page 17
She was determined as she reached around to her back pocket and pulled out what looked to be an old piece of paper.
Eve longingly gazed at this paper for a minute, like she was saying goodbye to an old friend before holding it out to me. I tried to grab it, but she brought the paper back to her and lovingly ran her finger over it one last time. Then she finally handed it over with more yearning in her eyes than an old piece of paper warranted.
Concerned with the look on her face, I took it from her and quickly studied it. And my breath stopped. In fact, it seemed like time had stopped.
My mother peered back at me, her face soft and sincere, her eyes bright and sweet like I remembered. I ran my fingers over the yellow, slightly burned, worn edges while studying the photo in shock.
“She was in your wallet, stuffed behind your driver’s license,” Eve breathed, staring at the ground, lost somewhere in the past. “I took the money and went to toss the rest in the big dumpster behind the train station you left me at. Only I couldn’t throw her away.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and her bottom lip trembled. I wanted to hug her, tell her that it was okay, and comfort her, but I also wanted to hear what she had to say. I thought of all the times I had seen her reach for her back pocket when she was stressed, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been reaching for my momma. And, if she had been, for how long had she been doing it? So, instead of comforting her, I waited and implored her with my eyes to continue.
Finally making eye contact with me, she swallowed hard. “I couldn’t put her in the trash. She looked too much like my cowboy from the train. Too much like the only person who’d ever taken the time to know me, to take care of me.” She smiled sadly at me. “She had your smile. Your eyes. So I kept her in my back pocket, and when I became too scared, too sad, too hungry, I’d pull her out.” She nodded solemnly towards the picture. “She was the only thing that kept me going in those days.”
I stared at the picture, letting her words sink in. Really letting the whole situation settle on me. She’d kept a picture of my mother in her back pocket for four Goddamn years because it had brought her comfort. Because I had brought her comfort. My heart was half aching for her. The other half was so full of love, of pure, raw, unadulterated, naked emotion, that I thought it would burst right out of my chest. Because that small girl on the train from four years ago? I’d felt sorry for her and wanted to help her, but the woman in front of me—God, I fucking loved her.
“What’s her name?” Eve’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I wondered if she saw it in my eyes. How Goddamn much I loved her. I felt like I was wearing a blinking neon sign on my forehead that said it all.
I clutched the photo too hard in my big hands. “Margaret,” I choked out, so overcome with emotion that it itched and burned behind my eyes.
“Margaret,” Eve repeated, smiling and nodding like it made perfect sense to her. Like she was thrilled at the prospect of knowing the woman in the photo’s name.
And then it hit me. She was. She was thrilled to know my momma’s name. She loved this woman almost as much as I did. She’d obviously cherished this photo. And, even though I didn’t have very many pictures of my mother because the fire had taken most of them, I couldn’t imagine keeping this one. Besides, I didn’t need it like my girl did. I had my memories I could play whenever I wanted.
I turned Eve’s hand over and placed the photo in her palm, our warm hands making contact around the picture. “You should keep her.”
“No. I couldn’t.” She shook her head, her eyes wide. “I can’t, Cole. I shouldn’t have taken it in the first place.”
I pressed the photo into her hand harder. “She’d want you to have it. I want you to.”
Relief passed over her face before she reluctantly took the photo, but I could tell she was happy to have it back. And I knew then that I’d do pretty much anything to make this woman happy.
Eve took one last long look at the photo before placing it back into her pocket, where it belonged. “Thank you.” Her gaze pierced me. “For everything.”
I grinned. “It’s been my pleasure, Eve. Everything I’ve ever done for you has been my pleasure.”
Her velvety eyes studied me, and I felt naked, totally exposed to her as she took me in. I wondered if maybe she finally knew how I loved her. How I adored everything about her.
I brought her body back to mine, and this time, she let me hold her. Eve stared into the fire while I took in the people milling about. I’d completely forgotten about them; I’d been so wrapped up in us. Her presence always seemed to blot out the rest of the world, and I didn’t mind at all.
“I love the smell of campfire,” she mumbled into my chest.
“Yeah?” I asked, smiling because I was deliriously fucking happy. Because Eve had made me this way.
“Mmm hmm,” she hummed. “Smells like you.”
“Me?” I asked, tilting her face towards mine with my hand.
She nervously cleared her throat and drummed her fingers on her lap. “I noticed the day on the train that you smelled like smoke. Like a campfire, sweet and earthy. You still smell that way.” She ran her nose along the side of my neck, breathing me in.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the way her skin felt against mine. She stopped her exploration of my neck at my collarbone and placed a small kiss there. My cock went rock-hard at that kiss.
It was too much. So overwhelming. The combination of so much love and lust swirling around inside me made me dizzy to the point that I thought my cock would explode with it.
“Fuck,” I moaned low and long, running my hand up the inside of her thigh just under her cut-off shorts.
And, when she whimpered and ran her hand over my hardness through my jeans, I was ready to erupt with this lust-love feeling I was trying to my damnedest to contain. I needed her. Now.
“Let’s go,” I demanded, dragging her hand away from my cock and clutching it in my own.
I was pulsating with warmth, and my legs were like jelly, so I let Cole drag me the few yards to his place. I knew we were going there. His determined, sex-filled eyes said it all.
We climbed the porch steps to his cottage, me behind him, my hand in his, my heart feeling ready to erupt. I slowed my pace as we approached the front door, but he surprised me by pulling me around him and placing me in the small space between the door and him. He leaned forward, closing that space. I expected him to kiss me senseless against that door like he’d done almost every night the past couple of weeks at the big house, but he only delicately laid his forehead to mine.
He closed his eyes, his sweet breath fanning fast over my face, and then I felt his hand slide up the inside of my thigh and under my shorts.
He couldn’t even wait to get us inside, and my head spun with the knowledge of how bad he wanted me.
I spread my legs, offering myself to him the only way I knew how, my thighs trembling at the prospect of what was to come. And, oh, I wanted to come. His fingers played at the edge of my panties for a second, teasing me, taunting me, before he moved them aside and ran one long finger along my slit.
Like he was in pain, he groaned lowly. “You’re wet,” he softly puffed across my lips, his face ruddy and sweaty with need. “And hot. So hot,” he growled out, running that thick, rough finger back and forth over and over, driving me mad.
“Please,” I begged, needing more. Needing him.
He pressed the pad of his finger to my clit, and we both gasped at the contact. I rolled my head back against the door and closed my eyes. But he was having none of that.
“Look at me,” he demanded quietly, rubbing a slow circle around the tight nub.
And I did. His savage eyes stared back at me, so full of power and strength and love that they nearly destroyed me. The intimacy of that moment was almost too much to bear but too damn good to let go of.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rumbled. “Pressed up against my door, your face flushed with sex, my fingers exploring your pussy.”
I moaned low and long. He knew what his words did to me. We both did. I was so caught up that I barely noticed the door give behind me as Cole ushered me through, his lips brushing the slope of my neck, his finger still firmly pressed to my clit.
The cold kissed my skin as he stepped back before swooping me up in his arms. I placed my hands around his neck, holding tight as he carried me through the house like some kind of damn western Prince Charming. I giggled, and Cole laid me down and stood beside the bed, gazing at me, hunger ablaze in his eyes.
Sitting up, I grabbed the buckle of his belt, determined to get this show on the road. Ready for him to finally be mine.
“No,” he growled out, placing his hand over mine. “Let me.” He grabbed the bottom of my T-shirt.
I lifted my arms as he slowly pulled it over my head. I shivered though the room wasn’t the least bit cold. He tugged my shorts off my body, running the tips of his fingers all the way down my legs as he did. He removed my bra and my panties like he was unwrapping a special gift: slowly, carefully, dotting my body with hot, wet, openmouthed kisses I felt right at my center. And, when I was completely naked, he laid me back on the bed and hovered over me, his eyes eating me up like I was his favorite meal, like he was in awe of me. Like he was the lucky one.
My body arched beneath his stare, craving more than just the touch of his gaze along my skin.
Running one finger from the dip in my neck all the way down to my naval, Cole praised, “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”
“Please,” I whispered into the quiet room, arching further into his touch, needing him like I needed my next breath.
“Fuck, I love when you beg me.” He palmed the thick length of his cock through the denim of his jeans and squeezed hard, grunting.
My pussy clenched and pulsated at the sight, and I wanted more than anything to see all of my cowboy.
I ran my hand over his, helping him squeeze and stroke himself. “Take it off.”
The pupils of his brown eyes dilated until I saw nothing but black.
He moaned low like it pained him to separate from me as he stood next to the bed. Eyeing me like he wouldn’t ever see enough of my skin, he started working his big belt buckle and toeing his boots off.
I hardly heard the clang of his belt as it hit the floor for the blood pounding in my ears. With every article of clothing that fell, my pulse raced, my pussy wept, and my blood heated in my veins. This gorgeous, muscular, kind man was mine, and I was never giving him up. It was a powerful feeling, knowing he was mine. I’d never owned anything so precious in my life, and I felt heady and drunk with the knowledge that I finally did.
Those broad shoulders. Those thick arms. The muscles tightly packed at his stomach. The hard lines of his hips. That small smattering of hair that led to his glorious cock. They all belonged to me.
And his good heart—that was mine too.
Lying on top of me, he pressed his body along the length of mine, and it somehow felt like I’d been waiting my entire life for this moment. His skin to mine. His hard muscles intertwined with my soft ones, and it was like coming home, a place I’d never been before. A place I only had with Cole.
The urge to touch him was impossible to resist, so I ran my hands through his thick, soft hair, down his broad back, and across his ribs before gripping his muscular ass and pulling him closer to me, until his cock was snug against my wet heat.
“Yes,” he hissed before slipping his tongue into my mouth.
I expected his mouth to be rough and demanding, only he surprised me with the gentleness, with the deliberateness with which his mouth kissed mine, like he’d planned this kiss his whole life. He dined on me slowly, sweetly, like I was delicate and breakable beneath him. And maybe I was. But just for him, because only this man had the ability to completely undo me.
“I need you,” I breathed while Cole slid the length of his cock along my slit, the head of it catching my clit over and over.
His hands cradled my breast. His fingers pinched the pink tips of my nipples. His mouth touched every available surface of skin it could reach.
And I was gone. So far gone that I was nothing but a panting, sweaty, wanting ball of need beneath him. Nows and pleases and mores poured from my mouth in garbled sentences he somehow seemed to always understand. And, when he reached into the bedside table, pulled that foil packet out, opened it with his teeth, and rolled that sucker on, I nearly wept with relief.
His cock poised at the entrance to my sex, Cole paused, peering down at me. “Okay?” His brow creased with concern, his gaze sincere.
I smiled, a tear slipping down my cheek and into the crease of my smile line. Because I was more than okay. I was amazing, but I knew what he was asking, so I nodded once, giving him permission to take what I’d been trying to give him since I could remember.
In one smooth stroke, he filled me up and I felt him everywhere, big and hard and smooth. He was in me, on me, all around me. I felt him from the tips of my fingers to the bottoms of my feet.
“So tight. So perfect,” he gritted out before plundering my mouth, stealing my air, breaking off a part of my soul, and keeping it for his own.
I tightly wrapped my legs around him, the heels of my feet pulling him closer to me. I met his every thrust with one of my own. His pelvis hit my clit in the most devastatingly delicious way.
“Ask me,” he demanded into my mouth, his breath shuddering, his voice husky and rich.
Even with my sex-addled brain, I knew what my cowboy wanted. And I gave it all too willingly.
“Make me come, Cole.”
Reaching between us, he pinched my clit and hammered into me, pushing me farther into and up the mattress until my hands left the softness of his hair and clutched the wooden headboard.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I chanted again and again, my orgasm starting at my core and rolling through me like a huge tidal wave, taking me under, crashing into me, and stealing my air.
Hot and tingly and barely able to gasp the words, I exhaled, “Come. Come for me, Cowboy.”
His brown eyes blazed down at me as he planted his big hands on either side of my body and surged up into me again and again, pummeling my body, using it for his pleasure.
“Take me.”
“I’m yours.”
“Fuck me.”
“Harder.”
“Come in me.”
I whispered filthy words, my lips pressed to the lobe of his ear. Every whisper, every encouragement, they only spurred him on, making him surge into me harder and harder until he froze over me. He threw his head back and roared into the room, his body jerking, his face red and wet from sweat as he emptied into me on a long grunt that sent another tiny orgasm radiating from my core.
We lay together, sweaty skin to sweaty skin, beating heart to beating heart, exposed soul to exposed soul, Cole’s crushing weight pressing me exquisitely into the soft mattress below us. And I never wanted to move.
I was finally home.
I stretched and rolled to my stomach, reaching for the satin skin and honeysuckle smell I’d been surrounded by all night, but my hand only hit slightly warm bedsheets. A moment of ridiculous panic swept over me until I smelled it. Bacon.
My girl was making me breakfast, and I almost felt bad about the poor state of my refrigerator and my cabinets, but it seemed she was making do. I rolled out of bed and looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning. Christ, she was up early, and we’d had a very, very long night.
I’d taken her in every possible way I’d imagined over the past couple of months. And I’d imagined a hell of a lot of ways, but I wasn’t done with her by a long shot, and I found myself exasperated that she’d woken before me and I hadn’t had a chance to bury myself inside her again.
I’d wanted to wait until everything was sorted with Marla, until I’d asked her to stay with me here at Prestons, to make love to her, but I hadn’t been able to wait any longer. Our dates, our intimate moments, our undeniable love for one another—those had finally outweighed my need to wait. But I didn’t have any regrets. I’d wanted her more than I’d wanted anything in my entire life, and I’d finally had her. And it had most definitely been worth the wait.
I grabbed my faded jeans from a pile on the floor and slipped them on. I tucked my cock in and zipped up, not bothering with the button. I started walking towards the small kitchen in my little house.
Eve stood at the stove, a fork in her hand, a dish towel over her shoulder. She was in front of a pan of frying bacon. Her hair was damp, and she was wearing my black T-shirt from last night and a pair of my socks she had pulled all the way up to her knees. Her hips swayed back and forth as she sang an old country song about a momma who turns her daughter into a prostitute and moves her up town. I contained my laugh as she flipped bacon with flare, and I couldn’t help but hope and pray that I got to see this sight every morning for the rest of my life.
I leaned against the entrance to the kitchen, watching her putter around resembling every fantasy I’d ever had. I was one lucky motherfucker.
“Mornin’,” I spoke from my spot.
A sound like, “Eep!” shrieked out of her. “How long have you been standing there?” She pointed the fork at me. Her eyes were accusatory.
I chuckled. “Long enough, Fancy.” I winked at her.
She chucked the dish towel at me, blushing. “It’s not nice to spy on people, Cole.”
I sauntered towards her as she took me in, her gaze blazing across my naked chest and then pausing at the waist of my undone jeans. Then her eyes widened.
“I wasn’t spying. I was enjoying the view.” I grinned.
She raised an eyebrow, her eyes playful, lustful. “You see anything you like?”
“Plenty,” I answered quickly, coming up behind her, placing my hands on her hips, and pressing my rock-hard cock into the crevice of her ass.
Fuck, she was the sexiest woman I’d ever seen in my life. I ran my nose over her damp hair and smelled my shampoo and soap.
