Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,120
we’ve been together for a hundred years.”
“I agree. I don’t know what I did without you. Were you really right there next door all that time?”
“Pretty much.”
“God, I was stupid.”
“Don’t feel bad.” I patted his hand. “Most men are.”
He switched his grip to a headlock and growled in my ear. “Careful, little girl. I’ve got you all alone in the woods now.”
Giggling, I pretended to fight him off. “Oh no! Whatever are you going to do to me?”
He swept me off my feet and carried me over to the bed, tossing me onto it and stretching out above me. “Well, I was going to pour you some champagne, run a bubble bath for you, maybe book you a massage before our dinner reservation . . . but now I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh yeah?” I wrapped my arms and legs around him.
“Yeah.” He buried his face in my neck and kissed my throat, his hand stealing beneath my sweater. “Now I just want you right here in this bed.”
“Mmm. Works for me.”
“And I want you naked.”
I laughed. “Even better.”
He picked his head up and whispered against my lips. “And I want to make you scream as loud as you did that first night in this room.”
Smiling, I rubbed my lips back and forth against his. We always had to be so quiet at home, so that we wouldn’t wake Mariah. “Well, then. You better get busy.”
The first time was frantic, fast, rough, and—yes—loud. So loud that I felt bad for any guests staying in the surrounding rooms at the inn.
“Don’t feel bad,” Cole said, running his fingertips up and down my spine. “I hope everyone heard. Then they’ll know what a man I am.”
“Oh, Lordy.” His stomach growled noisily. I picked up my head and grinned at him. “I think you worked up an appetite.”
“You might be right.”
“Should we go down to dinner?”
“Does that mean we’d have to put clothes on?”
“Um, yes.”
He frowned. “Maybe I’ll switch my vote to room service.”
“But I brought pretty clothes to wear. And I think you’ll like my outfit for tonight.”
“More than I like your naked body?”
“Well, maybe not that much.” I laughed. “But you’ll still like it.”
“Okay, fine. We can get dressed and go eat.”
I gave him a quick kiss. “I promise, we will get naked again right after dinner. What time is our reservation?”
“Nine.”
I checked the clock on the nightstand. “Ooh! I barely have forty-five minutes to get ready!” Rolling off him, I scrambled from the bed to the bathroom and switched on the shower. I didn’t have time to wash my hair, so I just threw it up so it wouldn’t get wet.
Being in the shower reminded me of the morning after Griffin and Blair’s wedding. It made me smile, remembering the way he’d said, You’re making it really easy to fall in love with you.
I got out of the shower and dried off, and while I was getting dressed, Cole slipped in. He left the bathroom door open, and as I was pulling the sweater dress I’d worn at Thanksgiving over my head, I heard him say, “I’ve got some fond memories in this shower. Is it too late to ask you to get back in?”
I smiled. “Yes!”
“Dammit.”
By the time he got out five minutes later, I’d already tugged on the thigh-high burgundy boots and I was fussing with my hair.
Holding a towel around his waist, he stood behind me in the mirror and shook his head. “Fucking hell. Not the boots.”
Grinning mischievously, I added another pin to my loose, messy bun. “The boots.”
“But I won’t make it through dinner.”
“You won’t even see them during dinner.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll know they’re there.” He came up right behind me and kissed the back of my neck. “Let’s stay in.”
“Cole, you’re getting me all wet,” I said, laughing. “Now go put some clothes on before I lose my mind. You look too good in a towel.”
He tossed it aside. “How about without the towel?”
Groaning, I spun around and faced him, looking him over head to foot. The messy wet hair, those gorgeous eyes, the five o’clock shadow, the broad shoulders and chest, the sculpted arms and abs, the massive cock between his muscular thighs, stirring again. I forced my eyes up to his. Placed my hands on his chest. “Without the towel, you look even better. I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Believe it.” He kissed me softly. “I guess we can have dinner before I ravage you again. The torture will be bittersweet.”