Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,69
way my body wanted to, riding him with reckless abandon, enjoying the way he groaned and gripped my hips to slow me down, or filled his hands with my breasts, or sat up and took them in his mouth, his tongue driving me crazy. When he got too close, he begged me to stop, but I didn’t, intoxicated with the power I had over him in that moment—finally—the way I was in control. In fact, I moved my hips a little faster, rocked my body a little rougher, cried out a little louder, until I felt him stiffen and throb within me, which set off the billowing swells of my own orgasms—yes, yes, yes.
I was his, and he was mine, and we were finally, unbelievably, real.
“Can I ask you something?” Cole’s tone was quiet and intimate, his hands gentle as they swept lazily up and down my back. Our bodies were still connected, and my cheek was pressed against his chest, where I’d collapsed.
“Sure.”
“Why haven’t you been with anyone else in so long?”
“It hasn’t really been that long.”
“You said over two years.”
“True. But I guess that doesn’t feel like that long. I haven’t really missed it.”
“No?”
“Uh huh. To be honest, sex never fulfilled me that much. There would be all this buildup, and then afterward I always ended up feeling disappointed in some way. It was never what I was looking for. At some point, I decided to stop sharing so much of myself with guys who didn’t care enough.”
“Good.”
“What about you?” I asked, looking up at him.
He exhaled. “It took me years to even attempt being with someone after Trisha died. And even then, it never felt right.”
“But there were . . . others?” I hated the jealousy that threatened to intrude on my happiness, but I was too curious not to ask.
“Only two. One random hookup at an out-of-town conference. And one woman I met at a coffee shop when Mariah was visiting her other grandparents in Indiana. She was newly single and lonely, and so was I. But like you said, it wasn’t what I was looking for. Not at all.”
I nodded slowly, the jealousy fading away. “What were you looking for?”
He cradled my face with his hands and kissed my forehead. “The girl next door.”
Neither of us wanted the night to end, but eventually we wore ourselves out and fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked over at him, almost like I was afraid he wouldn’t be there. But he was. My heart started to race as I took in his messy hair, his scruffy jawline, his bare chest. He was asleep on his back, one arm overhead, one hand at his waist. His armpit was hairy, and I stifled a laugh.
He opened his eyes. “What the hell? Are you laughing at me while I sleep? What kind of good morning is this?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just suddenly remembered the summer you and Griffin suddenly got hairy.”
“Great.”
“You got super tall, and then your voice changed, and I remember your hands suddenly seemed massive.”
“That wasn’t the only thing.”
I laughed again, my belly swooshing. “I remember I could hardly look you in the eye because Mary Ellen Meyer and I had read about nocturnal emissions, and we were simultaneously fascinated and grossed out.”
He shook his head. “Girls are so lucky. Everything is hidden away. And if it isn’t, it’s beautiful anyway. Boys can’t hide anything.”
“Don’t even try to tell me that it’s easier growing up as a girl. I will argue that.”
“How about we agree that growing up is hard, period?”
“Deal.”
“Good. Now come here.”
I happily snuggled up against his warm side. He pulled the covers up to my shoulders and wrapped his arms around me. “Do we have to get out of bed already?”
“Maybe not quite yet. It’s only eight.”
“What time is breakfast?”
“Not until ten.”
“Excellent. That is two hours I can keep you all to myself.”
I giggled. “I do have to take a shower and clean up.”
“Hm. I guess I need to do that too.”
“We could conserve water,” I suggested. “You know, for the environment.”
“Oh yeah? Fight climate change? Save the turtles?”
“Well, I’m not sure we’ll save any turtles by showering together, but I think it could be fun.”
“Except that it would require me to get out of this nice warm bed, put my suit on, and go get clean clothes from my room. With my luck, I’ll run into my mother.”
“Or mine.” I sat up. “Shit. I need to know how to handle this. Are