Page 56 of Of Course, Cutie

I picked up my phone off my nightstand, getting ready to send Matteo an apology text for not responding.

When I saw Burke’s name on my screen, I dropped my phone like it was on fire. I clutched a hand to my racing heart and stood to close my bedroom door.

Burke. How did just his name send electricity through my entire body? I sank onto my bed and picked up my phone with shaking hands. I took a deep breath, then opened his message.

He sent me a single link to a song. Tears blurred my vision when I saw the title. I tapped the link, and the sweet notes of Patience by Guns N’ Roses filled the air. I collapsed against my pillows as the tears ran in rivers down my cheeks.

???

By the time I knocked on his door, it’d been almost five hours since Burke texted.

He pulled it open, and my heart ached at the sight of him. His hair was down and damp like he’d just taken a shower, and he wore a tight black t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and showed off his hard muscle. But Burke’s eyes were what drew me in — those intense mossy-green eyes that could see right through me.

I looked down at the phone in my hand and pressed play.

Burke smiled and ran a hand through his beard. We stood in silence while the first thirty seconds of Patience played. Then Burke grasped my wrists and tugged me against his body. He pulled me into his apartment and closed the door, pressing my back against it. Burke placed his hands on the door, on either side of my head, and gazed into my eyes, his lips hovering half an inch above mine.

I gripped handfuls of his shirt and did nothing to steady my breathing. I wanted him to see my body’s reaction to his nearness. I wanted him to see what he did to me.

When our lips finally touched, I let out a soft moan for him. He pulled those sounds from my lips — no one else. They were for Burke, so I’d let him hear every single one.

His kisses grew stronger and more urgent, and his breathing heavier. Burke let out his own little growl of pleasure as his lips traveled down my neck.

See? I did it to him, too.

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me down the hall to his bedroom. Our movements were wordless and seamless as we undressed each other. Burke lifted me onto his lap so that I straddled him and took my lower lip between his teeth, then he worked his way down to my nipples, taking each one in his mouth. I moaned louder and buried my hands in his hair.

I ached to feel him inside of me and tried to center myself on his cock, but he held my hips fast and stopped me. Burke trailed kisses up my neck and whispered one word in my ear. “Patience.”

Chills rushed down my spine, and I caught his lips with a slow, patient kiss. I felt him smile as he slid his hands up my back and deepened the kiss.

He flipped me onto my back and hovered over me, gazing into my eyes. “I love you, Charlie.” His deep voice vibrated against my body.

“I love you, Burke.” And then his lips crashed back down on mine. The wrong woman would have been alarmed by his strength and passion, but I craved it and met him breath for breath.

He broke the kiss. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so damn sorry I hurt you. You were right about everything, and I’m an ass.”

“You are an ass.”

“Can we fix this, cutie? Can I have you again?” He trailed kisses down my neck and whispered in my ear, “Please.”

“Burke, I showed up at your apartment at 1 am, and I’m now naked in your bed. Read the cues, baby.”

He laughed and nipped at my neck. “Fuck, I love you, Charlie.” He slid away from me to grab a condom, then hovered over me again, taking my mouth in hungry, biting kisses.

I shoved him off and sat up. “We’re going to make this work, but I swear to god, if you try to make decisions about us for ‘my own good’ ever again—"

Burke kissed me and swallowed up my empty threat. “I won’t.” He trailed kisses down my neck and pressed my thighs apart.

I gasped when he entered me and wrapped my legs around his waist, locking him in place. I moaned with every thrust of his hips and dug my nails into his back. Burke let out his own groan of pleasure.

For the next few minutes, it was only us — our bodies, our breath, our love.

When we finished, he held me and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry. Just promise you’ll never push me away again. Promise me you’ll fight for us no matter what people think.” I traced the tattoos on his chest and tilted my head to look at him.

He gave me that strange look again, like I took his breath away, and nodded. “I promise.”

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