Page 49 of Bedding the Biker Next Door

“That sounded like a good one.” He spun them around, then fell back on the bed, taking her with him.

“Take me, Cole. I’m so wet for you,” Jill said. She wanted him now, but he tsked.

“Not yet. I want to look at you.” He took her in with his eyes and hands. “Is your arm okay?”

“Forget about my arm. Other parts of me are about to explode.”

Cole’s hands gripped her hips, not letting her move, denying her. The small smile on his lips told her he was teasing her, making her want it, beg for it, and she made a mental note to tease him this way someday.

“Not yet…” he said, teasing himself, too.

She watched him slide the condom on. Finally, he slid his hands down to cup her backside, and she plunged over and down on him. She arched her back, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. She moved over him, grinding her clit against the base of his cock, pressing against his hard body then deliberately easing back, wanting to prolong the heavenly sensations.

“Oh, God, Jill…” He moaned.

She smiled. Now she got to drive him crazy.

Chapter Nineteen

The next day, Jill and Cole spent a lazy morning together. After taking her to lunch at a nearby bistro, he told her he needed to leave for a few hours to see to her new security system. Now, standing by the door, she watched Cole get ready to leave.

“Make yourself at home. And call me if you need anything. Anything, Jill.” Cole lingered, patting his pockets and double checking everything.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll get some rest, listen to some music, give Liz a call…” She waved her hand around. “I’ll keep myself occupied, okay? If I get really bored, I’ll bench press.”

“Wha…?” He caught her stifling a giggle. “Oh, funny.” He leaned over for what looked like a quick peck, but he kissed her slowly and softly, his hands gentle on her body even as she wanted much more.

But she shooed him away. She didn’t want him to be late because of her.

Finally, he pulled back, laying several more soft kisses on her forehead and face, covering the bruises. It almost brought tears to her eyes, but she wanted to stay upbeat to see him off.

“You look pretty damn hot in that leather jacket,” she said, eyeing him up and down. He smelled incredible, too.

“Maybe I’ll let you take it off later on.” He flashed one last grin before shutting the door.

This domestic life wasn’t so bad, she thought with a mischievous chuckle. She could get used to it.

Though she felt stupid for doing so, she double checked the lock. Now that she was alone, it was hard to push away her anxiety. A few times, she startled at small sounds, and other times, she jumped like someone was about to tackle her. But in Cole’s apartment she felt safe, and she was determined not to let one criminal make her feel otherwise.

She refreshed her coffee and sat down to think. After Cole had been so gentle and understanding last night, she’d spent hours lying awake in his arms. The conclusion she’d come to both thrilled and scared her. He was right. They couldn’t know what the future held. What mattered was right now, and right now she was going to give them a chance. To do that, she had to tell him the truth about her health—that she might be a burden some day. She’d have to tell him about her cancer scare and her father’s early onset Alzheimer’s.

And she had to tell him the worst part—that she had a fifty percent chance of inheriting the same gene.

Or maybe she didn’t, she thought, suddenly chickening out. Maybe she should take Liz’s advice and get tested first. She just wasn’t sure.

Jill poured herself a glass of orange juice and was leaning against the counter browsing the internet on her phone searching for genetic counselors when she accidentally bumped the glass over. “Crap.” She quickly reached for some paper towels to clean it up. As she did, she saw what appeared to be an envelope torn in half. It was addressed to Cole, the handwriting a masculine slash.

She left it where it was. After all, her parents had not taught her to be a snoop, but her imagination went wild. Vaguely, she remembered Cole’s mom mentioning that his father wasn’t part of their lives. That he’d sent Cole a letter every year for the past five years, but Cole had never opened them. He hadn’t wanted to know who his father was, not after he’d abandoned them for over two decades of his life.

Was this one of those letters? She took a peek at the time stamp and saw it was a week after Stella died. Cole had torn it up. And now, here it was. And there she was, fingers and eyes itching to touch it.

* * *

While Cole was gone, Jill watched some mindless TV before making several calls. First to Liz, to make sure the daycare schedule had been arranged. They were going to open again in a few days. She checked in with police, but they still had no suspects in the break-in of her home. She hung up, set her cell phone on the counter, and thought about taking a nap. After all, she was emotionally drained, as well as physically, but then she saw she had two voice messages.

First, Cole’s smooth voice came on the line. “Hey, sweetie, just seeing how it’s going and if you need anything. Looks like you’re on the phone. Hope you’re relaxing.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. After he’d called her darlin’ that one time and she hadn’t liked it, she’d noticed he’d taken care not to use casual endearments with her. But the way he’d just called her sweetie sounded genuine. Like it was an endearment reserved for her alone. She repeated the message just so she could hear it again and again, loving the deep, rich tones in his masculine voice.

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