Page 42 of Flirty Thirty

“Really?” I say, hoping my voice stays light and flirtatious. “Given what I already know of you, I think this confession is actually coming a little late.”

A rare rush of pink tints his cheeks, and he groans, burying his face into the pillow by my head. The weight of his body should be killing me, but it actually feels so good that I’m having a hard time finding enough brain cells to talk to him about this. Most of them are working overtime in the hypothalamus department.

“I’m sorry,” he muffles into the feathers, and I nudge him back up to look him in the eye. If I’m being honest with myself, he’s the closest anyone’s ever come to being part of any future I could imagine. The fact still remains though that I don’t want children. I don’t want a settled life. This game we’re playing is far more dangerous than I thought, and the smart part of me knows that I should wriggle myself free. I should pack my bags, take my cats back home, and find Cooper a place to live so that we can both move on from this nonsense experiment. My mind and heart knows it’s the right thing to do, but my body aches with the thought. My body wants so much to be right here, underneath him, feeling his taut muscles against my soft curves. It’s so unfair to have this conversation in bed, because my heart and mind just have no chance of winning.

“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t fall for me.”

His eyes search mine, and while I can sense his disappointment I can also see the flirtatious side of him, that hungry male who has a ready and willing female at his disposal.

“It’s not fair to have this conversation with you underneath me.”

We finally have a shared thought. “You started it.”

He brings his lips down on mine, cupping my face again to hold me in place. The kiss is more urgent, more frantic than his slow build, and I drown in it, let it erase our dialogue, erase my guilt and allow me to focus on only the sensations he causes under my skin.

His thumb strokes down the side of my face, making me shiver with anticipation. It’s so incredibly titillating to have such a simple caress cause such havoc in my body. My nipples harden under the weight of his chest, and the small amount of uncovered skin on my stomach burns against his abdominals. I feel as if there is another version of me trying to claw her way out. I roll my hips, faster and faster, getting closer to my eminent release.

“Maya,” Cooper grunts between our lips, distracting me for a moment. “Not that I want you to stop, but… could you please move your cat?”

Shocking me out of the moment, I lift my head to find Kat rubbing up against Cooper’s leg. A giggle slips from my lips, shaking my stomach against his heated skin.

“Of all the times to cuddle,” I mutter, pushing the ball of my foot into the kitten’s fur and nudging her off my man. “It’s never this one,” I tell Cooper, my chest bumping up against his as I try to give us some privacy. “It’s the fat one you gotta watch out for.”

“You mean the one who looks like he’s capable of murder?” Cooper nods up above my head to Tom “innocently” strolling across the pillows and leveling Cooper with a possessive stare. He plops on his hind legs and sets a paw atop my head.

I cover my face with my hand, closing my eyes as I giggle against Cooper’s hard, hot body.

“Why’d you want them here?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You do realize that this is what you should expect withchildren.” I tilt my head in an arrogant know-it-all fashion that is probably not the most attractive thing. “Why do you think my brother needed a babysitter?”

He silently chuckles at my point. “There will be a lock on my bedroom door.”

“And that will stop little fingers from appearing through the crack by the floor?”

“I’ll kick a pillow over there.” He flattens against me, eyes flicking to the cat for a brief second before he rests his head on the heel of his hand. “Kids don’t prevent moments like these.” His finger taps the tip of my nose. “That’s how people have more than one.”

It takes everything in me to bite back my retort. Moments like these don’t happen to longtime couples. I can’t think of a time that was drawn out and savored after the first month or so, even with those I considered steady boyfriends. My sister, who is all too eager to hand out details about her sex life, has yet to describe a moment like this one. It’s all quickies and interrupted orgasms. Even Holland with zero little distractions running around—yet—says her love life has lost its luster.

I blink up to his beautiful blue eyes swimming in hope and happiness—a surprising childlike quality to a man who is such stable ground. A wave rushes over me, and I catch myself before tipping over. I could easily fall into him without thinking twice.

Tom shifts above me, and I reach up and gently shove him over, ignoring his low mewls. With both my fur babies on the floor, I run a hand over the scruff on Cooper’s chin, goosebumps cascading across my ribs at the coarse, manliness of it. He watches me in quiet reverence, fingers clenching into the sheets by my hip, and I grin at the restraint he’s showing. This feeling is the one I don’t want to lose: feeling sexy, desirable, in control and losing control all at once. It’s the primal urges, the fun and animalistic desire to lose yourself in intense pleasure from someone new. It’s the curiosity, the mystery… it’s reading a book for the first time, jumping at a surprise you didn’t see coming, hopping on a rollercoaster and not realizing it has a an upside-down loop.

For all that adventure and anticipation buzzing under my skin, there’s a trace of trepidation with Cooper that throws me off balance for a moment. Will sleeping with him ruin the excitement I have whenever I see his face, hear his voice, touch his skin? Will it ruin it like it ruined all the others? The thought is far more devastating than I expected, and my fingers still against his jaw as I let it all process.

His eyes swivel between mine, sensing that I’m having an overthinking moment. He grins, his dimple creasing underneath my touch, and reaches up to twine his fingers with mine. He presses light kisses to each one of my knuckles before letting go to smooth my hair away from my face.

“How long’s it been?” he asks.

“Is it that obvious?”

He shakes his head. “Two years for me.”

I choke on the air between our lips, and he chuckles.

“Don’t act so surprised.”

“But you’re… you’re…” I gesture to him as if that’s explanation enough.