Page 85 of The Love Lie
“Say it.”
He traces the scalloped edge of her thong, again, and again, and again, each pass making her pulse flutter a little more. He’s deliberate, patient, and calm. She’s practically panting when she finally relents.
“Fine. I missed you.”
“Good.”
He moves suddenly then, kicking her legs apart, gripping her around the waist with one arm while sliding the other home. With a gasp, she arches against him.
“Because I fucking missed you, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
cooper
“I knewwe wouldn’t make it to the bedroom,” Sam comments as she takes the wine from his outstretched hand. Their fingers brush. Even though he just had her, that single touch is a burning ember landing on an arid autumn plain—enough to spark a fire. “But I have to admit, I thought we’d make it more than ten feet inside the door.”
She’s perched on his kitchen counter wearing nothing but his dark blue flannel with two buttons strategically fastened for coverage. It would almost be easier if she were naked, because he can’t stop staring into those tauntingly deep shadows, fully aware of the bare skin waiting within if he just slipped his hand between the folds.
“What are you talking about?” Cooper forces his gaze away and glances over his shoulder. “It’s at least fifteen feet to the door.”
“Smart-ass.” She slaps him playfully on the bicep. “Are you going to let me go explore?”
He slides his palms up her exposed thighs, unable to keep away. “What exactly are you hoping to find?”
“Your hidden stash of Shania Twain paraphernalia, obviously.”
“Then you’re definitely not leaving.” He digs his fingers into her ass cheeks and pulls her against him. Putting his jeans back on was a stupid idea. It’s been five minutes and he’s already straining against them.
“Hey.” Sam puts her palms to his chest. “You promised me food.”
He leans down to nuzzle her neck. “I know.”
“And Wi-Fi.”
“I know.”
“And a shower.”
“That can be arranged.” He strokes her throat with his tongue.
“Cooper,” she says with a laugh as she pushes him. “I actually do need to pee so at least point me to a bathroom, and then I’m all yours.”
He steps back with a groan and grabs her around the waist to lower her off the counter, taking any excuse to keep touching her. “Second door on the right. I’ll get started on dinner. Steak okay?”
“It’s better than the Easy Mac you’d be getting from me.”
“You don’t like to cook?”
“It’s not that I don’t like to cook as a concept. I just don’t like to cook in my kitchen. It’s the size of a closet. Literally. There are two folding doors to close it off and everything.” She shrugs and runs her hand along his granite countertop, eying his kitchen island with a sigh. “It’s just easier to get takeout, especially since the company pays for it if I’m in the office past nine. Which I am. Every night.” She looks up at him suddenly. “Doyoucook a lot?”
“If I want to eat.”
He laughs at the confused expression on her face, then leans back against the fridge and crosses his arms. They spent almostevery night for two weeks on the phone with each other. How did this never come up? Actually, he’s sort of happy it didn’t, because now he gets to see the real-time, unfiltered reaction written all over her face.
“The closest restaurant to me is an hour and a half away, Cuj.”
“An hour and a half?”
