Part 12 (1/2)

But at least I'm in good company. With a grunt, Cole slips the b.u.t.ton loose on my jeans and spins me around. ”Put your hands on the door, Hailey.”

With a cry, I close my eyes, pressing them shut as I do as I'm told. Antic.i.p.ation pings through my entire body. Yes.

He jerks my jeans down my hips, taking my underwear with them.

”We're not f.u.c.king done.” He smoothes his hand over my bare a.s.s and I whimper as he dips lower and finds me slippery and ready for him. ”You have a problem with that?”

”Yes,” I grind out.

”You have a problem with this?” He swirls his fingertips around my c.l.i.t before teasing my opening.

I'm breathing hard. No.

”You need to say it, Hailey.”

”No, I don't have a problem with this, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I want you.”

”Then we're not f.u.c.king done.” He thrusts one finger deep inside me, then adds another on the second slide, stretching me wide. I clench around his fingers, needing more.

He gives it to me. Swearing under his breath, Cole unzips, and the next thing I feel is his c.o.c.k, big and hard, pressing against me from behind. With one hand, he jerks my hips an inch higher and I press onto my tiptoes as I arch my back, desperate for him to slide inside.

We both groan when he gets the angle right and surges into me. He fills me right to the point of gasping. Pleasure isn't the right word-I'm still aching from the night before, and in this position he feels bigger than ever before. It also feels different. Hotter, rougher, and more intense. So good.

I never want him to stop.

He slowly drags in and out, his ragged breaths matching my own as I press back against him on each thrust.

”Mine,” he says so quietly I barely hear him. The single word is as erotic as any kiss or caress, and a fresh flood of my arousal lubricates his erection, making it easier for him to f.u.c.k me. He repeats the word, a little louder this time, and I cry out when he grabs my hips, hard, and drives even deeper than before.

”Don't stop,” I beg.

He doesn't.

His brutal rhythm makes my eyes water and drives my pulse into my throat.

I love it.

I need it.

And I'm so d.a.m.n close, but he's f.u.c.king me against the door in his office.

Coming is easier said than done. As if he senses that I'm riding the edge and can't get high enough, he slows down. He squeezes my hip, then shoves his hand under my s.h.i.+rt and cups one breast as he leans over my back.

”Please make me come.” I say it quietly, but then he tweaks my nipple and I gasp his name, louder this time.

”Hush, beautiful.”

”Shut up and f.u.c.k me,” I gasp, the command roaring out of me in a very un-Hailey-like fas.h.i.+on.

He does just that, stroking my breast and using his words to add that something extra I need to the perfect penetration that's gotten me so close. ”You're mine, Hailey,” he growls in my ear as I press my lips together to keep from screaming as I come hard.

As soon as I finish spasming around him, he pulls out and jerks himself off against my a.s.s, the wet slide of his hand on his c.o.c.k and his increasingly fast breaths the only sounds in the room as I stand there, bare-a.s.sed and shaking, leaning against the door.

The hot, wet splash of his come hitting my lower back is a surreal cherry on top of the angriest s.e.x I've ever had. It's made worse by the fact that I think the anger was all one-sided.

I slide a glance over my shoulder as he wipes me up with something. His unders.h.i.+rt. At some point he took off his jacket, which is on the floor, and now he's bare-chested.

I turn around and wiggle back into my pants, trying hard not to touch him.

Why does he have to be so disgustingly beautiful? All chiseled muscle. And deep in the middle of that perfectly carved chest is a heart. Black and brittle on the outside, but there's a tiny part of him that calls me his.

d.a.m.n him. I can't handle being his.

”We done here?” I pour as much disdain into those three words as I can muster. Turns out, I can muster a lot.

His head snaps up at the ice in my voice. He stares at me for a minute before turning and going to a closet in the corner, where he pulls out a dress s.h.i.+rt and puts it on. ”Sure. I should get to work. Give me a minute to wash up and I'll get Tag to escort you home.”

”I can find him.”

He nods, not looking at me. ”I didn't use a condom. I'm sorry. If you need something...”

”Yeah, I noticed. Thanks for asking. I'm on the Pill. I a.s.sume all of your secret affairs put you in the high-risk category, so-”

”I've never done that before,” he says, cutting me off, but he doesn't match my p.i.s.sed-off tone. ”I get tested. I'm clean.”

I sigh. I'm really mad about the lack of a condom. Cole would never put me at risk, and I could have told him to stop. I would have if I wasn't protected against pregnancy. ”I'm sorry. I trust you.” It takes all my effort to force myself to add something that will push him away. ”With my body, anyway.”

He stiffens, and I turn away. It's time for me to leave before I do any further damage.

”Hailey.”

I look back at him, keeping my hand on the door handle. I am leaving, no matter what he says.

But he just steps close enough to hold out a hard plastic card. ”Take this. It's a pa.s.s card to the office. It works on the elevator and in the stairwell. Access to both floors. If you ever need...”

I stare at the unmarked white card that tells me he trusts me with everything. My heart cracks. ”I can't take that.”

”I can't let you go unless you do.” He presses it into my hand, his fingertips grazing the inside of my wrist as he flattens his palm against mine. ”Up to you if you ever use it.”

”You already gave me your apartment key,” I whisper.

”So you've got some options.”

I wish I didn't know a dozen ways I might need those options some day. I stare at our hands, just barely touching. Cole's entire world between our palms.

-four-.