Combust (The Wellingtons #1) (32 page)

The images of last night roll through my mind, and I smile to myself as I recall the way I nearly crumbled underneath him when his mouth was on me. Slowly, my hand trails down his torso, not leaving a single inch untouched as I memorize every hard line and ridge, more than enjoying how he’s filled out over the years.

Holding my breath, I slide my hand beneath the sheet as I get closer to his morning erection. Just as my fingertips brush the smooth, silky head of him, a hand comes up and takes hold of mine, stopping me in my tracks. Shifting my eyes, I release my breath when I see Cohen peering down at me with amusement in his eyes. He brings our joined hands up to his lips and gives mine a soft kiss.

“What are you doing, Ruby?”

I blink twice and try to give him my most innocent smile before sliding up his body and pressing a kiss to his grinning lips. “I thought maybe you slept naked so we could get a head start this morning on catching up on everything we’ve been missing out on. Because this body? Yeah, I’ve definitely been missing out.” It’s a mouthful, and at the thought, I realize that I want a different kind of mouthful.

Cohen rubs a hand over his face, and as I crush my body against his, I can feel his hard length thickening underneath me. He rolls me off him until I’m flat on my back with him hovering beside me. I shiver with anticipation as he brings a finger up to my bare chest, where he slowly traces circles around my nipple. His gaze is heated as he looks down at me.

“Someone wore me out last night and I was too exhausted to get up and get dressed. Plus, I kind of like the idea of waking up to you naked and willing. It could prove to be dangerous though,” he warns as his hand descends and cups the space in between my legs.

My breath hitches as I anticipate his touch, but he doesn’t move his hand. Instead, he just looks down at me, his eyes flashing with want.

“So very dangerous,” he whispers as his lips come down to meet mine. His kiss is slow, sensual, and so full of promise of the danger that may loom ahead if we keep this up. All too soon, he’s pulling away, and I have to stifle a whimper at the lost contact. “We’ll pick this up later, baby. We’ve got to hit the road soon if we want to get to Belle Meade on time.”

The mention of his hometown and the implications have the same effect as being doused by cold water, and I’m no longer turned on beyond belief. Even if I could talk Cohen into a quickie blow job, I don’t think I could perform well now that I’ve been reminded of the impending meeting-the-parents brunch. Jumping up, I’m all too aware that I’m in Cohen’s bed, at Cohen’s apartment, and all I have to wear is the sexy, black dress I had on last night.

I frantically search the room for my bra and panties, having no idea where Cohen threw them when he so expertly removed them from my body. “A little help please?” I pause what I’m doing to give Cohen a dirty look.

He’s sprawled on the bed with his hands behind his head, silently watching me with a smirk on his face. Looking down, I’m suddenly aware that I’m completely naked. If the tent in the sheet that’s covering him is any indication, he likes what he sees, and I wish more than anything that he had the time to show me. My glare only causes him to grin before he leans over and pulls my thong out from under his pillow. He throws it at me, and I slip it on before spotting my bra at the end of the bed.

“Cohen, you have to take me back to my place so I can get ready. There’s no way in hell I’m meeting your mother in last night’s clothes.” He just sits there watching me, and a small pout crosses his lips when I cover my breasts with my bra. “Seriously, get up!”

He finally does, and the sheet falls slowly down his body, revealing all of him—every glorious, naked inch. I breathe a heavy sigh and give him a look of longing, wishing we had more time. He crosses the room and brings his hands up to unclasp my bra before he pushes it off my shoulders and onto the floor.

“I’ll take you back to your place, but first things first. I think you got a little dirty last night, Ruby, and it’s my job to make sure I wash every single inch.”

Without another word, he pulls my thong off and I hold his shoulders as I step out of it. He leads me to the shower, where he does his job, not missing a single spot on my body.

AS WE pull into a gated neighborhood, my stomach tightens and my palms start to sweat. I’m beginning to second-guess my decision to join him, but since it’s obviously too late, I will myself to calm down. I guess I’m just nervous because, for the past week, we’ve been in our own little blissful bubble. Sure, my roommates have been around and we don’t skimp on the PDA when we’re on campus, but there hasn’t been a huge public declaration that we’re a couple. No phone calls to tell Mom that I have a boyfriend, no relationship status changes on Facebook—which, incidentally, neither of us even has to begin with.

It dawns on me that I have no idea how Cohen is going to introduce me, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to act like a good friend or his girlfriend. I guess this is kind of the first test for us. Wringing my hands together, I set them in my lap and tell myself to stop overthinking things.

Cohen must sense my apprehension, because he looks over at me and takes hold of one of my hands. “I’ve never met anyone who thinks as loudly as you do, Ruby,” he says. “What’s going on in that pretty, red head of yours?”

“If I’m thinking so loudly, then shouldn’t you already know what’s on my mind?” I ask with a smile on my face, grateful that just a little bit of teasing from him can put me at ease.

I think this is why it was so easy to jump right into a relationship with him. Everything about us is comfortable. That’s not to say that it’s boring, but unlike most new relationships, I don’t have the early relationship jitters, wondering if he’s going to wake up the next day and realize that he doesn’t want to be with me. No, it’s not like that at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Every day spent together feels right, like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, with whom I’m meant to be with, and instead of feeling smothered, I’m quickly becoming used to having Cohen as a part of my daily life.

In all reality, it should scare the hell out of me. In a few short months, we’ll both be graduating, and I know he’s heading right off to Memphis to pursue medical school. As for me, I have no clue what I’m going to do. Dad keeps pushing graduate school on me, but I really just want to hit the streets and start my journalism career. Either way, I have no idea what the future holds for me and Cohen, and I try not to dwell on it. It’s way too soon to even be considering the future, let alone discussing it with him.

“Are you wishing you hadn’t been so quick to agree to brunch?” he asks astutely, almost as if he really could hear my thoughts.

“It’s not that. I’m just nervous, I guess. I haven’t been in a relationship long enough to meet the parents since I was in high school. And I certainly never would’ve considered taking this step after just a week. What do they even know about me? Am I Andi, the girl you’re tutoring and spending time with, or Andi, the girl you claimed as yours after just one date? The one who was screaming your name last night and wants to turn back around and get back in bed so she can do it again?”

Cohen chuckles as he puts the car in park. He’s distracted me enough that I didn’t even realize we’d pulled up to his parents’ house, and before I can get all crazy inside my head, he turns towards me, his hand still holding mine. His other comes up to cup my face as his thumb caresses my cheek.

“This is going to sound cliché. And I’m beginning to realize that, when it comes to you, I’m a walking, talking cliché. Ruby,” he says, his tone so reverent it leaves me breathless, “I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was twelve years old. You’re the first girl I’ve ever brought home who wasn’t a study partner or a friend. Granted, you’re technically both, but you’re so much more than that. When we walk through those doors, you’re meeting my family as my girlfriend. For the first time in my life, I want to introduce my family to the woman in my life, and she just so happens to be you. This just feels right. Trust me. It shocks even me, but I want them to meet you. You once were my great ‘the one that got away’ and I’m going to work like hell to make sure that never happens again. You’re not just my friend, and you’re definitely not just the girl I’m tutoring. You’re mine, Ruby. And I hope that you consider me yours.”

Stupid, hot tears form in my eyes and I shake my head, trying to get them to go away, but it’s no use. His words penetrate my heart, and emotional shockwaves at the force of my feelings for him meet the more logical brainwaves that are telling me that as right as it is, it’s still crazy. They crash together, and I feel conflicted, but my emotions win out. Who says love has to be logical?

Deep down, I know that this is what I want—he is what I want. I don’t want to be the one who got away, and my own fears are what ruined things last time. I know it deep down in my soul, and instead of getting freaked out at how fast things are happening, I accept it. It’s not like it’s a marriage proposal. We’re dating—exclusively. He’s my boyfriend. He’s mine. All mine. The thought is overwhelming, yet at the same time, giddiness bubbles up inside me like a volcano that’s just been biding its time, waiting for the right chemical reaction to cause it to erupt.

“I’ve new to this whole ownership thing, but if you’re telling me I’m allowed to lay claim to this,” I tell him, my fingers trailing down his chest, “and that,” I say with a grin as I spy the bulge in his shorts, “and most important of all, this,” I whisper as I bring my hand up to rest on his heart, “then, yes, Cohen. You’re mine.”

The smile on his face is dazzling, and it doesn’t disappear even as he leans in to kiss me. “That,” he growls, “will be yours in due time, but for now, can we please get through brunch without my dick threatening to tear out of my jeans?”

Laughing, I give him a peck and place my hand on the door handle. “Okay, okay. No more teasing. Let’s get this show on the road. How about it, Cohen? Are you ready to introduce your family to your first girlfriend?”

“I’m more than ready, Ruby,” he responds.

I watch as he exits the car and comes around to open my door, taking my hand and leading me up to the house. Instead of knocking or ringing the doorbell, Cohen opens the door and pulls me inside to a long hallway with a huge wall filled with family photos. I’m checking out the pictures and don’t notice that Cohen’s pulling me away until it’s too late.

All of a sudden, I find myself in a large, beautiful kitchen, my body pressed up against his side. An older woman with beautiful, blonde hair and fair skin looks at us with kind eyes while a younger woman, a pretty brunette, gives Cohen a knowing smile before she turns her grin on me. Something about her smile puts me at ease, and like an idiot, I give a stupid wave and then look down at my toes, where I mentally chastise myself for not repainting them, and then I chastise myself for caring what the hell my toes look like when I have more important things to worry about. Looking back up, I can see both women grinning at me, causing my nerves to flare up again.

“Mom, Charlie,” Cohen says, his voice sounding so much more confident than I’m feeling. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Andi. Babe, this is my mom and Knox’s much, much better half, Charlie.”

He barely gets the words out before both women are bum-rushing us. His mom throws her arms around me and gives me a hug, and his brother’s girlfriend piles right on. It’s not until Cohen clears his throat that they give me space. His mom gives me an apologetic look as her hands brace my shoulders.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Andi. I’m Amelia. We’re so happy you’re joining us for brunch this morning,” she tells me, giving me a warm smile. She has a slow, Southern drawl that reminds me of my own mom, and a sense of comfort washes over me. Even in the most uncomfortable of situations, Southern hospitality always makes one feel at ease, and Amelia Wellington does just that.

“Thank you for having me, Amelia. I know it was unexpected. You have a lovely home,” I tell her, and she waves me off.

“With all my boys gone, it’s way too big. But we always have room for them to come back if they need…” Her words trail off.

The brunette is next to shove her hand in my face. “Hi, Andi. I’m Charlotte—but everyone calls me Charlie. Sorry I kind of conned you into coming, but like Amelia said, we’re so happy you’re here with Cohen. Knox was starting to get worried that he’d scared all the girls away with his love of petri dishes. You’re definitely a sight for sore eyes.”

Cohen winces at her teasing, and I see Amelia give him a sympathetic smile.

Laughing, I can’t stop myself from leaning towards her. “Just so you know, if it weren’t for his nerdy love of petri dishes, I wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t know what kind of girls he dated before me, but his brain is just as sexy as his six-pack, and if he wants to spend his time experimenting, I’m certainly not going to be the one to stop him.”

Charlie pulls back and studies me, and I wonder if I was a little too bold. What the hell. It’s absolutely ridiculous that anyone would think Cohen can’t get women because of his scientific preferences, and if I have to make an ass of myself to make them see that, then so be it.