Make Me Yours (8 page)

After dinner we sat inside on the leather sectional, soft music playing in the background. Ashlyn and Aiden cuddled together in the center, which left Cohen and I sitting on the two furthest ends, apart from each other. I sipped my wine, and scrolled through Ashlyn’s iPod, skipping through her playlists to find something I liked. Each time I looked up, I couldn’t help but notice Cohen’s eyes were on mine. I felt the tingle of butterflies dancing in my stomach, but told myself to let it go. He knew what he was looking for—and it wasn’t me.

About an hour later, Ashlyn suggested that we go in the hot tub out on the deck, and we all went to change. Cohen and I headed upstairs to our shared loft bedroom. He grabbed a pair of swim trunks from his backpack and went into the bathroom. I pulled my string bikini out from my suitcase and laid it out on the bed. I took my time undressing, finding I was a little uncoordinated from the wine, and buzzing with the secret desire that Cohen would catch me half-naked.

I removed my tank top and bra, and laid them on top of my suitcase. My breasts felt achy and full, and hungry for Cohen’s mouth and hands. Next, I slid off my shorts and panties and stepped into the plum-colored, barely-there bikini bottoms. I didn’t hear any sounds coming from the bathroom, but it was still easy to imagine what Cohen would look like undressed. I’d seen him without a shirt plenty of times, and just that was enough to send my libido into overdrive. He was perfect. I draped the bikini top across my chest, just when the bathroom door opened.

“Oh, sorry.” Cohen’s voice sounded thick and deep behind me.

“It’s okay. Can you tie me up?” I turned to face him, holding the cups in place over my breasts, and watched as Cohen’s gaze caressed my bare skin.

“Sure,” he murmured.

I turned so my back was facing him and he gently gathered up the strings and began tying them. The brush of his fingertips against my skin caused me to break out in chill bumps.

“Cold again, babe?” Cohen ran one fingertip down my spine, and I was so desperate for his touch I nearly whimpered. “Come here,” he whispered, so close I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

I turned to face him and standing barefoot, I barely cleared his chin. He gathered me up into his arms and pulled me in close. The contact of his bare chest against mine was heavenly. My soft curves molded to his firm body easily. I felt him swallow roughly, and then he separated us, the moment becoming too intimate between us. I sensed Cohen’s will weakening, but even more than that, I was starting to have real feeling for him. Which is why when he removed me from his embrace by holding me at arm’s length, I didn’t protest.

“Come on, they’re probably waiting for us.” He tugged my hand, harder than necessary, and led me to the stairs.

After grabbing some towels, we headed out onto the deck and found Aiden and Ashlyn already in the hot tub.

I slipped into the warmth and let out a groan. It felt amazing. It was a beautiful night, starlit and balmy-warm.

Cohen followed me into the hot tub, which instantly felt smaller when he was situated just a foot from me.

Ashlyn scooted onto Aiden’s lap and threw her arms around his neck. “This is fantastic. Thanks for thinking of this getaway for us.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “Of course, baby.”

I twisted my hair in a bun and sank down further into the water, letting it cover my shoulders, hoping the heat would relax me. Cohen glanced at me and smiled. It was more of a nervous grin than anything else.

After a few minutes of soaking and a whispered conversation, Ashlyn and Aiden climbed out of the water, saying they were going to call it a night, which left Cohen and I sitting alone in the hot water. We sat quietly for a while, just enjoying the stillness of the night. A few minutes later, the silence was broken by voices.

Voices that were making gasping and moaning sounds.

Oh my.

I turned to look at the cabin, realizing the window facing the deck was Ashlyn and Aiden’s bedroom. And the window was open. Ashlyn’s cries grew in volume until she finally choked out, “Ah, Aiden, you’re so big.”

Cohen’s eyes widened and locked on mine. He pulled in a deep breath and shook his head. “Wow, they’re really going at it in there.”

I chuckled nervously. “Sounds like it.”

Ashlyn and Aiden’s loud fucking continued for several minutes, and with each passing second, the vibe around Cohen and I grew heavier, and more intense.

“I need a drink. Do you need a drink?” Cohen said, suddenly standing and exiting the water.

“Um, sure. I’ll take a wine.”

I reached over and turned the jets on, which drowned out a fraction of the noise. I considered pressing myself up against the bubbling stream of water to relieve some tension, but instead took a deep breath and clenched my thighs together.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of the time I’d walked in on their lovemaking in Ashlyn’s living room. I’d made a joke of it at the time, leaning against the wall munching on crackers as I watched, simply because I wouldn’t have been able to otherwise process what I saw without downplaying it. It was the most passionate, uninhibited display of love I’d ever witnessed. And it scared the shit out of me. I’d acted cool and like I found the whole thing funny as a way to fool myself into believing that it was put on, an act. But what I witnessed between them was seared into my memory. You found love like that maybe once in a lifetime, if you were lucky.

Cohen returned a second later with our drinks and slipped back into the water with me. “Damn, it’s even louder inside.”

“I’ll bet.” I took the glass of wine from him and immediately took a healthy swig. Despite my best attempts at getting and staying buzzed today, the intensity of my attraction to Cohen seemed to keep me mostly sober.

Positioned directly across from him, I couldn’t help but notice his eyes lingering on my breasts. I sat up straighter, pushing them above the waterline and Cohen nearly choked on his beer. I bit my lip to avoid smiling. His weakness was so easy to exploit.

The loud groans and noises of energetic sex continued and even ramped up a notch when Aiden and Ashlyn’s headboard started banging against the wall.

Unable to escape the erotic sounds, I found myself getting more and more turned on. I couldn’t help that a drop of silky heat dampened my bikini bottoms. It was a very intimate experience, hearing every moan, every gasp and grunt, and I knew it was affecting us both. Cohen shifted in his seat, with an uncomfortable look on his face. He alternated his attention between his beer and staring down into the water. But twice more I caught him looking at my chest. Oh God, how badly I wanted him to do something about it. I imagined him tackling me and stripping me of my bathing suit, and bending me over the edge of the hot tub.

When the sounds reached an ear-deafening level for a final outburst from Ashlyn, and then finally died down our eyes met again. It was almost comical how thick with tension the air around us had gotten. But neither of us laughed.

“Think it’s safe to go in?” I asked.

He nodded stiffly.

I climbed out of the hot tub first and draped a towel around my shoulders. I turned to hand Cohen a towel as he was coming out of the water, and there was no avoiding it. He was hard as a rock. He grabbed the towel from me and held it in front of himself, where his thick erection strained against the swim shorts.

I thought maybe we’d joke about the awkwardness of the moment—of listening to my best friends fuck at top volume—but his face was serious, his jaw set tense.

He took off past me into the house without another word.

I stood there, stunned at what had just happened. Cohen was turned on. And he desperately wanted to get away from me.

He didn’t trust himself around me.

The thought was intoxicating. I headed inside to find him.

I wouldn’t push things farther than he wanted them to go. We didn’t have to have sex. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t have a little fun in the meantime. We were attracted to each other, and we were adults. Period.

I crept through the now silent house, feeling strangely alive—all my senses were heightened in my search for Cohen and with the thought of what might happen next. I headed up the stairs to our loft while nerves prickled my skin and an entire colony of butterflies danced inside my stomach.

It was quiet and empty when I reached our bedroom, but I could see light coming from behind the closed bathroom door.

Summoning my courage and feeling bolder than I should, I knocked on the door. “Cohen?”

“Go away, Liz.” His voice was muffled, but the tone was clear. He wanted to be left alone. And I couldn’t help but notice that I was Liz now.

“Cohen, please open the door.”

I waited and practically felt him making the weighty decision, one that would forever change our relationship. A second later the lock clicked and the door opened just a crack. He wasn’t exactly inviting me in, but leaving the choice up to me. If that made him feel better, then so be it. I knew what I wanted.

I pushed the door open and found him standing at the vanity in front of the mirror. His erection seemed to have grown, if that was even possible, and I could see his pulse thrumming in his neck.

My heart almost broke. I wanted to touch him, to make this better, to relieve his aching tension. “Cohen,” I whispered. “Let me.”

His eyes fell closed at the sound of my voice, and everything my words implied. He turned to face me, and I reached for his waistband and nimbly began undoing the tie that held his shorts together.

He swallowed roughly. I could see him deciding if he should stop me. “Eliza…”

“Shh. Let me take care of it. Please.”

He groaned in relief.

With the tie now free, I eased the shorts down low on his hips, and his impressive erection jutted out in front of him. My knees buckled with the desire to drop down and take him into my mouth. But I couldn’t rush this. I couldn’t rush him. I wanted this too badly.

He was beautiful. His thick cock was tense and begging for attention. “What do you want?” I whispered, looking up at him.

He brought his hand to my jaw and rubbed a slow circle along my skin. “Touch me.”

I brought my hands to his sides and trailed them down his belly and over the soft trace of hair below his navel. When I gripped his shaft, he sucked in a deep breath and held it. His cock was warm and solid in my palm. I trailed the pad of my thumb over the swollen head, spreading the bead of fluid that had already accumulated there.

I stroked him slowly savoring the newness, the feel of him, watching the way his chest rose and fell. It’d been a long time since I’d given a hand job but I was bound and determined to make this the best damn hand job ever.

His hand hadn’t left my jaw, and he pulled me in to his mouth and kissed me, soft at first, then parting my lips to stroke his tongue with mine.

His kiss was intoxicating. The warmth of his mouth, the skilled way his tongue flirted with mine. Knowing we probably weren’t going to have sex heightened all my senses and my brain commanded that I pay attention to every touch, each sensation, it was a completely different experience than I was used to. It was all about the buildup rather than a single moment of bliss.

I pushed him toward the vanity so his backside was leaning against the edge of the counter, and tugged his shorts lower. It was time to get down to business. I couldn’t wait any longer to have his beautiful cock all to myself and watch him spurt all over his stomach.

I reached behind him into my bathroom bag on the counter. I found the bottle of coconut tanning oil I’d brought and squirted some into my palm. The oil instantly warmed on my skin and when I brought my hand to him, he inhaled sharply. “Fuck, Eliza,” he breathed, pulling me closer by the back of my neck. I smiled as his lips met mine.

The scent of coconut surrounded us as I worked my hand up and down his cock. “Oh fuck, fuck, that feels amazing babe,” he whispered. My lips curled into a devilish grin and I kissed him again.

I felt his hands tugging at the strings of my bikini top, and I almost laughed, surprised it had taken him this long to go for them. Once the top was untied, it fell free to the floor and I stood before him, pushing my naked chest out for his appraisal.

I slowed my pace while he drank me in. He swallowed roughly and brought both hands up to cup my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. The desire reflected in his eyes shot a throbbing pulse straight to my clit. God, I wanted this man. I wanted him to make me his.

He dipped his head to kiss my breasts, pressing them together with his palms. He ran his tongue along my cleavage, teasing me. I wanted to feel his mouth on my hardened nubs, but he continued his soft, tortuous kisses. I wanted more, so much more, but if this was all I could have, I would take it, eagerly.

He continued nibbling and sucking on my breasts while my oil-slicked palm slid up and down between us.

My breasts jiggled with the effort of pumping my hand up and down, and our movements reflected back at us from the mirror made the experience all the more intimate. There was no hiding, no closed eyes, and no darkness to shield us.

Without warning he groaned out his release, burying his face in my neck.

I watched as a puddle of warm, white semen squirted onto his stomach and mine. We were both breathing hard when he kissed me.

“Why’d you do that?” he whispered against my lips.

“Because I wanted to.”

He grabbed a handful of tissues and cleaned me off first, then himself.

“What about you?” he whispered.

My heart rate skyrocketed, but I tried to appear composed as possible, shrugging at his question rather than answering it directly. I was desperate for his touch, but only if he wanted to touch me.

He kissed my lips softly then bent down, pressing damp kisses along my collarbone. He lowered himself farther to thoroughly suckle at each of my breasts, before dropping to his knees in front of me. I tossed my head back, in complete amazement at his talented mouth. He worked his way lower, kissing my belly, my hip bones. My heart was beating so erratically it felt like it was about to burst from my chest.