Revving Her Up (10 page)

She was trapped between the spray’s onslaught and Cole’s hips. Sensations buffeted her body, radiating from her pussy, sweeping up and down her spine. The orgasm that had been building slowly rose up, swamping under a wash of pleasure as she shot over the edge.

“Yes, yes. Oh God, yes!” Cole’s arm tightened around her as her knees buckled. A joyful cry drowned out the sound of the massager. It took Sarah a moment to recognize it as her own voice. Cole’s shout joined her chorus as he climaxed behind her. His hot come spurted onto her back.

Slowly, the ripples subsided. Cole brought his other arm around her, holding her against his chest. Her body felt heavy, but joy bubbled inside her like champagne. Her first climax in months. She wasn’t broken. Tears welled up in her eyes as a smile spread across her face. This time she didn’t try to hide from his gaze. “Thank you,” she said, looking at him in the mirror. “Thank you.”

“I thought you were beautiful the moment I laid eyes on you, darlin’, but when you smile it’s like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.” He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She laughed. “Anytime.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

What did that mean? Sarah’s gaze went to his face, but he’d turned to adjust the water.

After rinsing her back with the massager’s spray, he tucked it back into its clip on the wall. The memory of his hot release on her back made an orgasmic aftershock run through her body. The things he made her feel…

He turned off the shower and slipped out of the stall. A moment later he returned with dark green fluffy towels. He held her elbow as she stepped from the shower. “Careful. The floor is a bit slippery.” The floor was drenched, but Cole directed her around the worst spots. He folded her into a large, soft towel, then draped another around his hips. Sated and wrapped snug and secure as a present, Sarah allowed herself to be half-walked, half-carried out of the bathroom and over to the bed. Kneeling at her feet, he dried her ankles, calves, rubbing the fluffy terry over her thighs and gently between. He even tousled her hair to get the water out.

Wordlessly, he pulled back the covers and urged her under them. When he collapsed next to her, the bed bounced under his weight. For some reason that made her giggle. He answered with a chuckle of his own. He slipped an arm around her waist and she nestled into the warm pocket of his body. It felt right to be there, in his arms and his bed and it certainly beat his guest room. She didn’t care if Jimmie or Junior had slept there. She wanted to be where Cole slept.

A long, deep exhale relaxed her down to her toes. Cole’s arm tightened in a brief hug and his lips pressed against her ear. “Good night, darlin’” were the last words she heard before she drifted off to sleep.

Warm sheets and a spicy male scent caressed Sarah’s senses as she floated toward consciousness. Next was the feeling of deep relaxation that flowed through her muscles. She felt good.

Last night had not been a dream. It had been something out of a fantasy all right, but not even her sex-starved imagination could have conjured up a man like Cole Cassidy. A small-town engineer with the body of a god, the hands of an artist and a cock like a freaking stallion.

Her body tingled with remembered pleasure. He had made her come. After so many let downs she’d had an orgasm. There was hope for her yet. She didn’t know exactly what had healed her, but a little more one-on-one therapy could only help to reinforce the cure. She turned over—and opened her eyes to an empty bed.

Disappointment shot through her. She was no stranger to slipping out of a lover’s bed after a night of sex, and getting going before the awkward morning-after bit. But it had always been someone else’s bed she’d left, not someone’s bed she’d been left in. Oh well, he couldn’t have gone far.

From the glow of sunlight peeking around the edges of the curtain, it was later than she usually slept. The digital clock on the end table said
9:00
. What a luxury. On a normal day, she’d have already been in the office for hours. She sat up with a yawn and a satisfying stretch, feeling twinges in muscles she never knew she had.

She looked around. Her bag was still in the garage and yesterday’s clothes were nowhere to be seen so she’d have to borrow something of Cole’s. The thought of it made her feel warm inside.

Where to find something? The dresser probably held T-shirts and boxer shorts, so she hopped off the bed and headed for the double closet that covered one wall. She slid aside one of the doors and found a row of hanging plaid shirts and work pants. Work boots, cowboy boots and comfortable slip-on shoes lay in a jumble below them.

She tugged a blue-and-green plaid shirt off its hanger and slipped her arms into the sleeves. She fastened a couple of buttons to hold it closed and rolled the cuffs up past her elbows. The fabric smelled like laundry detergent but still held a hint of Cole’s spicy cologne mixed with wood smoke and engine grease. It was the most masculine combination she’d ever inhaled.

She was closing the closet when she spotted a shoebox in the shadows on the other side of the closet. She looked closer—was that a Dolce and Gabbana logo?

She opened the other side of the closet and froze.

The space before her could have come from a window display at Barneys New York. Crisp button-down shirts of various pale hues hung next to a rack full of dark suits. A shoe rack on the floor held polished dress and casual shoes, every one of them bearing a designer name.
Kenneth Cole
.
Ralph Lauren
.
Hugo Boss
. She pulled a navy blue tie off a hanger and glanced at the label.
Armani
.

What the hell?

She’d expect to find clothes like this in Trent’s or Manny’s wardrobes, not Cole’s. When would he wear stuff like this? Where? She ran a finger along the lapel of a charcoal Armani suit. She’d only seen him in jeans and flannel. Would he clean up nicely? Probably. Too bad she’d never get to see it herself.

Brushing aside an odd prick of regret, she turned toward the sound of footsteps in the hall. The bedroom door opened and the smell of coffee wafted into the room. Cole appeared in the doorway and her mouth went dry. He wore only a pair of drawstring pants that hung low on his hips, revealing a deep vee of muscle that dipped below his waistband. Damn, the man would look good in anything—or nothing. Sarah felt a tug in her belly, the urge to grasp those muscles and to trace their contours down…

“Mornin’, darlin’. I come bearing gifts.”

Cole stepped into the room carefully balancing the tray he carried. Although he was sure she drank coffee—he’d never met a New Yorker who didn’t—he wasn’t sure how she took it so he’d brought a bit of everything.

When he caught sight of Sarah standing by the closet he stumbled, almost dropping the tray. He’d expected her to still be in bed but she’d gotten up and found herself something to wear. His favorite plaid shirt. It draped over her breasts and grazed her hips, landing mid-thigh. His gaze drifted down to where her fingers tugged on the hem against her leg. His cock twitched.

With a smile he looked up at her face but in place of the desire he’d hoped to see, there was a kind of embarrassed guilt. Only then did he notice the open closet door and the tie dangling from her hand. His smile disappeared.

“Gone exploring, I see.”

“I was looking for something to wear.”

“You were planning to wear a tie?”

She looked down at the blue tie, seeming surprised, as if she’d forgotten it was there. “No. I was just—”

“Checking out the merchandise?” His hand shook. He put the coffee tray on the dresser.

She shrugged. “Women like to snoop. We like clothes.” She smiled. “Especially
designer
clothes.”

He took a deep breath. “I hardly wear them.”

“Pity. I bet you look fine in those suits.” She smiled.

It was a compliment but he had too much experience with that kind of flattery to be pleased. “They’re from a past life—one I’ve left behind.” He moved to close the closet, but she stepped in his way, clearly unwilling to let the subject drop.

“But you still have the clothes.”

His jaw tightened. “Why are you so interested in my clothes?”

“Why are you so defensive about them?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he asked the same question but brushed it aside before an answer could arise. “I don’t need them anymore. I don’t need
any
of that.” He waved a hand, encompassing the closet, clothes and everything else he’d put behind him. “I’m perfectly happy with the life I have here.”
 

“Really?”

A fist of disappointment hit him in the gut. He’d thought that Sarah was enjoying her time in Rapture but evidently the trappings of wealth and status turned her on more than racing down the track or waking up next to a country boy. It was Natalie all over again, but he was done with that lifestyle and no city girl was going to drag him back to it.

No matter how sexy she looked in his shirt.

She tilted her head as if studying him. “Something doesn’t add up here, Cole Cassidy—”

“And it’s your business, how?”

Sarah sucked in a breath and her eyes widened. She stood for a moment with her mouth open, then closed it and shook her head.

“It’s none of my business. In fact, I have no business being here at all, so if you would just point me to my suitcase I’ll put on my
fancy
clothes—” she made quotes around the word, “—and get the hell out of your face.”

She turned away but not before Cole saw the sudden sheen on her lashes.

He ran a hand over his eyes. What was he saying? He’d made love to this woman, woken up next to her and now he was treating her like the enemy because of what another woman had done wrong? He had to stop blaming her for Natalie’s—for
his
—mistakes.

“Sarah, wait.” He put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. Looking down, she seemed to discover the tie again and tossed it over a chair.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t about you. You just touched a nerve, and I overreacted.”

She shook her head, still looking away from him. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything—”

“I want to tell you.”

Slowly she turned to him and gave a
go on
look but didn’t move any closer.

He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling. “For years the annual stock car racing awards ceremonies were held in New York City. I went for the speeches and parties at first, but found myself spending more and more time there. Eventually I got caught up in the whole moneyed lifestyle. Even got an apartment.”

“Where?”

“The Meatpacking District. A two-bedroom co-op.” He waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

She nodded. “So you lived in Manhattan in an apartment I would kill for. Met a woman?”

He nodded. “Natalie. We dated for a while. Things got serious.”

“How serious?”

“I bought a ring.”

Sarah’s brows rose.
Yeah, that kind of serious.

“I brought her home to show her where I came from. It was a disaster. She couldn’t relate to Rapture.” He snorted at the understatement. “Hated it really. Too small. Too backwards. In the end she wanted nothing to do with this part of my life.”

Sarah gestured at the closet with sympathy in her eyes. “She wanted the sophisticated side of you but not the hick.”

He nodded. “I broke it off. Let go of the apartment and haven’t been back.”

“Not even for the awards?”

“They’ve moved the ceremonies to Las Vegas.”

“Hate New York that much, eh?”

He shook his head. “No, I love it—that’s the problem.” He saw her confusion and continued. Now that they’d come this far he wanted her to understand.

“Natalie rejected my roots, but the truth was that I’d done the same thing. I dove into the hip city lifestyle and left behind everything that made me what I am.”

Sarah shrugged. “So you went to a bit of an extreme. Happens sometimes. But it sounds like you’ve now swung the other way. Why? I mean small towns are great—people help each other out, no one locks their doors—but why does it have to be one or the other?”

Cole was speechless. Had Sarah just said, “small towns are great”? Not in a million years could he imagine those words coming from Natalie’s lips. If he’d needed any more proof that Sarah was different, he had it now.

She continued. “I mean, why choose? New York is only a six-hour drive from here and Washington, D.C. even less than that. You don’t have to live on Park Avenue to enjoy city life once in a while. Live in the country and visit the city when you want to.” She gave him a shy smile. “Even city girls appreciate a little country now and then.”

Would she?
He’d love the chance to show her around. Dressed as she was in his shirt he had no trouble imagining her at Morrissey’s in town. He could take her there to have a beer with the guys. A real beer, not that light crap she claimed to like—

Whoa.
He was getting ahead of himself. Just because she lacked Natalie’s snobbery didn’t mean Sarah was ready to make Rapture a long-term destination.