The Trouble With Coco Monroe (24 page)

Bronte let out a sharp cry of stunned pleasure.

The orgasm that shot through her caught her off guard leaving her trembling in utter surrender to her man.

‘Nico...’

She wanted to tell him to give her a second, just a second. But his mouth was on her breast, suckling a too sensitive nipple through her dress. And then his mouth was on hers, taking her spinning down, down, down, where she could only cling on and let him take and take.

Nico stroked her, teasing and gentle along her swollen, wet core, his fingers exploring, slipping, and sliding over that fabulous girl boner. She was ready again and he wanted to watch her as she rode the wave, right on the cusp until she tipped over the edge.

The air was too hot as Bronte struggled with every shuddering breath. How on earth did he do this to her? The pleasure was so deep, so amazing. Then he caught her nipple between his teeth bringing exquisite pleasure pain while his fingers stroked her, winding pleasure tighter, too tight.

Just when she couldn’t endure it a moment longer, the world went dark before going too bright. And she heard herself cry out. The long unremitting sob of a woman brought the supreme pleasure.

Bronte dropped her head on his shoulder and shuddered.

All she wanted to do was hold him tight, but he gently tipped her onto her back and spread her legs wide.

Toeing off his boots, he swept his shirt over his head and tossed it.

Without taking his eyes from hers he stripped and when his swollen erection bounced out of his calvins Bronte moaned.

Then he moved into her, wrapped long legs round his waist.

And very gently entered her.

Thrusting her pelvis into him, she moaned.

She wanted it hard and fast.

But he held her hips still and moved in and out with long, slow strokes. Strokes that utterly destroyed her.

She could only lie there and take everything he had to give her, until her scream of completion, until he joined her.

Nico lay on top of the woman who’d brought him more joy than he could ever imagine.

His breathing was ragged as his heart hammered against hers.

Eyes closed, she was lying on the hard granite surface.

He scooped her up in his arms and strode out of the room, through the hall, heading for the stairs.

Her eyes flew to his.

‘Nico...’

‘Bed. I am spending the day making love with my wife.’

‘But, the children.’

‘We will pick them up later this afternoon.’

He placed her gently on their bed.

She lay there, ash blonde hair spread out on the pillow and the look in her eyes, for him, made his heart sing.

‘Okay.’

Chapter Twenty Seven

Coco plunged into the swimming pool and came up spluttering.

Water stung her eyes, burned her throat.

It served her right for laughing and diving at the same time.

His face, she would never forget the look on his face as long as she lived.

She bent over as laughter gripped her again.

Rafe heaved himself out of the water to stand next to her in the pool, his dark eyes distant as he stared into the garden.

Sheer joy coursed through her veins at his dazed and confused expression.

‘That certainly cooled me down,’ she said. And shivered, ignoring the little voice warning her to be very careful.

She swam to the edge, climbed out and strolled towards their personal oasis.

Watching him pound up and down the pool too many times to count had her laugh softly as she turned over and lay on her belly.

Eventually, Rafe hauled himself out of the water, slumped onto his towel.

With his eyes closed he lay on his back, his chest heaving.

Satisfaction warmed Coco’s heart as she noticed his impressive erection had flagged too.

With a happy sigh, she turned on her back and took a deep, cleansing breath.

‘I feel fabulous,’ she said in a happy singsong voice.

Out of the corner of her eye through thick lashes she saw him frown.

‘You do?’

Rolling over on her side to face him, she leaned on her elbow.

Under her wet bikini her nipples were bullet hard, goose bumps prickling her skin.

His eyes went dark as he stared at her breasts and she caught a twitch of life in his groin.

This was almost too easy.

With big eyes she sent him a huge grin.

‘Yep. Do you realise that we can be friends now without the hassle of sex?’

His eyes went sharp on hers and she fought to keep hers crystal clear.

And truly tried to visualise him as her brother.

It didn’t work.

Those dark eyes narrowed now as they surveyed her and that mouth looked tight.

‘Are you hungry?’

The question threw her for a moment, but she smiled anyway as he rose and grabbed his backpack.

He placed a couple of plastic wine glasses between them on the deck and brought out a bottle of red wine. It was a bit early in the day and although Coco preferred white wine since red tended to go straight to her head, she decided she wouldn’t complain. A bottle of water appeared. Then like a magician he produced a small cool bag, paper plates and began to empty the contents onto her towel; cheese, ham, soft local bread and fruit.

‘I’m famished.’ Her stomach growled and he smiled for the first time.

She swallowed a little hum in her throat as her gaze took a leisurely stroll over his wide shoulders, the impressive chest. Rivulets of water ran through fine black hair that narrowed in a path to glory down his fabulous abs and down, down to disappear under shorts slung low on his hips.

Her breath caught in her throat as her libido roared.

No, no, no.

Remember, this is the enemy.

‘Wine?’ he asked in a silky voice.

There was a glint in his eye she didn’t quite like, but she ruthlessly ignored it.

With false bravado she waved the plastic glass.

‘Why not?’ she answered gaily.

An hour later Coco realised she was quietly sloshed.

She couldn’t have had more than a couple of glasses, although she couldn’t remember because he kept topping hers up.

But yes, the world was spinning.

She sipped water then lay on her back under the shade of the umbrella with a happy sigh.

‘How did you become involved with
First Step
?’

The low dulcet tones of his voice washed over her and she shivered in reaction.

‘Like everything else in my life, it was all your fault,’ she told him without thinking.

‘How was it my fault?’ His voice vibrated up her spine.

For a moment she was sure his hand had touched her hair, then told herself she was imagining it.

Eyes closed, dozing and relaxed, Coco remembered the night of her eighteenth birthday party.

Heart pounding in her ears, she tiptoed along the corridor dressed only in a sheer silk nightgown. Heady excitement danced through her blood. Tonight was the night. Hadn’t he told her she looked beautiful?

‘Look at you, all grown-up,’ he’d said, those dark velvet eyes had stared into hers.

Hadn’t he held her through most of the dances and celebrated with her family? He loved her and it felt wonderful. She couldn’t wait. A full moon shone through the floor to ceiling windows of the hallway.

Heart fluttering in her chest, she took a shaky breath. There was nothing to worry about. This was Rafe. He would take care of her. A trembling hand smoothed her hair. Hair that fell to her waist.

She turned the handle and entered his bedroom. The curtains were almost closed, but moonlight snuck through the gap, throwing part of the bed into silver relief. He lay on his back with the sheets low on his hips. He was naked, at least on top. Those shoulders were broad and muscled just like she’d imagined. He was lean with dark silky hair sprinkled across his chest and narrowing down towards his hips.

With a fist pressed to her heart she took a couple of steadying breaths. He’d thrown his tuxedo on a chair. The air scented with his signature cologne and the musk of his body swirled around her heightened awareness. She inhaled and absorbed the scent of him, of Rafe. This was right.

With shallow breaths she moved closer to the edge of the bed and willed him to wake up, to see her, to welcome her. But he slept like a baby. A new sensation overwhelmed her, protective and all-powerful. She adored him and would look after him as he would surely look after her. Didn’t he intercede between her and her father? Didn’t he appreciate her point of view? Hadn’t she heard him tell her father to let her go and if he did, she would come back to him? Yes, Rafe loved her. He knew what was best for her.

Trembling fingers swept the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders and it flowed down her skin to pool around her feet. As naked as the day she was born, she lifted the sheet and slid into his bed. And lay there heart hammering, thundering in her ears. Surely he must hear it?

How much time passed, she had no idea, but her eyes clung to the ceiling as her breath steadied and she turned at last to look at him. In sleep that marvellous face looked younger, less tense, more at ease with himself and the world.

A wave of affection for this man almost overwhelmed her and she turned on her side, edging closer to him. The mechanics of making love with a man nudged her consciousness. What would it feel like? What would it look like? Biting her lip she lifted the sheet.

He was naked and her heart stuttered as her stomach clenched. She’d done biology and understood how a grown man’s body worked, but she’d never seen one up close and personal like this. At rest, his penis lay across his thigh. It looked too thick and too big to her. She knew that when aroused a penis grew. She frowned, she couldn’t imagine his growing more than it was now, and if it did, surely it wouldn’t fit inside her?

For the first time, fear stalked her mind. Curiosity, she’d been told more than once, killed the cat. It was curiosity that had her reach out her fingers to stroke his thigh. His skin was so firm and smooth. His penis twitched and she jerked her hand back. Her eyes flew to his face, but he slept on, his breath slow and steady. Her heart thundered as again her fingers reached for his thigh and she stroked her fingertips up and down. Then moved towards the edge of his penis. Her fingertips danced around the head and she watched with sheer amazement as his penis grew hard, thicker and bigger in front of her eyes. Her nipples throbbed in time to the wet sensation pulsing between her thighs.

Rafe moaned deep in his throat and Coco realised with a flash of insight that she wasn’t ready for this.

She rolled over but a heavy arm caught her around the waist dragging her to his side. He tucked his body around hers as he inhaled her scent. She lay as if turned to stone taking short panting breaths. Her heart was making a valiant attempt to escape through her ribs.

He sighed, turned his cheek to her hair and slept. But his rock hard penis nudged against her bare bottom sending an illicit thrill throughout her system. She wriggled her hips. His penis nudged her again.

With care she lifted his arm, the toes of one foot managing to touch the floor before she was turned and hauled on top of his hard chest. Excitement and terror warred for domination as his lips, hot and demanding, found hers.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as his tongue plundered her mouth, his hands mastered her body; roaming over her back and bare bottom and Coco moaned. She was flipped onto her back as a firm knee nudged her thighs apart. His erection pressed against her hot, wet core and she whimpered high in her throat.

Those eyes flickered, those hands went still and she held her breath. But his erection seemed to have a mind of its own and nuzzled the entrance to her vagina. She whimpered again and those eyes snapped open.

Rafe jack-knifed out of the bed, made no attempt to cover himself as she gazed up at him.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ The hard tone of his voice, coupled with shock, brought her to her senses.

‘I thought you wanted...’ Her voice wobbled as she took a breath. She sounded pathetic, desperate. Heat flooded her system from her toes to the roots of her hair.

Hard hands gripped her shoulders and gave her a shake. His eyes, dark with fury and something else she couldn’t identify glared into hers.

‘Do you have any idea what nearly happened?’ With another shake, he let her go as if she’d burned him.

Mortification hit, wave after wave of it crashed over her. With hands that were far from steady, she found her nightgown and desperately tugged it over her body.

Meanwhile Rafe strode naked to the door and threw it open.

‘Out!’

How could she have got it so wrong? Had she imagined how he’d held her, the way he’d talked to her? Reality slapped her hard. He’d been kind. Too kind. Almost like a brother. Mortification, and disappointment whipped her spine.

‘I hate you,’ she spat.

‘You’re an absolute disgrace. We’ll talk about this tomorrow,’ he’d said.

But they never did talk about it.

Rafe had come into their family as a boy and Ethan’s best friend. His family life had never been easy. She’d heard plenty of mutterings over the years. The death of his mother and father’s descent into alcoholism had meant the Monroe home was his safe haven.

Her father adored him and so had Coco until that night. Afterwards she’d refused to acknowledge him, refused to have anything to do with him. Her father had wanted to know what was the matter. Rafe had said nothing. He’d kept the secret. But it had only fed her deep loathing of him.