Inside Out - Lauren Dane [68]
One of his eyebrows rose, and his mouth quirked up, but he didn’t move his fingers away. He kept them there, sliding back and forth over her clit, building another climax. One she hadn’t thought possible.
It filled her, a rush of pleasure flowing through her body, bringing her pace faster, harder against him as the need to come grew. At last she could hold it back no longer as it sucked her under, her inner walls contracting around his cock as he thrust up when she came down.
Her nails scored his sides, and he gave a long groan and came, his fingers digging into the muscle of her upper hips, holding her in place.
Limp, she rolled to the side, trying to get her breath back. He pulled her close, and she nuzzled his neck, loving the way he smelled and the security of his arms around her.
“Yep. Totally going to kill me. But I’ll die a happy man,” he murmured against her hair, making her laugh again.
“Yeah. I was right.”
She managed to flop onto her back. “About what?”
“Chemistry, darlin’. We have it.”
She smiled.
13
Cope had been smiling pretty much nonstop since, well, since he’d first gotten up the nerve to ask Ella out, but most definitely since they’d finally gotten naked and sweaty at his place.
Four days. It had been four days since he’d held her, kissed her, touched her skin.
Friday night had been the finest sexual experience of his life. Sharing with someone he connected to like he did Ella had been mind-blowing. The reality of her, of being inside her, her taste on his lips, her skin under his hands, had been far better than even his wildest fantasies about her.
She’d unleashed something deep inside him. Had held up a mirror, and the man she saw—the Andrew she believed him to be—was so much more than the Cope he’d allowed himself to coast into. He’d alternated between shame that he’d been so lazy and pride that she saw far more than the surface. Unerringly, Ella Tipton had stripped away all the artifice and struck deep, to the heart of him. That was humbling.
He needed to hold that to his heart just then. “Dad, wait.”
His father turned around and, seeing it was Cope, slowed down. Cope knew if he’d run his father to ground at home his dad would have just used his shop to hide behind. Instead, he knew his dad and Todd’s went to the Renton Fish and Game Club three times a week to shoot guns and the shit with all the other old retired cops.
Cope put his hands in his pockets and leaned against his dad’s driver’s side door.
“I didn’t expect to see you today. I just finished up in there.” Billy motioned back toward the building he’d come from. “But I can always stand some more.”
Another area Ben had excelled in, marksmanship, was something he and their father had shared. Or they used to. Cope was good enough for the job, better than most in fact, but he wasn’t Ben. His scores didn’t still remain on the wall of fame like Ben’s did. But Ben and their father didn’t go shooting together anymore.
“Nah. I’m good. I was just at the range on Friday. Listen, Dad, I need to talk to you about Ben and the baby.”
His father’s smile slipped away, his mouth hardening into an implacable line. “Subject’s closed, boy. Your brother has his head in the wrong place. More like he’s using the wrong one. You have nothing to add.”
And that was really the heart of it, wasn’t it? His father truly believed that. “Bull. Dad, you can’t call him and hint around that he’d be better off if Erin lost that baby. She’s been having problems lately with her blood pressure. Did you know that? Can you imagine what you made him feel like when you brought up the chance of her losing the pregnancy? What the hell were you thinking? You can’t possibly wish this. It’s like you’re a total stranger.”
The narrowing of eyes and crossing of arms had kept Ben and Cope in line as boys, even into their teen years and beyond. Right then, though, Cope was more afraid his father had damaged the family past all ability to fix.
“This is none of your business, Andrew.