He lets my body adjust and then begins to move. Stroking places inside of me to find ecstasy like he’s been doing it forever instead of it being just our first time. It doesn’t take long for him to lure the orgasm from my hungry body. But after he does, he groans and his thrusts intensify to a deliciously ravenous pounding that my body longed to feel.

Sometime in the aftermath of our escapades, in between kisses that feel like so much more than just kisses, I realize why I feel such a remarkable sense of relief. It wasn’t the hours of foreplay building to a crescendo. I’d been waiting for this moment since the first time I met him.

I wake to the distant sound of Cooper’s voice coming from the other room. He’s on the phone, so I only hear one side of the conversation. But it makes me smile nonetheless. He’s barking orders at someone; his voice, full of authority, leaves no question as to who’s the boss. There was certainly no question last night either. Without a doubt, the man takes charge, there’s no mistaking he’s an alpha male. Yet there’s something different in him. Something other bossy men are missing that makes the world of difference. Cooper may seem like he takes control away from me, but he’d never take it unless I was giving it to him. I never realized letting someone else take the lead could be so empowering and yet freeing at the same time.

I pick the dress shirt he was wearing yesterday up from the floor, button it enough to cover me, and go searching for the voice.

“He can have until five tonight to decide. After that we’re moving on and going with our second choice.” Cooper is wearing lounge pants and no shirt, his back to me, but he turns, sensing me, even though I make no sound with my bare feet. His eyes sweep over me, taking their time as they crawl up my bare legs and linger finding the hint of breast peeking out of the scarcely closed shirt. I only fastened one button up from the navel. He crooks a finger at me with a grin. I roll my eyes dramatically, but walk to him anyway, quite enjoying the way he watches my every step intently.

“Just let me know by five.” He hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye and tosses it on the granite.

“I like your shirt.” He wraps me in his arms.

“Thanks. Coffee?”

“Already made.” He kisses my forehead and leads me to the island to sit while he fixes me a steaming mug.

“Sleep well?” Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he eyes me over his mug.

“Like a baby. I was really out.”

“I know. I’ve been up for two hours.”

“What time is it?”

“Eight.”

“You sleep well?”

“Best night of sleep I’ve had in years.” He smiles. It’s a genuine smile, it makes him look so young.

“Working so early on a Saturday?” I sip my coffee.

“Had a few loose ends to tie up. Wanted to get them done before you woke. What time do you turn into a pumpkin?”

My smile fades. “I have to be on set at three.”

“Finish your coffee.” He drains his mug and walks closer. “You sore?”

“Not really.” A little achy, but I keep that part to myself.

“Let’s go fix that. I want you to feel me for six weeks.”

Chapter sixteen

Cooper

The morning after a sleepover, I’m usually ready for a woman to leave. I’m not rude or brash about it, but I’ll admit weekday sleepovers are more my thing. No leisure time the next day to spend making post-coital nice. It’s not that I don’t like a woman’s company outside of the bedroom, I do, although I generally prefer that time to be before sex, rather than after.

“Lunch should be here any minute,” I say as Kate comes from the bathroom. Wet hair and a makeup-free face; she grows more beautiful each time I look at her. I glance at the clock again, dreading the minutes ticking by so fast. Why is it that the first woman I want to spend the entire weekend with doing nothing is also the one running on a meter set to expire way too soon?

“Great.” She looks at her watch and back to me. Her face shows as much dread over the ticking away of the moments as I feel.

“I’ll drop you back at your car after lunch.”

She bites her lip. “Would you mind dropping me home? I need to get my bag.”

“Bag?”

“We’re sequestered at the house for a few nights.”

I fail miserably at letting her words roll off of me. My face hardens, jaw clenches down and I open and close my fists.

“Sorry,” she offers apologetically. And it looks like she means it. Oddly, the anger doesn’t make me want to walk away from her. Instead, I get the feral urge to fuck her long and hard again. I’m not oblivious. I do realize it’s most likely the primal urge to mark my territory in the most glaring way I know how. But that doesn’t make the urge any less real.

The intercom buzzes, saving me from myself. I walk to the door and press the button. Lou’s voice booms through the loud speaker.

“You have a guest, Mr. Montgomery.”

“I ordered lunch, you can send him up. Thanks, Lou.”

“Ummm … it’s not lunch. Well, not unless Ms. Laroix has it hidden in her bag.”

Shit. The woman just refuses to take a hint. I glance back at Kate. She lifts her eyebrows, but says nothing.

“Can you please tell her she needs to call the office and get on my schedule?”

“Okay. But she doesn’t like when I send her away.”