Page 10 of Falling for Cocky Cole (Shared by the Carter Brothers #2)

IVY

W e sit side by side on the worn wooden bench against the barn wall, sipping the cider. It's sweet and tart at once, crisp and fresh in a way store-bought never is. Cole makes a small sound of appreciation, his shoulder pressing against mine in the narrow space.

"This is really good," he says, taking another sip. "Best cider I've ever tasted. Probably because I made it."

I roll my eyes but can't help smiling. "Sure, Cole. You're a natural after one lesson."

The barn is quiet except for the occasional creak of the old wood settling. Through the open door, I can see stars appearing in the darkening sky. We finish our cider quickly, but neither of us makes a move to stand up.

"Thank you," I say finally.

Cole turns to me, eyebrows raised. "For what?"

"For helping. For the business proposal. For..." I gesture vaguely. "For being serious about it all."

"I told you I was," he says, his voice softer than usual. "Thank you for giving me a chance to prove it."

"It doesn't seem to be up to me," I reply. "You've charmed my parents already."

Cole grins, but there's something different in his eyes—something more vulnerable than his usual cocky confidence. "I can leave if you want me to, Ivy. Just say the word."

We lock eyes, and something electric passes between us. I shake my head slowly, not trusting my voice. I'm making another mistake, I know it, but I can't help myself. I scoot closer and press my lips to his.

Cole responds immediately, pulling me to him.

His hands find my waist as the kiss deepens, his tongue sliding against mine.

He tastes like apples and cinnamon from Mom's pie.

I shift until I'm straddling him on the bench, my knees on either side of his hips.

The barn door is still open a crack, but I know my parents won't come looking for us.

They'll be glued to their show for the next two hours.

I know I'm making another mistake, but I can't convince myself to stop. Cole has been behaving like a different person—sincere, serious, attentive. Not at all the playboy I remember. I can't make myself believe it's all an act. The way he's spoken about my work, my skills, my future—it feels real.

And it's flattering, if I'm honest with myself. Cole Carter—Silvercreek's golden boy, the town charmer—is trying to win my heart. What did I do to deserve his attention? I'm not even that pretty, not compared to the girls he usually dates. What does he see in me?

Maybe it's because I left—because I had the courage to try making it on my own. Except I haven't made it. I've failed, more or less. Yet here he is, making me feel like that failure isn't the end of the world. Like I still have options, still have value.

Whatever the reason, I want to give this—give him—a chance. Nothing serious, just friends with benefits like he suggested. Why not? I've had that kind of relationship before, right before leaving Portland. It wasn't so bad. No strings attached, no expectations, no disappointments.

Cole's hands slide down to my hips, then cup my ass, pulling me closer against him. I can feel how hard he is through our jeans, and it makes me throb with want. The way he touches me makes me wish for more—makes me impatient for skin on skin.

I break the kiss just long enough to unbutton my shirt, letting Cole push it off my shoulders.

His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of my plain cotton bra, nothing fancy but apparently enough to make his breath catch.

He peels the straps down and unclasps it with surprising dexterity, then brings his mouth to my breast, sucking and teasing until I'm moaning and grinding against his erection.

"Cole," I gasp, my fingers threading through his hair. "I want you."

He pulls back, eyes searching mine. "Are you sure? What about your parents?"

"They won't come out here," I assure him. "They're watching their show."

Cole groans as I press against him again, but he still hesitates. "You're really sure?"

In answer, I stand up and strip off my jeans, leaving me in just my underwear. Cole's eyes travel over my body with such open appreciation that I feel a flush spreading across my skin.

"God, Ivy," he says, his voice rough. "You're beautiful."

I watch as he unzips his jeans, lifting his hips to push them down his thighs. His boxers do little to hide how ready he is. I step closer as he removes them, revealing his cock—long and thick and already glistening at the tip.

"I want to ride you," I tell him, surprising myself with my boldness.

Cole laughs, a low, warm sound. "Reminding me you're a good rider?"

I smile, remembering our earlier banter about bicycles. "Something like that."

I straddle him again, and he brings his cock to my entrance. I'm already wet, have been since we started making cider together, if I'm honest. As I sink down onto him, we both moan at the sensation. He fills me completely, stretching me in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Cole whispers, his hands gripping my hips. "So tight."

"You feel good," I tell him, my voice breathy as I adjust to his size. "So good, Cole."

I begin to move, finding a rhythm that makes us both gasp.

Cole cups one of my breasts with one hand while the other holds my hip, guiding my movements.

I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation.

The physical pleasure of him inside me, the emotional high of being wanted like this—it's intoxicating.

Cole thrusts up to meet each of my downward movements, creating a perfect friction that has me climbing quickly toward release. The wooden bench creaks beneath us, the sound mingling with our heavy breathing and occasional moans.

"You're the most beautiful girl on earth," Cole says, his voice strained with effort and pleasure.

"I'm yours," I gasp, not even sure what I mean by it, just knowing it feels right to say.

"I'm the luckiest bastard on earth," he groans, and I can't help but laugh softly, knowing he's exaggerating but not caring. I want to believe him, to enjoy this moment for what it is.

I close my eyes as we both pick up the pace, chasing our pleasure. Cole's thumb finds my clit, circling it with just the right pressure, and I feel myself tightening around him. My breathing becomes shallow, my movements more erratic as I get closer.

"That's it, Ivy," Cole encourages, his own voice tight with approaching climax. "Come for me."

The tension builds and builds until it finally breaks in a wave of pleasure that has me crying out, my body shuddering as I clench around him. Cole follows immediately, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise as he pumps up into me, gasping my name as he comes.

My head falls back, my back arches, both of us panting. His head nestled between my breasts, his arms wrap around me, holding me close as our heartbeats gradually slow. I feel boneless, satisfied in a way I haven't been in a long time.

We stay like that for a minute or two, until we hear the barn door creak wider. Neither of us moves at first, thinking it might be the wind.

"Ivy? Cole? Are you guys—?" Caleb's voice cuts through our afterglow like a knife.

"Don't come in!" I call out, but it's too late. Caleb is already inside, and he freezes when he sees us. His eyes widen, then linger on my naked torso for a beat too long before he seems to realize what he's doing.

He blinks rapidly and looks away. "Sorry," he stammers. "I didn't mean to walk in on... this."

Cole turns his head toward his brother, seemingly unbothered by our compromising position. "No problem," he says casually. "We're done. Just give us a minute."

I press my face against Cole's shoulder, mortification washing over me. I'll never be able to look Caleb in the eye again.