Page 23

School starts Monday, and traditionally the weekend before it starts is filled with on-campus parties and shenanigans. It’s something we’ve looked forward to every year…something my friends will participate in this year.

But I just can’t muster up the enthusiasm to go to college parties when Cooper Freaking Noah is in town.

I don’t give a shit about the shenanigans taking place on campus when Coop and I can get into some private trouble of our own.

And so when I pick him up from the airport, the group text chat with my closest friends is going bananas. They’re setting up where and when to meet, and meanwhile I ate dinner an hour ago and sat around twiddling my thumbs until an appropriate time to leave for the airport to pick him up.

I glance at my watch. It’s seven twenty-five, and a text comes through.

Cooper: Landed! [airplane emoji]

Me: I can’t wait to see you. [kiss emoji]

Cooper: I can’t wait to get you naked. [eggplant emoji] [waterdrops emoji]

Me: I really like how you don’t beat around the bush. [eyeroll emoji]

He writes back with a laughing emoji, and then I wait as patiently as I can until I see the familiar black Under Armour baseball cap pulled forward and low over his eyes.

My tummy flips as thrills start to dance along my spine.

My body seems to have the same reaction every time I see him, but it gets more and more intense each time. The feelings of love are starting to edge out the lust, but both are fierce.

If you didn’t know you were looking for him, he’d be just another hot guy walking through the airport. But I know who he is. Intimately. And even though there are still parts of himself he hasn’t shared with me—and I him—I still feel like I know him in a way nobody else in this airport ever will.

I mean…assuming he’s never banged a flight attendant.

We haven’t really gotten into our histories where that’s concerned, and I still haven’t Googled him to learn more, but Mia has informed me that he was a player in more ways than one back in the day. It sounds like it was before his time with his ex. And he wears that ballcap all the time in public, so I assume people know who he is. I just don’t want to know his past since I’m enjoying who he is now.

We all have histories, and he can share his with me whenever he’s ready. And maybe that’ll be the same time I’ll be ready to share mine with him, too. My recent history, anyway. I’ve been pretty open about the other stuff.

His eyes lift to mine across the airport, and I can’t help it. I spring into a sprint and launch myself into his arms, and he laughs as he catches me this time, prepared for the impact. His lips immediately collide down to mine as everything seems to tilt back to the way it’s meant to be.

“God, I missed you,” he says, his voice raspy and low against my mouth. He pulls his lips from mine and buries his face in my neck like he’s trying to get as close as he possibly can to me, and I simply wrap myself around him and hang on for the ride as much as I decently can in public, still unsure how it’s possible to feel so completely whole again with him when we’re still at the early stages of this.

But that’s the thing. I’m here to hang on for the ride, whether it lasts one more week or one more lifetime.

“Let’s get to my hotel,” he suggests, and I nod. We walk out of the airport hand-in-hand toward my truck, and I weave through traffic, racing to get to Caesars Palace where Cooper’s staying again.

After all, it’s where we first met when we were playing blackjack together, and it’s a place I will forever associate with him regardless of what happens between us.

I have a feeling I’ll always look at this landmark with hearts in my eyes and the fondest memories.

I leave my keys in the car, collect my valet ticket, and head with Cooper toward his room, bypassing the check-in counter since he already took care of that whole process digitally while I drove.

He waves his phone in front of his door, and it magically unlocks. We walk in, and he abandons his suitcase in the middle of the entry, instead stalking toward me. Thrills shoot up my spine. I am so ready for this, ready for him .

Last time we spent half the day together before we got naked. This time, it’s about half a second after we enter the privacy of his hotel room. To be honest, I’m a little surprised we made it this long and didn’t just get naked in the back of my truck.

It’s with lightning speed we both shed our clothes, and we stand naked together making out in the middle of the room. He booked a suite with a view, and the bed is located in a room to the left. I don’t care if we do it on the bed. Hell, I’ll opt for doing it up against the hotel window if that’s what he wants.

He must read my mind.

“Go put your palms up against the window and bend over for me,” he orders, his lips inches from mine, and I love the needy edge to his demand. He kisses me once more before he lets me go to submit to what he just requested, and I stand with my ass up in the air, my palms against the glass, and my tits on display for everyone outside to see.

We’re on the twenty-fifth floor in the land of hotel rooms and blinking lights, so it’s not like anyone can actually see us, at least not without binoculars. But the thrill of it is ever-present anyway, the thought that someone could be watching as Cooper slams into me in our most private, intimate moments, and something about that makes this even hotter.

The ache between my legs becomes unbearable as I wait for his touch, and it’s featherlight at first, his fingertips tracing down my spine and along the curve of my ass.

My pussy aches for him, and I’m certain I’m wetter and more ready for him than I’ve ever been for anybody in my life.

He leans down and peppers soft kisses along my spine, and then he sits on the floor and leans up against the window. I look down at him, and he’s looking up at me, lust in his eyes along with a gleam.

“Sit on my face,” he says.

“What?” I ask.

“Lower yourself down, use the window for balance, and sit on my face .”

Dear. Lord.

I’ve never had a man ask me to sit on his face. I don’t even know what he means by that, but I lower down all the same.

My thighs tremble as I’m basically doing a squat over him, and I feel his tongue as it swipes through me before sinking inside me for a beat. He moves it up to suck on my clit, and then he inserts two fingers.

And then my thighs really start to tremble.

“Oh God!” I cry out, bracing my arm against the window and bracing my head on my forearm. I look down at him.

He pulls back to peek up at my face, his fingers still driving into me, and he grins. “My name’s Cooper, but you can call me whatever you want.”

It’s cheesy, it’s adorable, and it’s so freaking sexy all at the same time.

He pulls his fingers out and dips his tongue into me again, and then he really goes to town, licking and sucking and doing something magical that I’ve never experienced before. “Fuck, you taste good,” he says, and he continues doing what he’s doing, but my legs can’t handle it.

“Cooper!” I gasp. “I can’t—I can’t—I can’t—”

I can’t form a sentence, apparently.

He chuckles as he pulls away, and then he moves out from under me, and I straighten then collapse on the couch beside us. I watch him as he pads across the room toward his suitcase, and he opens it, locates a condom, and rolls it on as he walks back across the room toward me. “I’ll take you up against the window before this weekend is over, but I don’t want your legs giving out on you,” he says once he’s hovering over me.

I don’t have time to form actual words since he chooses that moment to slam into me. My eyes roll back at the feel of him again, of this again, and I was seconds from tipping over the edge while he ate my pussy, so my climax is nearly immediate once he’s back inside me again.

He keeps going, riding out my orgasm with me, and then he slows his pace, luxuriating in the feel as the pulses over him start to wane. He keeps thrusting, making love to me, and I swear I see fireworks as he goes.

Once I’ve come back down, he starts to pick up speed again. He leans down to suck one of my nipples into his mouth, and I feel the crescendo start to build all over again.

This has never happened to me before.

Usually I’m a one-orgasm-per-night kind of girl, not multiple in the same few minutes.

But Cooper Noah has experience that trained him well. He knows what he’s doing when it comes to my body. I’ll gladly let him lead me into my second orgasm of the night. Hell, I’ll gladly let him lead me pretty much anywhere when he has me in his clutches this way.

“Fuck,” he hisses, drawing out the word, and just the sound of his voice and knowing that he’s deriving that pleasure from my body is enough to kick me into my second one.

“Wait for me,” he murmurs. “I’m almost there.” He picks up the pace, slamming into me, and I can’t hold it off. I’m desperate to come, greedy to soothe the brand new ache pulsing inside me, and then he growls, “Now.”

We both moan through the intensity, the two of us in sync as our bodies vibrate and throb with racking pulse after pulse of pleasure. And when it’s all over, when our bodies start to calm, he pulls out and collapses beside me, the two of us panting and sweating after the workout that just wrung us both out.

The best kind of workout.

“Let’s just stay here all weekend,” he suggests sleepily.

I giggle. “Didn’t you come to town to look at houses?”

“I’ll just stay with my boss.”

“Is he cool with you bringing women over?” I ask.

“Well, he’s part owner of a sex club, so yeah, I think he’d be okay with it,” he says. He shifts so he’s leaning up on his elbow, his eyes moving toward mine. “And let me clarify. Not women. Woman. One. Singular. I’m almost thirty-three. I’m allowed to bang my girl.”

“The one singular woman thing is cute, but back the truck up a sec,” I say, my brows knitting together. “What’s this now about a sex club ?”

He chuckles. “That’s what you picked up out of all that?”

“I said the other thing was cute,” I protest. “Sex club. Explain yourself.”

“I have nothing to explain,” he says, his hand moving to his chest in defense. “The dude invited me to this club he owns. The first floor is part nightclub, part…” He trails off as he searches for the words. “I don’t know. Part lounge with pool tables and these leather wingback chairs where big men can talk business.” As he says the last part, he lowers the pitch of his voice to mock the very men he’s talking about. “The second floor is basically a high-rent strip club, according to my buddy. I stuck to the first floor when I went. But the third floor…” He trails off again, and this time he shakes his head.

“The third floor?” I press.

“From what he said, it’s six private rooms that are basically suites with big beds and plenty of sex toys, and then there are four rooms that aren’t so private with either windows or two-way mirrors and little viewing areas where voyeurs can sit and watch.” He lifts a shoulder. “To each their own, and I won’t be a killjoy, but I feel like sex should be a private thing between two people.”

“Two things here. One, let me just say that I agree completely and I’m so glad we’re on the same page. I’m also glad to hear you didn’t actually go on the third floor. Or the second, for that matter. And second, just so you know, killjoy is an old man word. Now we say either buzzkill or don’t yuck someone else’s yum ,” I tease.

He laughs, and then he tackles me, peppering kisses on my naked body as I laugh right along with him. “Maybe I should take you to the sex club.”

“If it means I get to have sex with you…I’m in.”