I didn't get much sleep that night and I wasn't complaining. Cole and I spent those precious hours before sunrise getting to know each other. There were very few words spoken between us, very few words of substance, anyway.
The soft glow from the small lamp on my nightstand captured our movements, cast our forms in flickering shadows against the walls, a sweat slick mass of tangled limbs. Needy and anxious whispers passed between us as I curled myself around him, as he pulled and pushed, moving my body in ways I'd not been aware it had been able to move. Pleasure mixed sweetly with the pain and I would think, fleetingly, that I would definitely be sore in the morning. Perhaps sensing my mind wandering, Cole would thrust deeply into me, the head of his cock hitting my cervix, bringing me back to the here and now, bringing my eyes back to his, claiming me.
Skin slipped along skin, tongues danced to an unknown yet familiar song, lips parted only long enough to give praise, to moan and plead for more, deeper, harder, faster. He was a generous and skillful lover and I tried my best to give as good as I got.
As the sun slid over the horizon and burned away the early morning fog, as exhaustion finally beat out need, we fell asleep, still entwined.
I woke on my own sometime around 10 and lay for a minute with the feel of Cole's breath warm on the back of my neck before extricating myself and slipping into the bathroom.
I took care of business and stood for a long moment staring at the disheveled creature reflected in the mirror. My hair, usually unruly, stood out in funny angles from my head. My lips were still slightly swollen from Cole's hungry kisses. My lightly bronzed skin seemed to glow and my eyes... Different somehow, wider and slightly unfocused. Satisfied... and a little bit frightened.
I exited the bathroom, turning out the light as I went. Crossing the room, I found myself sinking down on my knees beside the bed rather than climbing back into it.
Cole was lying on his side, the bend of his arms and the indent in the pillow the only evidence that I had been there just moments ago. Lifting a hand, I brushed a stray lock of dark brown hair back from his forehead, watching his mouth twitch slightly with the shadow of a smile. His lightly tanned skin looked good against the dark blue pillows and bed dressings. Inviting. I ran my hand lightly along the sculpted curve of his shoulder, along the ridges of his ribs and abs, adoring the way the flesh rippled under my fingers.
Suddenly, feeling as if I'd been dunked in ice cold water, I pulled back, pondering these strange new emotions flooding through me.
I looked around the room, at the clothes spread out across the carpet, and then back at the slumbering figure in my bed. This...this was new. And a little creepy. I was feeling up a man in his sleep, thinking how perfect he looked in MY bed, when before last night I wasn't even sure he'd known my name. This morning, I was familiar with the taste of his flesh, the way his body fit inside mine. I knew the rhythm of his hips as he slid between my thighs, the harsh sound of his breathing in my ear when he came. My name was a whisper, a prayer, on his lips. And, I wanted more.
For someone who rarely saw things through, who got a new tattoo or piercing whenever she got bored, just for the newness of it, it was strange to want to keep this man.
The distant sound of my cell phone ringing in the living room brought me back and I scuttled out of the bedroom, sliding into Cole's t-shirt as I went. The scent of his cologne still clung to it, fainter now, and my mind flashed back to the night before, sending a tremor along my spine.
The phone was still ringing when I made it to the living room. Carla's ring tone. Pulling it from beneath the couch, (God only knows how it got there) I hit the send button and was immediately bombarded with a dozen questions.
"Did you do it? How many times? How was it? Is he big? Is he still there? Did you do anything kinky?..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Will you please slow down? I haven't even had my coffee yet."
"I'm sorry," she replied, sounding anything but. "I'm just really happy for you."
I wrinkled my nose. "Your happy that I got laid."
Carla laughed. "Is that so wrong? You're a good kid, Lucky, and I think you need somebody like Cole Teague in your life."
I was curious about that statement, but I let it go. I leaned back into the couch, cringing at a small tug in my lower back, remembering how I got it. It wasn't a bad memory, a sign I'd done something right.
"In response to one of the fifty-eleven questions you just asked me; Yeah, Cole's still here. He's sleeping."
"'Atta girl!"
Carla was far too cheerful for my tastes this time of morning.
"Now, let me ask you a question," I said. "What in the world made you decide to hook us up?"
