Then Cole reached for her hand and Lucas released it. An electric charge singed over her skin as soon as Cole curled his fingers around hers. He pulled it up in a formal gesture and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“Ren, you look beautiful.”
She blushed. Actually blushed, her face warm with pleasure. Cole slowly lowered her hand and then motioned toward the door.
“Please come in.”
As soon as Ren stepped inside she noted the innate comfort that oozed from every corner. There was nothing cold or sterile about this house. It was warm and inviting. Decorated and furnished for comfort.
The couches and chairs were sumptuous, plush leather. The artwork wasn’t modern, inexplicable renderings of God only knew what. Instead there was a rustic theme both in décor and color scheme that she loved.
It looked—and felt—like Cole. The Cole she remembered. The Cole he always wanted to be.
Sadness and regret welled inside her. Perhaps this would have been their home. Or maybe she needed to accept that they weren’t meant to be.
For a moment she lost herself and nearly went to sit when Cole made a motion for Lucas to get comfortable. After a half step, she froze and went instead to the middle of the living room to await instruction.
Lucas had already told her. Tonight she was Cole’s to command.
She glanced Lucas’s way, just insecure enough to want his reassurance. He gave it with a slight nod. Approval flashed in his eyes, eyes that were usually closely guarded in front of others, but he knew how on edge she was.
Carefully she turned in Cole’s direction and raised her gaze until she met his. The intensity in his expression sent shivers down her back. It was a delicious sensation of knowing she was hunted. There was no mistaking the naked desire in those brilliant blue eyes.
She caught her breath, suddenly nervous, giddy,
Cole stared at Ren, his chest so tight it threatened to split open. She was here. In his living room, his home, where she belonged. Where she’d always belonged.
She was here but she belonged to another man, and Cole was expected to perform in front of him so he could be judged. Deemed worthy of Ren. Hell, this sucked. He didn’t want to share Ren with anyone. He wanted her where no one else could see her, where he could lavish her with attention. Spoil her endlessly.
Lucas’s words flashed in his mind. She needed strength. She liked the hard edges. She craved them, needed them. Whatever happened between them for the rest of their time together, tonight he had to convince Lucas Holt that he could leave knowing Ren would be taken care of.
“Come to me,” he said, not making a move toward her. It took a lot of discipline not to charge over, throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his bedroom. Fuck Lucas Holt and his damn expectations.
But he forced himself to maintain the tight discipline he held in all other areas of his life. Apparently when it came to Ren, everything he knew deserted him. She stripped him bare.
Ren walked on soft feet the few steps to where he stood. She was so close he could smell her. Sweet, a little exotic and infinitely mysterious.
Their gazes caught and held. He could drown in those oddly colored green eyes of hers.
“Kiss me.”
Her eyes widened. She was surprised by his command. But with little hesitation, she closed the remaining distance between them, pressed her body against his and leaned up to press her lips to his.
He inhaled deeply, overcome at the assault on his senses. Touch, smell, taste …Dear God, her taste.
He cupped her face in his hands and then slid his fingers back until they tangled in her hair. He held her captive, or maybe she held him in her thrall. Either way he wasn’t about to hurry this moment.
He fed on her lips. Absorbed her sweetness. Their tongues brushed, flirted, retreated and then boldly advanced again.
For too long he’d merely dreamed of holding her again. Of being able to kiss her and know that she was his.
His lungs screaming for air, he dragged his mouth away and slowly released her. She stumbled a bit and he caught her arms, glancing down at the wickedly high heels she wore.
He frowned. “Take off your shoes before you hurt yourself.”
There was faint amusement on her face as she slid the fuck-me shoes off and let them fall to the floor. As if he needed her wearing those shoes for him to want to fuck her …It was all he’d thought about for the last several days.
“You sound like Lucas,” she murmured.
He scowled, not at all flattered by the comparison. She frowned a little in return, worry flashing in her eyes. Worry that she’d displeased him. He purposely steeled his features, angry that he’d allowed her to see his reaction.
“Take off your clothes. Piece by piece. Don’t rush. You may lay them on the desk by the window.”
