Page 114 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

But not even my cute puppy snapped me out of my anger. I let her lick while I planted my hands on my hips and glared at Cole.

He ignored my scowl and took a step toward me. “What happened??

??

I threw out an arm. “I went upstairs to take a shower but I tripped on one of your towels and broke the beer bottle I was carrying.”

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, I didn’t get hurt. This time. But what about tomorrow? Or the next day?” With flailing arms, I let go of a rant that had more to do with my emotional state than Cole’s towel. “You’re a slob. You leave shit all over the house and I’m sick to death of cleaning it up.”

“Slow down.” His jaw clenched as the gentle vanished from his voice. “I don’t expect you to pick up after me. But I’m not a slob. I’m just not a clean freak.”

“You think I’m a clean freak?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I bent down and scooped up Nazboo, then marched toward the door. “Fine. I’ll be a clean freak in my own house.”

I didn’t make it two steps before two strong arms banded around my shoulders, pulling me back.

One second Nazboo was in my arms and then she was back on the floor. The next second, Cole spun me around and slammed his mouth on mine.

I fought his kiss, keeping my lips pursed as he ran his tongue along the seam. But with every touch, the fire he stoked melted my resolve.

He growled against my lips—the vibration sending a shudder down my back—then his arms banded around me so he could hoist me up and haul me to the counter.

The cold from the marble seeped through my jeans, but it did nothing to temper the hot throb at my core. My fingers plunged into Cole’s hair, tugging and pulling his thick, dark strands. As I slanted my face, he took control of my mouth.

I moaned as his hands ran down my sides, pawing my breasts through my T-shirt and bra, then trailing down to the button on my jeans. There was no fumbling when it came to Cole’s hands. He flicked the button with one twist while sliding my zipper down with the other.

Five seconds was all it took him to unfasten my jeans, fist the waistband and yank them down over my ass and thighs. He did it all without breaking his mouth from mine. As his hands came to the hem of my shirt to whip it off, I kicked my jeans off my calves and onto the floor.

Naked except for my bra, Cole shoved my knees apart. His rough grip on my thighs pooled the desire between my legs. He released his hard clasp on my thighs, and with the lightest touch, he traced his fingers from my knees to my hips. I loved when he did this—when he’d alternate between reckless abandon and measured deliberation. The combination left me limp and pliable under those large hands. Completely at his mercy.

His fingertips changed directions, feathering down to my slit, as his tongue plundered my mouth. When he dipped his middle finger into my wetness, I moaned into his mouth. When he added his index finger, stroking me on the inside at the same time his thumb found my clit, I broke away from his lips, barely able to breathe.

“Cole. I need you.”

His answer was to plant his lips on the side of my neck and suck. Hard.

As his fingers worked in and out, my head lulled to the side. My legs trembled as they dangled off the counter, and with every stroke of his long fingers, he pushed me farther and farther to the edge. I was just about to come when Cole’s mouth left my skin and his fingers slid out.

My whimper just made him smile. He took a step back as I reached for him, smirking as he brought his hand to his mouth. Then, with his green eyes locked on mine, he sucked me off his fingers.

“Oh my god.” My pussy clenched.

Cole’s smirk grew as his fingers popped free from his mouth. Off came his shirt, the shallows between his peaked abs more pronounced than normal. He’d probably been at karate when I’d gotten here, working those muscles hard. But I didn’t let his abs distract me for long. Instead I followed the lines down and waited as Cole jerked off his jeans and black briefs.

When his hard cock sprang free, my pussy clenched again. I was so on edge—literally almost falling off the counter—I’d be coming around him by his third stroke.

It only took him two.

With one big stride forward, Cole grabbed my hips, bringing me onto his cock as he thrust inside, stretching me with a luscious burn.

When he pulled out and slammed back in, I cried out, the kitchen filling with sound as my orgasm washed over me in pulsing waves. My heels pressed into the cabinets underneath me as my toes curled in ecstasy.

“My pretty Poppy.” Cole ran his tongue along the shell of my ear, sending tingles down my neck.

I moaned again, clenching around Cole as his strokes picked up speed. My arms held on to his shoulders as he pounded hard, erasing all of the bad from my day. Because right here in this kitchen, all I cared about was us. Cole’s body inside mine. Him inside my heart.

He didn’t hold back as he kept thrusting. He didn’t take his time to build me up again—he was probably saving energy for a second round later. Cole squeezed his eyes shut and found his own release, spilling his hot come inside me as he tipped his head back and roared my name.