22. Dana

Chapter 22

Dana

D rew slept so deeply I wondered if he'd ever wake up.

I turned off the light to the small spare room in Cole's penthouse after setting up the nanny cam I'd brought up just in case. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made a mistake, if I hadn't thought it through enough, if I'd made my decision on a whim. But how could I have? I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the positives and negatives for weeks. I'd thought it through.

He was on me the second I shut the door to the master.

His arm around my waist, his hand cupping my cheek, his lips just a hairsbreadth from my own. I leaned into him, drinking in the scent of his cologne and the hint of ocean spray, the smile far too strong to try to hold back.

"I don't deserve you," he said casually, as if he genuinely believed it but couldn't give a shit.

"You do, though," I breathed. Our noses touched as I looked up at him, a lone, dusty blonde curl falling forward into his face. "I wouldn't have said yes if you didn't."

His fingers tightened around my waist, so hard they were almost bruising. "It still doesn't feel real," he chuckled, his lips pressing against mine briefly before pulling away, only to kiss me again. And again.

Somewhere between the fourth and twentieth kiss, I deepened it, holding him to me instead of letting him back away. A stifled groan of relief seeped from his throat, his body springing into action. He fisted the fabric of my dress so hard it nearly tore, and with any other garment I wouldn't have cared, but Lottie had spent too much on it and I didn't want to ruin it.

"Off," I mumbled, reaching around my back for the zipper. Cole's hand followed mine, grasping the dangling piece of metal before I could and pulling it down. He pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders, and within seconds the soft, dark green fabric was on the floor, leaving me entirely bare before him.

"You fucking tease," he growled, the words guttural as he walked me backward toward the wall. "You spent the entirety of dinner wearing nothing underneath that?"

I giggled, gasping as his mouth met my collarbone, his teeth baring down on me. "Maybe," I said. I watched him as he devoured my skin, still fully clothed with a bulge between his thighs. Being this exposed when he wasn't made me feel even more naked.

"You're lucky I haven't had my dessert," he mumbled, and before I could even blink he was on his knees. " Yet. "

He kissed up and down the inside of my thigh, making my breath hitch as he looked up at me. His fingers dug into my hips, his free hand pushing my legs apart. I leaned against the wall for balance, watching as patches of my skin turned red from his nibbles and nips. His mouth moved higher, dangerously close to where I could already feel a pool of liquid heat forming.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he said, his nose flitting against the short patch of hair between my thighs. "Beg me for it."

With shaking hands, I pushed his hair back from his face, cupping his cheeks. "Please," I whispered. "Please, Cole, touch me."

With a grunt, his mouth latched onto my most sensitive spot. I tilted my hips forward, giving him easier access, sinking into him. I'd never get over this, over him, and the way he seemed to know my body better than I did. It was as if he picked up on cues I didn't even know I was giving, as if he understood the way my body ached for him, giving it exactly what it wanted.

With one hand gripping my ass for support, he squeezed, his nails digging into my skin. His other slid up between my thighs, the warmth of his tongue dragging along my clit, vicious in its movements, before dipping down to my entrance and drinking in every last ounce of me.

"You're too much," I whined, shifting my hips again in search of the fingers I knew were close by. "Too good."

"And you're everything," he said, the words muffled, the vibrations sending a little shockwave through me. He chuckled darkly, his fingers finally teasing my entrance, his others releasing my ass. "You like how that feels, don't you? When I speak to you like this."

I nodded weakly, my release already coiling tight in my gut.

His hand grabbed his belt, unlatching it swiftly and pulling it through each loop with a satisfying thwack . The same moment his thick, veiny cock sprung out from his slacks, his fingers sunk inside of me, filling me, but it still wasn't enough. They could never be enough, not when I wanted him.

He pulled his mouth away, giving me a full view of how hard he was and the droplets of precum leaking out.

And then he touched himself, and I thought I might die right there.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes fluttering as he tipped his head back, his Adam's apple straining. He moved from base to tip, base to tip, taking his time as he curled his digits inside of me, his thumb absently flicking against my clit. "Look how hard you make me. Look how much you make me want you."

My body tensed, the imminence of my orgasm almost too much to bear. "Cole, please, please, I'm so close?—"

He sprung forward in an instant, replacing his twitching thumb with his mouth. His other arm moved with each tug he made on his cock, his grunts and groans setting off those little vibrations he'd given me before. He sucked, nipped, licked at my clit like a fucking madman, and within seconds I was crashing, my hand over my mouth to contain the shriek I knew would come as pleasure ripped through my veins like wildfire.

"That's it, baby," he said, and I fucking lost it.

Not even his hand between my thighs could keep me upright. My knees gave out, and down I went into his waiting arm, his other still pumping himself as I shook with every cascading wave. I kissed him sloppily, tasting myself, coating my lips in the same dampness that coated his.

Without thinking, I pushed him back with shaking hands to give myself access to his nearly fully clothed body. He leaned back onto the wood floor on his elbows, releasing his grip on his cock as I took over with my mouth instead. I couldn't escape the innate need to pleasure him, to take him as many times as he'd let me. We wouldn't be nearly done after this—no fucking way.

He plucked his buttons open, one by one, taking his time but I didn't want to take my time. I didn't want to hesitate.

Bowing my head, I wrapped my lips against the swollen, bulging head of his length. The darker-colored skin of his shaft disappeared inside my mouth, and as I looked up at him, his lips parted as he let out a steady moan, his vivid green eyes locked with mine.

His fingers fisted my hair, getting a good grip on my scalp to the point that it almost burned, and slowly, gently, he guided me back up. His breath shuddered as I released him entirely with a pop , a string of saliva hanging from my tongue and connecting me to the flesh of his glans.

"God," he rasped.

He pushed me back down again, the tip of his cock pressing against my lips to let him back in. The sounds he made, the twitches against my tongue, all made me the more ready for him. I took him into the back of my throat, cutting off my breathing for just a moment, and he fucking whimpered.

Oh, the power I had taking him like this.

Using my hand to keep him steady, I picked up speed, following his direction. He was hard as fucking stone, almost scalding hot to the touch. "Fuck, Dana, fuck?—"

I slipped my mouth from him again, teasing him instead with my hand, and met his gaze. "Yes?"

"No, no, please, baby, please," he whined, his hand pushing against my head to try to get my mouth back on him. "Please. I'm so close, I need you?—"

Laughing at how easily he came undone for me, I shoved him back into my mouth, twisting just a little with each pump of my hand around the base. My tongue slid along the bottom, flicking against the little ridge that separated his shaft and head, and just as I felt him twitch again, his balls tightening and his cock fucking straining, I pushed myself down to the base.

He came in an instant, his groan a little too loud. Warmth slid down the back of my throat as heaving, shaky breaths wracked his chest. Slowly, gently, I pulled my mouth from him, panting from the loss of oxygen.

His pupils blown, he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, gently pushing the little drop of his cum that had escaped back into my mouth.

I sucked it clean.

"I was right," he grunted, his voice rough and heavy. "I don't fucking deserve you."

————

I hadn't been able to get my fill of him no matter how many times we'd collided.

Two days passed in a blur of pleasure, showers, and parenting. We'd barely left his penthouse save for the few times we'd needed something of Drew's from my suite. Every fucking moment he was out cold, I couldn't keep my hands off of Cole.

We barely slept. We barely ate.

What I'd originally thought was just a need for affection after far too long without it was so much more. Every kiss, every cuddle, every second he spent buried inside of me felt too damn perfect to be just that. I hadn't made a mistake in saying yes. I was sure of that now.

On the final night of the retreat, we'd collected ourselves enough to make an appearance downstairs with the rest of the group. The staff drank and toasted to a vacation well-deserved, and in solidarity with Cole, the two of us had cheers-ed with the rest of them with a glass of Diet Coke, Drew with a half-full bottle of breastmilk.

"Dana!"

Allison, my manager, pushed through the sea of people to approach me, her grin far too wide to not be suspicious.

"I've barely seen you since we got here," she said. The little smirk that tugged at her lips told me she knew exactly why that was, especially with Cole behind me, his hand protectively on the small of my back as he spoke to Ben.

"I…" I couldn't think of what to say. Instead, I let out a breathless chuckle, my cheeks heating. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she laughed, taking a sip of her drink and flashing me knowing eyes. "It's none of my business what goes on between consenting adults."

I readjusted Drew, shifting him further up my hip as he kicked. He was absolutely going to break another of my ribs if he got much stronger. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind," I admitted.

She nodded, waving a single hand at Drew as he animatedly waved back at her. Her voice dropped, just a little quieter than the din of the crowd of employees, and she leaned in closer. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I am."

————

The morning of departure, Cole met me in my room far before when he said he would. He came empty-handed, his bags already on their way to the airport, and helped me make sure I hadn't forgotten a single thing of mine or Drew's. He packed up my things as I packed Drew's, his worry over misplacing things incorrectly or confusingly making my chest warm.

And he carried everything .

The diaper bag, Drew's luggage, my luggage, even my purse. All I needed to worry about was the slightly snotty baby on my hip and his little plastic giraffe.

The drive to the airport was almost too short. I wasn't entirely ready to say goodbye to the little slice of paradise I'd found the last ten days, but I needed to believe I could have that back home in Boulder, too. We needed to see how we both fared in the real world—him with his temptation and us being in a relationship.

We could make it work and I truly wanted it to.

The same people who had flown down to Costa Rica with us joined us for the flight back. Drew slept almost the entire way, either in his foldable bassinet or on Cole's lap. The little dribbles of snot weren't entirely unusual for him, but I made a note in my calendar on my phone to make an appointment with his doctor just in case.

Cole didn't seem to have any problem wiping it away with a tissue.

For the millionth time in the last week alone, the weight of my secret pressed down on my shoulders. I owed it to him now more than ever; if we were going to try our hand at an actual relationship, he deserved to know instead of assuming he'd be helping raise someone else's child. He hadn't had a single blip while we were in Costa Rica, not a mention of needing to drink or a craving. I knew he was itching to get through meetings, but he seemed to be making major improvements from that night at the liquor store.

It was risky, involving him this much with his son. But it was a risk I felt ready to take. If we could get through this and make it out the other side, it would be good for us. For our family. I just needed to tell him.

No matter the reaction.

No matter if it meant an argument and turmoil.

He deserved to know.

The landing back in Boulder was a little rough with the winds coming over the mountains. Drew sobbed, his little plastic giraffe not quite enough to keep him distracted from the pain in his gums and ears. I'd said my apologies to the rest of the staff on the plane, but Cole had cut me off, insisting it wasn't anything to apologize for.

We waited for the rest of them to deplane before we gathered our things. Cole took Drew as I packed up his bag, making sure nothing was left behind, especially the giraffe.

"I think he might lose his mind if I lost that," I laughed, looking back at him over my shoulder as I walked down the steps of the plane onto the tarmac. Cole carried him against his chest, the smallest bit of saliva on his t-shirt.

"I mean, honestly, baby, does he even need teeth?" he laughed, joining me before the steps retracted. "It seems like a recipe for disaster if he's still occasionally breastfeeding?—"

The smile on Cole's face fell, his eyes looking over my head and somewhere behind me. His hand tightened on Drew, holding him just a little bit closer, his body tensing.

I turned, following his line of sight, but came up only with a couple who looked to be in their early sixties with two teenagers on either side of them. A girl and a boy, lost in the screens of their phones as they stood still on the runway, a chartered private jet wheeling out toward them.

Cole didn't take his eyes off of them. Something unspoken hung in the air, something thick and angry. I almost wanted to take Drew from him.

"What's wrong?" I asked. His knuckles had gone white from the death grip he had on the handle of his luggage, but the arm around Drew remained calm and secure. Every bit of light I'd seen in his eyes for the last week came to a grinding halt. "Cole? Who are they?"

Blinking, he slowly turned to look at me, his mouth parted and his eyes more hollow than I'd seen in over a year.

"They're my parents," he breathed, his tone so cold, so dead, that I nearly didn't comprehend it.