11. Cole

11

COLE

C arrie relaxes under me, and her pussy lessens its vice-like grip. She feels incredible, and I breathe deep so I don’t lose it too soon.

Looking her into her eyes is too intense so I kiss her mouth, pushing away the emotions that threaten to flood me.

This is a one-time only deal. It’s what we both want. I remind myself of that as her legs wrap around me, as she moans under me and as I lose myself in the deep pleasure of her.

I grab her ass in my hand and lift her hips, sending myself deeper inside. She cries out, but her noises are all of pleasure, the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard. I roll my hips, wanting to make her moan again, wanting to make her scream my name, to hear it on her lips as she comes undone for me.

I thrust deeper as my mouth travels down her neck and captures a nipple in my teeth. She hisses at the sensation and I flick my tongue, giving a lick of pleasure to the bite of pain. She groans and I do it again, loving the way she responds to every movement, every new sensation.

“Cole…” she moans. “I think I’m…”

Her words are cut off by a series of yelps as she reaches her climax. Her pussy gushes, giving me some relief from the tightness of her virgin channel.

I pull back to watch her face contorted in ecstasy. Perspiration beads on her forehead, and her hair sticks to her cheek. Her eyes roll back, and her mouth pops open.

As I lose myself in Carrie, I already know one time will never be enough.

Her orgasm reaches its shaky conclusion and I roll my hips over her sensitive clit, teasing out another one. Her responsiveness make my balls pull up tight, and this time as she comes I let myself go, thrusting into her until my release explodes with all the force of a man who hasn’t had a woman in four years.

We lie together on the blanket, her head on my chest and her damn flyaway hair tickling my chin. I could get used to this. The thought comes unbidden into my head, and it’s a dangerous thought. I swore I’d never let anyone down again after Mel.

I was away on assignment when Mel got sick. She was on her own with two babies to look after. She kept telling me on the video calls we had each week that she was tired and low on energy, and we both thought it was because of the pressure of parenting. Gran stayed in the big cabin some nights to do the night shifts so Mel could sleep.

She kept telling me she was fine. That it was postpartum tiredness, even though it had been nine months since Kyra was born. I believed her. Because when you’re in a war zone fighting for your country, you need to believe everything is okay back home.

It was a long assignment, seven months before I came home. I knew as soon as I saw Mel that something was wrong. You don’t notice if you see someone everyday how thin they get, how grey their skin is. But seeing her in the welcome room sitting down because she didn’t have the energy to stand up, I knew something was wrong.

I took her to the doctor the next day, and after a series of tests, ovarian cancer stage four was diagnosed. She was gone nine months later.

If I hadn’t been away, I would have seen it earlier. I would have insisted she go to the doctor; they might have been able to do something.

I let her down, and I deprived my girls of a mother. I swore I’d never be in that position again. It’s not only that I don’t want a wife, but I don’t deserve one.

Even if Carrie wanted to stay, and I doubt she does, she deserves better than a man like me.

So even though my chest feels light with her head resting on it, I shut that part of me away, the part of me that can imagine a life with Carrie. I shut it up and lock it deep inside me.

This was a one-time only deal; we both wanted it, and now we can act like adults and she can leave, and I can go back to my life with the girls.

“I need to get going. The girls will be home soon.”

Carrie stretches, and she’s still not dressed. I look away quickly before her perfect breasts convince me this could be something else.

I don’t look as her as I pull on my jeans and button my shirt back up. By the time I’ve gotten dressed and the picnic is packed up, Carrie stands by the river, looking out at the view.

It takes all my willpower not to touch her again, but the transaction is over. She wanted one time, and that’s what I gave her.

We ride back in silence, and the closer we get to home the more my resolve sets in. I don’t need anyone else in my life, and I sure as hell don’t deserve this woman.

We get back to the paddock, and as we’re brushing down the horses, Carrie peers up at my shyly.

“Do you and the girls want to come over for dinner? I don’t have much room in the cabin, but I make a mean spaghetti bolognaise. I put hidden vegetables in it. My nephew loves it, and he has no idea he’s eating blended cauliflower.”

She’s smiling, and I can’t look her in the eye as I shake my head. “It’s a school night. The girls have homework.”

“Oh sure,” she says. “Um, maybe you could sneak back later?”

The invitation makes my dick twitch. But it’s not fair to Carrie. She might form an attachment to me, and that wouldn’t be good. It’s best if I cut this thing loose .

“I don’t like to leave the girls alone.”

“Oh, of course. See you later then.” She turns quickly and heads for her cabin, her shoulders hunched.

“Damn,” I mutter to myself. This is exactly why she doesn’t deserve me. I let women down. I’m an asshole at heart, and Carrie deserves better.