“Good,” Cole said. “’Cause you are.”

Oh, goodie! cried the devil on Olivia’s shoulder, jumping up and down with excitement.

“No,” she gasped. “We can’t, the insulation—there’s no insulation— She can hear everything—”

“Then you’ll have to be quiet.” He accompanied this with another devastating stroke of his fingers.

And another.

More whimpers escaped her, unintelligible.

“Shh,” he murmured. “Not a sound or we’ll have to stop.”

“If you stop,” she gritted out, “I’ll kill you.”

With a badass smile, he brought her hand up to cover her own mouth, squeezing gently, silently telling her to keep a lid on it.

She tried, she really did, but she moaned when he slid back down her body. She lifted her hand enough to whisper, “Maybe we should just get to the main event.”

“No.”

No? “I’ve got a condom in my bathroom,” she whispered, “but I’m on the pill and haven’t done this in a long time, either, so it’s probably okay—”

His mouth closed over her and she whimpered again, tightening her hand over her lips as his talented fingers joined the fray and…drove her right over the edge. Her hips bucked and she shuddered wildly as she came.

In less than five minutes.

In another time and place, say when her head was actually sitting on her shoulders, she’d have to think about how he’d managed to do what even she couldn’t do for herself. Oh, she could give herself an orgasm, and so could a guy. It just usually took a lot of effort and some general fantasizing about Channing Tatum.

This time it took nothing but Cole.

By the time she came back to herself, he was pulling a condom from one of the myriad pockets of his cargoes. “Someday you’re going to show me what else you keep in your pants,” she said.

With a snort, he brought her hand to his impressive erection.

“This,” he said. “This is the most important item—” The laughter seemed to back up in his throat with a sharp inhale when she stroked him slow and long.

“Jesus, Olivia,” he groaned.

“Shh,” she said, mocking him. “Not a sound or we’ll have to stop.” And then she guided him home.

He pushed inside her, a delicious, warm, wet slide, and she had one last thought before a tidal wave of sensuality took her away.

She needed to enjoy the hell out of every single second of this, because just as surely as the sun would rise tomorrow and then set tomorrow night, Cole would eventually walk away.

Chapter 16

Holy mother of God. That was Cole’s only rational thought. He was balls deep inside Olivia’s tight body and reeling from sensory overload. It took everything he had to bite back the groan that wanted to escape.

She was having trouble keeping quiet, too. Her hand was still over her mouth, fingers white from pressing so hard. Leaning over her, he kissed those fingers as he pulled out of her and…pushed back in.

She caught his hips, wrapping her legs around him, digging her nails into his ass as he began to move, keeping him close and deep.

Right where he wanted to be. He couldn’t get enough of her. He loved her body, loved being all over it, and especially loved the reactions he got from it. But then she rocked up into him, tightening her long legs around him, and his entire world narrowed to senses, to how wet she was, to the way she clutched at him, the sound of her panting, the heat of her skin.

Planting an elbow near her head, he lowered himself enough to kiss her fingers, nudging them away from her lips so he could cover her mouth with his.

Beneath him, she shook as she came again, and watching her took him right along with her.

It might have been five minutes, an hour, or a lifetime later when he opened his eyes. He was warm. Actually he was toasty as hell, thanks to the woman curled into his side.

She was all over him. She had a leg thrown over his, an arm across his chest, her face pressed into his throat.

Either she was in a sexual coma or he’d killed her. “Olivia.”

She mumbled something and cuddled closer, rubbing the cold tip of her nose against his throat. Nope, not dead. “Supergirl.”

She tightened her leg and arm on him and then shifted her hips closer.

Yeah. He was on board with that and considered round two. The thought was tempting, so fucking tempting. How long had it been since he’d lost himself in a woman?

Since Susan.

Two years…

He hadn’t missed having someone in his life. He’d been busy holding on to his hurt, his fury. Holding on to it, nursing it, enjoying it even. But now, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why.

Moving on was a much better strategy, and he was mad at himself for not thinking of it sooner. Brushing the hair from Olivia’s face, he watched as her dark eyes opened.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi.”

“I was sleeping a little bit.”

“And drooling,” he said.

“I was not!” But she wiped her mouth and then narrowed her eyes when he laughed. “I don’t drool.”

“Okay, maybe you were just snoring,” he said.

She blinked. “I snore?”

“Loud enough to rattle the windows.”

She started to slip out from beneath him, but laughing, he tightened his grip and held her still. “My mistake, it was just the thunder.”