Unearthing Cole by Arthur A.M

Author:Arthur, A.M. [Arthur, A.M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2013-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

WE NEVER really agreed that Jeremy was staying for the night. It just happened. After our actual, edible dessert, we watched a bad movie on cable and then ended up having sex again. I lasted much longer the second time, using every thrust and angle I knew to drive Jeremy to the very edge before helping him fall over, me not long after. Another quick cleanup led to a long bout of kissing, and at some point we crawled under the covers and went to sleep.

I startled awake to the sound of a cell phone ringing—not mine. Somehow Jeremy and I had ended up tangled together, me draped across his back, and when he tried to sit up the side of his head cracked into my chin. I swore as I rolled away, hot needles stinging my jaw and teeth. Jeremy tossed me an apologetic look as he dove for his jeans, discarded at the foot of the bed.

He glanced at the display and muttered something inaudible. “Collins,” he said to the phone. He blanched. “I know, I overslept. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” The voice on the other end squawked. “Because I’m not upstairs. See you in fifteen.”

The ancient alarm clock’s numbers glared their dirty secret at us—it was five minutes after ten. In the morning. We’d both slept in.

“Shit, I can’t believe I did that.” Jeremy stumbled toward the bathroom, then looked at me over his shoulder, regret in his dark eyes. “You mind if I hop into the shower? Meredith doesn’t have a key to open the store, and I was supposed to be there an hour ago.”

“No, go,” I said.

I stared at the ceiling while he showered, trying desperately to not imagine him naked, soaking himself, stroking himself. My entire body still buzzed with energy from our night together, high in a way I hadn’t been in years. It took the entire length of Jeremy’s brief shower to put a name to the pleasant emotion gripping me that morning—happiness. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt actual joy over something in my life. Despite the tedious cleanup still waiting for me, despite not knowing where I’d be in a month, and despite the fact that this was only temporary, I reveled in the happiness I felt over Jeremy. Over the combustible sex we’d had last night, and dear Lord, I wanted to do it again. Often.

Until I had to leave for good.

I just had to figure out how to tell all that to Jeremy.

He burst out of the bathroom, still zipping his jeans, chest damp, and made a dive for his crumpled shirt. As he popped it on and situated the fabric, he glanced at me. His eyes widened, and he froze with one hand midstretch, reaching for a discarded sock. “Shit, I said I’d give you a ride to the house.”

I shrugged, surprised I wasn’t more put out by the change of plans. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure out something.”

Scowling,

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