Branded by Candace Havens Page B

the couch, needing to stretch my legs. We were in the living area. There was a flat screen and some worn leather couches that seemed great for Sunday naps. True to his word, Cole had helped me through some of the tougher problems. Now he was checking over my last few answers.
    I was curious about the bookshelves on either side of the television. There were classics mixed with bestsellers and horror novels. I picked up a Thomas Hardy novel. “Are these books yours or Charlie’s?”
    “The westerns and some of the classics are my uncle’s. The one you’re holding is mine.”
    “You’re like some kind of renaissance guy. You know business stuff, you’re good with animals, and you’re also well-read. I haven’t known you very long, but I’m impressed by you. Besides, you have a really nice cock.” That last part just fell out of my mouth. But dammit, I’d spent an hour next to half-naked Cole knowing he had a hard-on for me.
    I mean, how much was a girl supposed to take?
    That crooked smile of his nearly did me in. It definitely did things that dampened my panties.
    “You know I’m not good for you, right? I can’t ever be the sort of guy your grandparents would want you to date.”
    I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “It’s just sex. I know. I know. Let’s get on with it.”
    He laughed out loud and set my laptop on the coffee table. “You better come save your homework.”
    I did, and then I bent over, my ass in his face, and made a show of shutting the laptop.
    “I’m a bit rough. You deserve someone who is gentle, and I’m not sure I can be that guy.” His hand ran up the inside of my thigh, and my body trembled.
    One touch and I was goner.
    Oh, hell yeah. More please.
    “I don’t need gentle. I like what we’ve done so far. If gentle means less than that, I’m not really interested. I want more.”
    He grunted. “I’m going on record as saying you might be better off with one of those country club boys you’re so fond of.”
    I punched his arm. “That’s just mean. You know those guys are a bunch of boring asses. Why would you want to pawn me off on someone who probably doesn’t have a clue about sex other than getting himself off?”
    “You didn’t seem to mind the one who took you to a concert on his private jet.”
    “That one is a friend. I could have fucked my way through half the country club, but until I met you, there was no one I desired in that way. No one who made my panties wet or my breath catch. I tried to have sex with pencil dick, but did I mention the part where he came about three seconds after he entered me? That’s why it hurt a little that first time with you. I think I was technically still kind of a virgin.”
    He pulled me on top of him, my hands against his chest, my legs straddling his thighs.
    “No one has ever made me wake up so hot and bothered that I had to get myself off in the shower,” I said. “I woke up wanting you. That’s never happened.”
    He emitted a sound that was suspiciously growl-like, and then I was in his arms, his lips pressed against mine. He slipped his hand to my ass.
    Yep. This is what I desired. I gave in to the sensation of his fingers squeezing me tightly. He trailed his lips down my throat and brought one of his hands up to untie my shirt and push my bra down. Teeth nipped at the bud, and my sex contracted. I hissed.
    “That what you want, baby?”
    It was impossible to form words, so I moaned.
    He slid his hand down inside my shorts and rubbed against my sex.
    “Yes,” I begged.
    “Yes what? Make you come?”
    “Please. Please.”
    He pumped his fingers inside me, rubbing against that inner wall so hard it took only seconds for the muscles around his fingers to squeeze and the euphoria of orgasm to pulse through my body. It was as if I were coming apart, and his hands owned my body. I rode his fingers, and he sucked even harder on my nipple, the mix of pleasure and pain sending my body over the edge into a quivering pile of