Capturing Peace
Page 29

“Coen . . .”
He huffed and he flashed a quick smile. “I slept,” he replied, and shrugged.
“Uh, yeah?”
Shaking his head quickly, he smiled at me and cupped my face in his hands before kissing me thoroughly. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in . . . in years.”
I smiled against his lips and kissed him again. “Really?”
“Yeah, Reagan. Really.”
I kind of wanted to say something like “best sleep ever,” but just then Coen began teasing my tongue with his own, and all thoughts of actual conversation died.
Positioning myself better so I was fully on top of him, I spread my legs slowly until my knees were pressed against the mattress and I was straddling him. Coen growled into my mouth when his hardening c**k pressed against my core, and I rocked myself against him—­craving the feel of him.
“Reagan,” he said my name in warning. “You’re loud.”
I smiled. “And you know how to shut me up.”
The sound of approval in his chest had my insides heating faster. Gripping my hips, he moved me up and slowly slid me back down his length as he asked, “How long until Parker wakes up?”
I whimpered, and it took Coen asking me again before I finally responded. “An hour,” I said breathily.
“Perfect.”
I SMILED AGAINST Coen’s kiss almost an hour later as he passed me to pick his shirt up off the floor and pull it over his head. My eyes followed the shirt as it covered up his lean muscles and tattoos, and I frowned now that he was fully clothed.
“Keep looking at me like that, Duchess, and I’m taking you back to bed,” he said huskily, his eyes never once meeting mine.
After last night, and then again in the bed and shower this morning, there should be no way I could even think about that. Just once with him, after six and a half years without anyone, had left me aching in the most amazing way. But even still, a heat started deep in my stomach and my arms were covered in goose bumps as a shiver worked its way up my spine.
Coen looked over at me before doing a double take. A smirk tugged at his lips as he walked over to me to brush a kiss against my neck. “Your son is going to wake up. As much as I want to spend all day with you . . . in you . . . it’s time to get dressed.”
From the deep laugh that burst from his chest when he moved away, I’m pretty sure I was pouting like a three-­year-­old. Picking up the shirt I’d dropped as I’d watched him dress, I put it on and thought of something for the first time since I’d asked Coen to stay the night.
“Parker . . .”
Coen raised an eyebrow at me and looked toward the door for a second. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“No, I just . . . I didn’t think about this.”
Understanding washed over his face. “About him waking up, and me being here . . . in the same clothes?”
I nodded and bit down on the inside of my cheek. “But I doubt he’d notice your clothes. If he had it his way, he’d wear the same thing every day of the year.”
Coen smiled and walked closer to me. Holding out his hand, he waited until I put my hand in his before pulling me toward him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Reagan, but I think it’s way too early for him to find me here in the morning. Too soon for him, too soon for our relationship . . .”
“Good!” I blew out a relieved breath and moved so I was pressed against his chest. “I think it is too. I’m happy you stayed last night, and if you ever want to, I want you to stay again. But I don’t think Parker should know that yet.”
His dark eyes showed just how glad he was that we were both on the same page with this. “So, should I leave through the window or . . .” he teased, and kissed me quickly when I laughed and pushed against his chest.
“We’ll just have to be quiet,” I whispered, and winked at him as I led him from my bedroom and through the hallway. When we got to my front door, I looked up into his dark eyes and was already wishing for another night with him. “Thank you for staying.”
That look was back. Like I’d just given him the most amazing gift. I didn’t understand it. But if I got kisses like the one he gave me just then every time he looked at me like that, then I’d want to get that look all the time. “Thank you,” he said softly when the kiss ended. “Have a good day, Reagan.”
“You too.” I watched him walk out to his car, and as soon as he was in it, shut the door and tried to school my expression before waking up Parker.
Walking into his room, I smiled when I found him starfished on his stomach, his temporary tattoo on display.
“Wake up, honey,” I crooned softly as I rubbed his back. “Parker, wake up.”
He rolled his head to the side and looked up at me sleepily.
“Morning.”
“Hi, Mom.” He did a weird little wave before gasping and sitting up on his knees and looking around.
“What’s wrong?”
“Where’s Coen?”
My body froze. Had he heard us? Oh God. My stomach filled with dread at that thought. “He’s at his house, baby.”
When Parker looked at me again, he was disappointed. “Oh.”
I licked my lips quickly and had to look away for a second as I tried to compose myself. “Why did you think he’d be here?”
Parker shrugged and looked down at his lap as he mumbled something.
“Don’t mumble.”