The One Real Thing
Page 63

My gaze zeroed in on his thick, long dick, which stood at throbbing attention for me.
Yes, please!
It was like I was a teenager again. Or what I thought I would have felt as a teenager if I’d ever found a boy to love—impatient with emotion and, more urgently, hormones.
“Cooper,” I said, and he heard the urgency in my tone because he was rolling the condom down his cock in seconds. He took hold of my thighs, parted them, and thrust inside of me. “Oh, God—” My breath caught at the sensation of him filling me.
All I could feel was him pulsing inside of me, and his heated skin under my fingertips. All I could smell was him—the woodsy cologne with a hint of spice he wore, and now the added base note of sex.
He was everywhere and everything.
His mouth came down on mine as he started to move in fast, hard thrusts. It was sensational. The desperateness to his kisses; the hurried, frantic rush for ecstasy.
“Jessica,” he groaned, breaking our kiss to press his face against my neck, “Fuck, Jessica, yes, Jess, Jess . . .” He said my name every time he pounded into me.
I could only hold on for the ride, pleasure sparking me ever closer to igniting every time my inner muscles squeezed his cock.
I slid my hands down inside his jeans to grip his firm, muscled buttocks, urging him against me. I wanted it even harder, faster.
Cooper pulled back, his expression fierce as he got the message, and he tilted my lower body so he could slide into me at a different angle.
Lights exploded behind my eyes.
No joke.
I think I might have screamed.
“Oh, God!”
And suddenly everything was harder, faster, deeper, dirtier.
It was rough, unadulterated, fierce, raw sex.
I came hard, and the pulsing waves of my orgasm tugged Cooper’s cock so intensely I took him over the edge with me.
“Fuck!” he growled, his hips jerking against mine as my body demanded his climax from him.
I rested my forehead on his strong shoulder and tried to catch my breath. If it wasn’t for Cooper still holding me against him I think I might have melted right off the table onto the bar floor. My muscles were languid, like I’d just had a deep-tissue massage. Except sex with Cooper was better than any massage I’d ever had.
By a mile. By a thousand. Okay, a million.
My cheeks turned hotter than they already were because I suddenly wasn’t sure if I should be embarrassed that it had taken me until I was thirty-three years old to have the best sex of my life.
As a doctor I knew that that was entirely normal. There were some women who couldn’t orgasm from penetration alone and I was one of the lucky ones who could. There were some women who would go their whole lives having mediocre sex.
I should feel lucky.
But I was embarrassed to have climaxed so fast.
I was willing to bet Cooper had never been with a woman who had lit up and exploded that quickly. Usually, I made Andrew work for it and that got him all worked up and he loved that.
Likely Cooper’s “outrageously gorgeous” ex-wife had made him work for it.
What if I seemed gauche and inexperienced in comparison?
“Doc,” he murmured against my cheek, “I can practically feel you overthinking this.”
I slowly pulled my head from his shoulder and looked into his face.
The low-lidded relaxed expression of satisfaction he wore eased my concerns a little. Cooper caught my lower lip with his thumb, his eyes steady as he said softly, “You’ve got the prettiest mouth I’ve ever seen in my life.”
God! He was so charming. He’d literally charmed the panties right off me.
I suddenly remembered the woman on the beach and Bailey telling me he’d dated a lot of women before me. Practice made perfect after all, huh.
I froze.
How many women had he screwed in his pub?
He sighed and squeezed my waist as he slowly pulled out of me. “Wait right there.”
He turned and walked toward the staff room, pulling up his jeans to cover my delectable view of the top of his muscular ass. Denied said view, I looked elsewhere and found myself mesmerized by the delicious V of his torso. I remembered what it felt like to cling to his big, broad shoulders as he moved in me.
Needing to occupy myself in some way, I hopped off the table, pulled the straps of my dress back up, grabbed my sweater, and searched for my panties. I couldn’t find them.
“I thought I told you not to move.” Cooper reappeared, his jeans refastened.
“No, you just said ‘wait right there.’”
“On the table.” He smirked at me as he reached for his T-shirt.
I wanted to pout when he put it back on.
But I didn’t have any time because Cooper wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me up against him. With his other hand he cupped my nape and drew me to him for a long, sweet, deep, intimate kiss that had me clinging to his strong shoulders again.
When he eventually broke our embrace he stared into my eyes as if he were searching for something. “You’re not regretting this, are you, Doc?”
Why did it feel like having sex had complicated things so much? Usually sex was complication-free for me.
But before that night I’d been completely sure that Cooper was interested in exploring something more with me, and now I was freaking out that his interest would wane now that he’d had me.
I shook my head slowly. “No. It was good.”
He scowled, his arms tightening around me so much there wasn’t an inch of space between us. “It was better than fucking good, Jessica.”