Bad Girl Read online

  He’s the same but looks wiser, maybe older, more handsome. He’s already knee-deep in cases over there and it shows. He’s a worker bee now, no longer my surf-loving hippie lover.

  “How did you—”

  He puts his finger over my lip. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  “I’m surprised.”

  He’s staring into my eyes, searching for something. I don’t know what.

  Is he looking for some signal? Some sign? Some secret I’m meant to be keeping?

  The gape between my legs slickens when he stares at me with his green eyes and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

  He never asked before, not once. Why is he asking now? Does he not know where he stands? Is he unsure of who I am or what I’ve become?

  “I want nothing more, Cole.”

  His breathing changes. The pursuit of oxygen becomes almost as challenging for him as the pursuit of me, it would seem.

  Cole strokes a hand through my hair and brushes his lips over mine, his mouth firm and soft, decisive and yet tender. I give him a chaste kiss back, our eyes locked on one another’s.

  He’s so tall and big and wonderful, my fifteen stone hulk, my most beautiful bedfellow. I push a hand into his hair and tug it, liking his shorter crop. He looks cleaner and more professional than the last time I saw him. He’s changed. Life’s changing him. He needs me. I can tell. I need him. I love him. I really love him.

  “Chloe,” he murmurs, sounding so vulnerable as he puts his hands in my hair and holds me close, “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I know.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders and stand on tiptoes to kiss his nose, then his forehead. “I know.”

  He puts his hands on my waist and I feel him growing in his shorts – because Aussies wear shorts to travel in, apparently, even when their destination is a country suffering the depths of winter. He moves in and kisses me harder, sealing his mouth over mine, then opening my lips with his, his minty breath mixing with mine. He must have freshened up a little before he came here. He slips his tongue into my mouth and my back straightens, my nipples prickle and my clit pushes out from beneath its hood, the cold air against my hot nerve centre so stark.

  His hand follows the curve of my waist, then my hip, until coming to my bare thigh. He slides his hand upwards and takes my shirt in his grip until feeling my naked ass, biting his lip, his eyes fluttering open and closed when he feels my exposed skin.

  “Do you wander around the house like this all the time?” he asks, touching his lips gently to mine, my heartbeat in my pussy now.

  “All the time,” I groan. “You see, I don’t get any visitors for some reason.”

  “Well, I’m here now babe,” he says, “I’m here now.”

  He slides both hands around my buttocks and my back hits the wall behind me. He kisses my mouth softly and then detours to my throat, tender and careful. I lean back into the wall, hold my hands in his hair and moan.

  Cole opens the top button on my shirt so he can slide the garment off my shoulders a little. His kisses cover my chest, my pussy aching for him, every ounce of moisture inside my body draining out of me through my cervix. I need him.

  “Cole,” I whisper. “I want you.”

  He captures my breast in his mouth and I cry out, both from the pleasure and the pain, his sucking furious, his whole mouth wrapped around me.

  He lifts me against the wall and pushes down the waistband of his baggy shorts and boxers, exposing his large, perfect penis, so pink usually, but ruddy tonight with lust.

  I take him in my hand and rub the head through my wetness. Cole pushes straight into me and I burst with pleasure, screaming out into the echoey hallway. He buries his face in my chest and I wrap my thighs tight around him, clinging on, not wanting to let go.

  He fucks me, getting deeper and deeper, his mouth on my chest, my nipple, my throat… all of my sensitive areas.

  I remember his rhythm, how familiar it is to me, how much I used to be able to rely on his sure and steady rhythm which I could rock back against and enjoy. I decide to do just that, pushing my hips back against his until my pussy grips him and I come, slicking his cock, my eyes tight shut, my cries unrestrained.

  “There she goes,” he whispers against my ear, “my Chloe.”

  I’m still incoherent when he starts climbing the stairs with me in his arms. How is he still so thick and deep inside me? Then I realise, he didn’t come. I don’t usually let him come inside me. He’d always pull out after making me come, then ejaculate on my stomach or breasts or ass. The other times he’d be wearing a condom if he wanted to pump inside me… because I didn’t want a child. I don’t care how reliable people say the pill is, me and Lily both agree, it didn’t work for Marie who now has three kids without even trying.

  We get to the bedroom and he withdraws, lays me on the bed and starts undressing himself.

  I unbutton my shirt and throw it away, waiting for him. He looks masterful and beautiful as he climbs onto the bed naked, his cock dripping with lust. I’m expecting to be fucked but get a shock when he leans down and circles his tongue around my clit.

  “Oh god,” I groan, wrapping my hands around his head as he works his tongue around my clit. “Oh god.”

  He dips his tongue inside me and I gasp with pleasure, sighing when he slips his tongue back up to my clit again.

  “Oh god, Cole,” I moan, as blood rushes into the most tender of places, my agony exquisite as I come beneath his tongue, thrashing and also banging my hips against his mouth.

  I’m floating on a wave of pure ecstasy when he climbs over me, licking his lips and delighting in what his efforts have produced. I run my hands down his back as he starts to move into position, his skin slick with sweat, firm and strong.

  He presses his mouth to mine and kisses me with more insistence than before, needing me to taste myself on his tongue. I take his offered kisses and kiss him back, hungry for him, desperate. I’ve missed him so much. He goes back to kissing my breasts and tugs at my nipples gently, growling as he pushes into me again, my pussy swallowing him so greedily we both groan from our bowels.

  Cole digs his fists into the bed and fucks me rampantly, my tits rippling back and forth, my hands on his muscular buttocks as he rocks hard into me, his teeth in his bottom lip, his eyes barely open. I orgasm yet again, the rippling starting in my pelvic bone before overwhelming me with severe convulsions.

  “I want to come inside you,” he groans, kissing my lips repeatedly. “Is that okay?”

  “I want that, baby,” I tell him, barely holding on, my lungs hurting and my body on fire.

  He lowers himself to me and holds my throat gently, his other hand in my hair. I embrace his body tight between my thighs, my feet on his buttocks. He licks into my mouth and I can’t believe we never made love like this before. How was it never like this in the past? He’s rocking slowly, tenderly, but I’m just as hot now as I was when he was rough a few moments ago.

  “Is that good,” he asks.

  “Yes,” I moan, “yes.”

  “I want to come in your pussy,” he says.

  “I said you could. I love your cock.”

  “I want to fill you with cum, Chloe. Tell me you want me to.”

  I press my nose to his. “I need you.”

  “Tell me, Chloe. Tell me you want me inside you.”

  “I want you inside me.”

  “No, tell me, Chloe,” he’s asking, and I hold onto him tighter, slip my thumb in his mouth and feel him nipping it gently.

  “I need your cum in my belly, Cole,” I tell him softly, “I need you to pump your cum deep into me, inside my body, where only you can go. I need you. Please, Cole. I need your juices filling me up. I want to come with you. I want to feel you fill me up. I want to feel it, want to know what it’s like.”

  “Has there been anyone since you came home?” he asks, pulling me tight against him, holding me as he’s fucking me.

  I let a tear go and whisper, “No.” />
  I know it’s wrong to still think about Adam, but at the same time I know that if Adam had been randy enough to try anything on Christmas Eve, I would’ve been thinking about Cole the whole time. That’s why I haven’t been with anyone since I left Oz.

  Cole kisses me violently and wraps an arm under my leg, holding me open for him to fuck hard. He pushes into me until I’m a trembling mess, aching to feel him, my clit on fire and constantly throbbing with desire.

  He erupts inside me with one hell of a blast that renders me immobile, shocked, stunned and elated. He rears back and pushes another load into me, making me blink fast as I come, gobbling him up. He eases himself down and teases the last of my aftershocks until collapsing onto the bed.

  In the aftermath of such brutal love, I have to fight the urge to cry. I also feel scared because there’s so much of him inside me and it’s terrifying. What if I do get pregnant and he doesn’t want me anymore?

  I’m about to leave the bed to go and douche when he grabs hold of me, tugging me back against him. He wraps his arms solidly around my front, his chest to my back. He drags the covers over us and whispers in my ear, “I love you.”

  Emotion rises up from every corner of me and floats to the surface all at once, my skin on fire, my eyes full of tears. I’m too shocked to say anything, especially as he appears to have gone straight to sleep, his heavy arms trapping me against him, no chance of me getting free.

  My hot tears drop everywhere, onto the bed, rivers down my arms, cascading over my cheeks and onto his hands. He doesn’t wake and I continue crying, in shock, so palpably in love with him I wish he were still awake just so I could say it back and I wouldn’t have to hold it in any longer.

  In his sleep he grasps me even tighter and holds my breasts, his breath in my hair, his legs tucked up behind mine.

  I decide to do something that goes against everything in my rulebook.

  I lie still and tell myself to accept that I have him. More importantly, I allow myself to feel happy and to admit I’ve fallen hard for him since we were parted – because I never realised what I had until it was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  At two a.m. he stirs, groaning in the next room.

  “Fucking jetlag,” he complains.

  “Could do with some jetlag right now or I’ll never get this done!”

  I’m still working in my office, desperate to clear the decks before tomorrow morning.

  He stumbles into the room and sees my papers everywhere. “What are those cunts doing? Working you to death?”

  I laugh. “It’s just for the first year they do this. Everyone has to get through it. Don’t worry, I’ll be at another firm within months, earning twice as much and have a secretary for all this. Just gotta get my foot on the ladder. We’re not all as marvellously talented as you, sweetheart.”

  He walks up behind me, rubs my shoulders and leans down to kiss my cheek. “I’m gonna take a shower, is that okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. Do you want me to make you any food or anything?”

  “A cup of tea would be bonza.”

  I giggle because as a rule Cole doesn’t really use much Australian slang when he’s around me; he thinks I’m ever so posh you see and doesn’t like to show himself up.

  The shower streams into life and he flushes the loo at the same time – big mistake.

  “English fucking plumbing,” he complains.

  I laugh my head off, the shower having turned to a drip while the cistern refills.

  It’s really so lovely to have him here, even if I didn’t expect him to turn up today. He told me he was getting in tomorrow but maybe he’d planned to sleep off the jetlag before coming to me and hadn’t wanted to wait – jetlag be damned.

  I only just managed to escape his arms earlier to finish off my work. I have a half day tomorrow and I was planning to use the afternoon to do the grocery shopping and perhaps buy something pretty to wear. Now that’s all shot to shit. Not to mention I was going to cook him a homemade stew and he won’t let me do that now, no way – Cole is the chef in this relationship, always has been, always will be. I’m actually a good cook, but as with everything in his life, he’s a perfectionist and a polymath – he’s good at everything and he’s bloody cocky with it. He’s the perfect man. He really, really is.

  I finish off some notes and pile all my files up, switch off my laptop and turn my phone to silent. If Polly from work texts me again, she can go fuck herself. She’s meant to be my senior and yet I’m the one always picking up her slack because I actually read the books and did the proper legwork in university. She probably got here on sheer luck alone.

  I skip downstairs and boil the kettle, rustling around for whatever I think he might like.

  It’s difficult because having been there myself, I know jetlag of this sort can really mess with your appetite even though you do kind of need something.

  He only wanted a cup of tea but I decide to overrule him and make a cheese and ham toastie. If I produce it, he’ll have to eat it.

  Five minutes later I’m climbing the stairs and he’s clean and bright, sitting up in bed with the covers over his lap. He grins when he smells the toastie.

  “Ah, god. Chloe. You must have known.”

  He chomps into it happily, never once complaining. I pass him a cup of decaf tea and enjoy one myself, sitting on the edge of the bed. Cole would spit it out if he knew it was decaf, but I have a busy morning tomorrow and don’t need to be kept up the rest of the night. He needs to go back to sleep or I will never get any z’s.

  I sit staring at the wall, listening to him chomping. I feel his eyes on me and his mind is working without him saying a thing.

  “I got tomorrow afternoon off work… and next week… and a bit of the week after,” I reveal, grinning.

  “Ha! How did you manage that?”

  I turn and grin. “Told them I need to work on my mental health. HR freaked and let me have it without question.”

  He laughs loudly. “You bad girl.”

  “I didn’t technically lie. If I don’t get a break then I am more than likely to rip someone’s head off in that office. The incompetency is so glaring.”

  “So fucking jack it in now,” he says.

  “Easier said than done. I’ve got all these cases now and I know if I palm them off on someone else, details will be missed, files will be misplaced and heads will roll. I’m managing the workload of two at the minute because somehow my partner is a fucking airhead who can’t even type.”

  He shakes his head. “Sounds like a load of bollocks to me. Wouldn’t put up with it, Chlo.”

  “I’ve just gotta prove this to myself if to nobody else, just stick something out, you know?”

  He finishes his toastie, puts the plate down on the floor and guzzles his tea down in one.

  “Come here.”

  I climb into bed in my shirt and slide onto his chest, my arm wrapped across his body.

  “You’re worth ten of anyone I know,” he says.

  “I like a challenge, you know that.”

  “I know.” He plays with my hair and kisses my forehead. “Hey, we can plan some fun times now, if you’ve got time off. You shoulda said and I could have already planned some stuff.”

  I lift my eyes to his and smile. “Wanted to surprise you.”

  We share a delicate kiss, so tender it makes my heart beat wildly out of sync and I feel light-headed. I tuck my head into his chest and smell his skin. He washes with soap and it smells wonderful and clean and like him. It’s an intoxicant when mixed with his natural musky smell. The sun seems to have a smell because it’s in his skin and it always smells warm and fragrant, like beaches and saltwater. He can never wash it out.

  I pull the covers off his lap and laugh a little. He tucks his hand under my hair and groans, “What?”

  “Hmmm,” I reply.

  I slither down the bed and press my nose to his junk. He smells of the soap and of him and it’s my favourite smell in the en
tire world. His beautiful big balls and his soft cock, all clean and bright and shiny again.

  I press a tender kiss to his penis and he almost jumps with delight, tugging his hand through my hair.

  “You smell wonderful, it’s my favourite scent,” I tell him, “eau de soap and cock. I can’t get enough of this smell.”

  I push my face into his privates and inhale deeply, careful not to hurt him. I kiss his length and his stomach, licking along the pronounced veins of his abdomen and the intersections of his waist and hips. Cole is big and hard in no time, his scent suddenly more dominantly sexual, less soap, more demand.

  I sit astride his lap and unbutton my nightshirt, throwing it away for the second time tonight. He grasps my hips and groans, sliding his hands up and holding my boobs, playing with their heft and smoothing his thumbs over my puckered nipples.

  My face is hot and I have prickly heat everywhere as I lower my chest to his, hovering above his face. He looks so different, not unsure of himself, just exposed and vulnerable.

  Our bodies are flush when I lick under his top lip and ask, “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

  “What did I say?” He’s grinning. It was six hours ago that he said it, but he’s grinning because he does remember.

  “That you love me.”

  He strokes his fingers down my face and tells me, “I’ve always loved you.”

  I gulp and try to hide my eyes, looking down at the length of his body rather than at him. His cock is straining away from his body, a little of pool of precum gathering on his solid, hard stomach.

  “You have?” I ask.

  “I have.”

  “If you’d said that before I left, I would have stayed.”

  I feel my face contorting with all sorts of involuntary reactions but I can’t help it. He takes my chin between finger and thumb and lifts my face to his, kissing my lips again. He’s searching my eyes again, desperate to get inside my head, maybe.