I bit my lip, weighing this new information. Hearing my mother, who was once so bitter and jaded about men after her divorce tell me that she’d do it all over again, was shocking. I didn’t need a Ph.D. in psychology to realize that I’d been hiding behind my parents’ divorce and subsequent falling out as an excuse to avoid commitment in my own life.
It was hard to realize, even though it should have probably set my mind at ease.
“He sounds like a nice guy. I bet Paul would have liked him.” I could hear the smile in her voice.
My heart thudded painfully in my chest, as if to remind me it was still there. “I’ve gotta go, Mom. Thanks for the advice.”
I clicked off the phone and tossed it on my bed.
Maybe I should just come clean with Cohen. But no, I knew I couldn’t do that. Once he learned the real truth about me, he wouldn’t want me anymore. I wouldn’t be able to live up to his ridiculously high expectations. I wasn’t perfect. Not even close.
If he really felt something for me—he’d have to prove it. It might be deceitful to test him this way—to see how far he was willing to go—but I needed this. I need him to show me I was worth risking everything for. To put his money where his mouth was and make me his.
How could I return his sentiment by risking my heart, if he wasn’t willing to risk his body? There was only one solution. I needed to seduce Cohen once and for all, and then I would see where we stood. Now that I’d made this decision, my belly danced with nerves. Could I really go through with this? And everything it might mean?
I had to. I had to know how Cohen really felt about me. And how I would respond to him in turn.
Chapter 15
Despite all the crazy self-talk running through my mind all day, I knew what I needed to do. It was time to put my big girl panties on and deal. The talk with my mom the night before weighed on me. For five years I’d protected my heart like it was my damn job, because I’d seen firsthand how easily it could all be ripped away from you. And though I wasn’t ready to put it all on the line just yet, I knew I needed to open myself up to Cohen more than I had thus far.
I hoisted the brown paper sack I was holding onto my hip as I knocked on his door.
Cohen stood before me, looking solemn in worn jeans, a white T-shirt and bare feet. “Hey, come in.” He pulled the door open wider. “Are you back, Easy E?” His words were full of deeper meaning, and I gave a brief nod.
“With a peace offering.” I held up the bag, filled with cartons of Chinese food and a six-pack of imported beer that I knew was his favorite.
He smiled, a big, genuine grin that showed his perfectly straight white teeth and hit me full force just how gorgeous this man was. “Thank God. I’m tired of sleeping with that damn dog. And with you back, I don’t feel bad kicking him out of my bed.”
I laughed and crossed the threshold to his apartment. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, I didn’t say I was staying the night.” But I knew I would. I’d missed Cohen something fierce. I busied myself in the kitchen, loading up two plates with the Chinese food when he came up behind me and wound his arms around my waist, caging me in against the counter. I felt his warm breath tickle the back of my neck.
“Don’t tease me, Eliza. You come over here, bearing food and beer and offering yourself up to me…don’t expect me to not take what you’re offering.”
What was I offering? Had I really thought this through? What did Cohen think my being here meant, exactly? He brushed his nose along the back of my neck, inhaling my scent. “You don’t understand the effect you have on me,” he whispered.
I swallowed and turned in his arms so I was facing him, and looked up to meet his eyes. Without my heels I felt miniature against him, barely clearing his chin. He lowered his mouth to mine, but he didn’t kiss me right away like I expected.
“Why are you here? What do you want?” he whispered against my lips.
“Everything,” I blurted without thinking.
His mouth claimed mine in a passionate kiss, his lips moving against my own as his tongue swept inside. I eagerly matched his kiss, swirling my tongue with his in a dance that was anything but delicate. He suckled my bottom lip and bit at the soft flesh. The sting of pain was unexpected and hot, and I let out a soft whimper.
He pulled back and met my eyes. “Is that what you need? For me to take control? You need me to be rough?” he breathed, his voice deep and coarse. His large hands framed my face and rather indelicately he forced my chin up, gripping my jaw and neck. “Is that what I need to do to get through to you?”
I squeaked out a response as he knitted his hands underneath my hair and gently pulled so my head tipped back and he could take my mouth again.
I liked this side of Cohen, this strong man I knew was in there the whole time. I liked not having to think for a change, and my brain reveled in the emptiness that followed. I turned over all rational thought and logic to the moment and just felt. Cohen. And everything he had to offer.
I leaned into him, hungry for more contact and loving the feel of the length of his firm body pressed against mine. There was only one way to test how he really felt about me—and, I supposed, how I really felt about him too. I didn’t know why it’d taken me so long to realize what the solution to all this Cohen-obsessing was. He wouldn’t be out of my system until we slept together.
New plan.
I needed to face my fears and make him face his. Was he really willing to make me his? And perhaps more importantly, was I willing to make him mine?