She let out a giggle. “Just a little.”
“Christ, Savannah.” He stood, and pulled her panties up her legs. This sooo should not have happened. Cole stepped away from her on shaky legs and adjusted the huge erection tugging against his zipper. Her wide eyes followed his movements. A twinge of disappointment colored her features, but Cole ignored it. He stalked out to the kitchen and found a bottle of vodka and the orange juice sitting on the island. Savannah had broken into his liquor cabinet like a damn rebellious teenager. Is this what her therapist had warned him about? She’d gotten drunk, and apparently horny, and he’d fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.
With the scent of her still clinging to his lips and fingers, Cole fled to the master bathroom. He dragged his jeans down just enough to free his erection and pumped a squirt of hand lotion into his palm. He rubbed it against his cock, pumping and thrusting his hips in time to match his hand’s frenzied movements. Only a few strokes later, he came with a breathy moan, emptying himself into the palm of his other hand.
After washing up, he returned to his bedroom and found Savannah sitting in the center of his bed.
Their eyes locked on each other’s, and he read hers for signs that she regretted what they’d done moments ago, but found none.
“It smells like her in here.” Savannah wrinkled her nose.
Cole began working to change the sheets and pillow cases. If she wasn’t going to bring up what he’d just done to her, neither was he. He gathered a clean set of sheets and tossed them on the mattress. He wouldn’t make Savannah sleep where he’d just bed another woman, but he also wouldn’t turn her away now. She’d been too vulnerable, let her guard down with him completely. And if this is where she wanted to be, he wouldn’t deny her. Couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Cole?” Her voice had a pleading quality, like she needed reassurance about where they now stood.
“Get in bed, Savannah.”
She turned for the door. His hand on her elbow stopped her. “No, in my bed. With me.”
She smiled and crawled in beside him, laying her head on his chest once they were settled in the darkness.
“I don’t want you drinking, Savannah.”
“I, I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad at you.” Mad at himself was more like it. He shouldn’t have touched her. But now that he had, he wanted nothing more than to do it again and again. “Are you still drunk?”
“I’m not drunk. I only had a little bit while I waited for you to get home. I just wanted to see what it was like.”
He couldn’t be upset with Savannah. He’d left her alone tonight to go out with another woman. Savannah had gotten bored. She’d done what a lot of nineteen-almost-twenty-year-olds did on the weekends.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked, needing some indication of what was going on inside her head.
“Fine.”
“Just fine?” He smirked, turning to look at her.
She smiled against his skin, then yawned. “I’m sleepy. You stayed out late.”
He didn’t point out that she was most likely drained from the combination of the alcohol and the powerful orgasm he’d given her, rather than the late hour. “Was that okay, what happened in your room?”
“Yes. It’s just…”
“Just what?” he prompted, his heart kicking up speed. He didn’t want to hear her say she regretted it. He sure as hell didn’t.
“You didn’t kiss me. And you didn’t let me touch you.”
“You wanted that?”
She nodded, her face still turned down.
“Are you a virgin?” he whispered.
The muscles in her back tensed, and his hand stilled against her skin.
“Yes.”
Relief flooded his system. “Good. You’re going to stay that way.”
“But Cole…”
“No. Don’t say anything else right now. We’re not talking about that. Especially not when you’ve been drinking.”
She let out a deep sigh. “Can I just say one thing?”
He clenched his fist at his side, knowing it’d be futile to refuse her request. “One.”
She took a deep breath as if preparing to give a speech. “When I’m with Dr. White, or Marissa, they see me as a normal girl, with normal wants and needs — to be loved, to have physical affection—but sometimes I don’t think you see me like that. You still look at me like I’m the scared, crying girl you pulled out of that compound. I just want you to know — I want more.”
He took a second to let her words sink in. It had only been a few weeks. Did she really know what she wanted? Was she even capable of more right now? He didn’t want to think about her dating. In fact, the idea scared the shit out of him. But she was a bright, pretty girl. He couldn’t just keep her hidden away, no matter how much he might want to. Perhaps the alcohol had loosened her tongue some, but it was true, she didn’t sound drunk. Not at all. She sounded confident and sure. “That’s good Savannah. I want you to have those things too. You deserve all of that and more.” But he knew he was not the man for her. He could come up with a list of a thousand reasons why: he was too old for her; she needed more time to heal; he was married to his job; he wasn’t looking for a relationship; and the list went on and on. But tell that to his body. He wanted her, even though he knew it was impossible.