I shook my head, smiling. “Who are you?”
He smirked with an eyebrow up. “Your dream guy, all grown up.”
I laughed. “Modest.”
He picked up his drink again. “I don’t know that I would have figured it all out without you leaving. So as much as it hurt, as much as I hated it, I’m glad for it. Because now you’re all mine.”
“It’s true. I think I’ve always been yours.”
His smile could have lit the whole ballroom. “Trust me, Mags — I knew.”
BREATHE
Maggie
IT WAS INSANE TO BE in the room with that many people who I ‘knew’ but who didn’t know me from Adam. But I survived the rest of the night by holding on to Cooper’s arm and smiling my way through the whirlwind, through the questions and the cameras. Through the dinner that cost more than a year’s worth of Manhattan rent and blew my mind. Through the afterparty’s performances and raucous dance party.
But Cooper didn’t leave my side, the beautiful man in the most gorgeous suit I’d ever seen. His smile filled my heart. The look in his eyes told me that everything was exactly as it should be.
We were on the dance floor as a slow song played, swaying to the music, my small hand clutched in his against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. I felt the circle close, from the first night to this one, from an ending that was a beginning to the moment we were in. But this time, we danced without fear or pain. There was no uncertainty. Nothing left unsaid.
There was only love.
He stopped moving, and I looked up at him. His blue eyes burned, and his voice was tight when he whispered, “Come with me, Maggie.”
I couldn’t breathe, only nodded. I would follow him anywhere.
He towed me through the crowd, down the steps of the Met with camera flashes strobing from the paparazzi just beyond the velvet rope. They called his name, asked who I was, shouted questions as we stopped at the curb where Bobby waited for us.
Cooper gave me his hand as I slipped inside, and he climbed in after me. The moment the door closed behind him, we came together, our lips finding each other in the most perfect symmetry.
I was breathless when he broke away, trailing the tip of his nose against the bridge of mine. “All night, I’ve wanted you. All my life, I’ll want you.”
I had no words, though I needed none. When I kissed him, it was like I’d finally come up for air after holding my breath for too long, so long that it hurt. But now I could breathe again.
I don’t know how long it was before the car came to a stop. We barely separated — somehow our hands, our arms, some part of us was touching as we climbed out of the car and thanked Bobby, who looked happy and proud and pleased. We blew inside, across the big gold compass and into the elevator where he pressed me against the wall and kissed me again.
He could kiss me forever and ever and ever.
And then the doors opened, and we were in his apartment, and then, his room. It was almost dark, silent, and we stood in each others arms, still and reverent.
His fingers grazed my jaw and stopped at my chin. He tilted my face to his, watching me for a long moment, his eyes roaming my face before bringing his lips to mine. They were strong, moving slowly, charged with emotion. With every motion, I leaned into him, matching him, breathing him until every breath was ours.
When he broke away, I almost fell into him. He caught me with a smile.
I kicked off my shoes as I ran my hands under his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders. He shrugged it off and tossed it to a chair in the corner as I reached for his tie, slipping it out of the knot, out of his collar, with his hand resting on my forearm and my heart pounding in my chest. My eyes were on my fingers as I unbuttoned his shirt, tugged it out of his pants, touched his hot skin. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him, bending to bury his face in my neck and kiss a trail up to my ear.
“Turn around,” he whispered.
I did as I was told, doing my best to remember to breathe as I waited for his touch. A shock shot down my body when his fingers grazed the back of my neck and skimmed down my bare spine. A shudder rolled through me, and when he reached the zipper, he didn’t hesitate, just pulled it slowly until it stopped.
“Maggie…” The word was a plea.
I looked back over my shoulder to see the emotion in every plane of his face. He stepped into me, pressed his lips to my shoulder, slipped his hands in the back of my open dress, around my naked hips, to my stomach, lower as he palmed me. I arched my back, sighing as I pressed myself into him and slipped the dress off my shoulders. It slid down my body and to the ground in a heap, but he didn’t stop.
He ran his fingers up the length of me as his other hand roamed my stomach and up to my breast. His lips found my neck, his skin on fire against mine. I stepped out of my dress and moved toward the bed, and he followed until I reached the end and bent, propping myself on my forearms.
His hands trailed down my ribs, my waist, my hips, and he knelt between my legs, fingers squeezing tight as he buried his face in me, his tongue hot as he licked up the line. I gasped, rising up on my tiptoes from the shock, and he followed, unrelenting. I dropped to the bed, my cheek against the covers, barely able to keep myself standing as he ravaged me with my pulse racing, fingers twisted in the sheets.
I reached behind me, slipped my fingers into his hair and squeezed, gasping when he pressed harder, deeper into me. But it wasn’t enough.
I tightened my grip in his hair, pulled his head back and called his name. He let me go, stripping off his shirt when he stood, then his pants as I lay panting. And then I felt his touch, his fingers on the backs of my thighs. He cupped them and urged me to climb onto the bed.
“I want to see your face, your eyes,” he said, his voice rough as he guided me to roll over, my breath shallow as I stretched out on my back as he asked. He climbed up my body until he was hovering over me. My legs hooked around his thighs, feet tucked in the curve of his calf as he brought his hips lower and grabbed his length. He guided his tip to rest against me, and a moan passed my lips, my hips shifting to try to force him in, body aching for him.
He gripped my hip to still me, flexed slowly, and we both watched him disappear inside of me.
I sighed, and his eyes found mine as he pulled out and rocked into me, rolling his hips. Then again. And again, and again, strong and smooth, claiming and promising. He was everywhere — the weight of him against me, his hands in my hair, his lips against mine, his voice breathing my name, telling me he loved me, telling me he needed me.
And I needed him. I would always need him.
My heart beat faster, my breath shallow until I let my body go. Let my past go. Gave my heart to him as I gave him the rest of me, his name on my lips as I flexed around him fast at first, then slower until I could finally breathe again.
When I opened my eyes, they found his.
“I love you,” I whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed, his body rolling in a wave, every breath deeper than the one before until he slammed into me, neck taut, a cry passing his lips as he came.
He rested his forehead against mine, hips still flexing slowly as he pulsed inside of me. I laid a hand on his chest, feeling the solid thump of his heart as he strung delicate kisses on my neck, my cheeks, my lips. And then he filled me to the hilt and propped himself up to look at me. His beautiful face was soft, and I took a long moment to memorize the shadows of his cheekbones, the swell of his lips, the cut of his jaw, the love in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” They were words I couldn’t say enough.