Cole: The Wounded Sons, Leah Sharelle [the reading list .TXT] 📗

actually she was petite but stacked with curves in all the right places—a tiny blonde tornado. She oozed fun, laughed all the time, and had the worst case of spewing inappropriate things at the worst possible times.

I fucking loved her.

“No, wench, I was not thinking about Cole.” This time, I added silently. “I was thinking about today at the book store and how relieved I was it wasn’t a big signing.”

Thayer leaned back in her seat, her beer untouched in front of her. Thayer wasn’t a big drinker, truth be told, neither was I, but she loved the excitement a pub offered and frequented them often.

“So you weren’t thinking about what his tally-whacker felt like in your waffle cone?”

Anyone else would have choked on their spit and run for the hills, but not me. It took a few months after meeting her to get used to what came from her mouth, but I did.

Thank god.

Scooping some foam off my beer on my fingers, I flicked them at Thayer, laughing when it landed right on her boob.

“You are so immature, waffle cone? Really, Thayer. You are allowed to use the actual words you know.” Rolling my eyes at her.

Stalling tactic? You bet! The last thing I wanted to discuss was my night with Cole Stephens. It was painfully obvious my performance in bed had not made a dent in his mind, jolted a memory, or rated a simple, ‘hey, thanks for the fuck’. Drunk or not, Cole had no interest in remembering that night with me, his absence the last five days proved that.

“I can’t wait to have sex,” Thayer announced suddenly, her face taking on a dreamy quality. I knew that look; Thayer was about to start on one of her rants, not only about sex and wanting it, but her perfected description of how.

“I know exactly how it is going to go,” Thayer declared, taking a gulp of her beer.

And … here we go!

“I’m waiting for the perfect man to sweep me off my feet and claim me. I want him to look at me like I’m the only person in existence for him, that I am that one person he needs to breathe, his reason to get up in the morning. His whole life will revolve around me, and his devotion to me will have no limits. There will be nothing he will deny me. His kisses will take my breath away make me tremble from the inside out, and then he will rip my clothes off and—”

“Fuck my brains out!” I shouted, finishing her sentence for her; it was one I knew only too well.

“If that’s what you want, then I am more than willing to oblige, Temptress,” a deep, throaty, sexy as sin voice said from behind me, making me tingle all over.

Oh my pulsing pussy, I know that voice. My pulsing pussy knows that voice.

My eyes widened at Thayer, who was literally fanning herself with one hand while she held her icy cold glass at her skin between the V of her tee-shirt, her eyes on the man behind me.

Oh, for the love of god!

For days I have dreamed of the man that voice belonged to, prayed for an explanation for his ghosting me. Now, he was behind me, more or less offering his dick to me.

Pig.

Mentally engaging in a fight with my girlie bits, I forced the fever growing deep in my core to extinguish or smoulder enough so I could gather my wits.

How dare he! What kind of woman does he think I am!

Feeding off my annoyance not only at Cole’s temerity but at my bestie openly gawking at the object of my affection.

Do not call him that Oaklee, he rocked your world then shattered it hours later. Remember that when you turn around to give him a good old tongue lashing.

Confident with my internal pep talk, I lowered my drink, pried my fingers from the glass, and slowly turned in my seat, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

“You can take that offer and stick it—” The threat died on my tongue when Cole came into my view, and what a view it was.

Dressed in tight black jeans and equally tight black tee-shirt, his aviator sunglasses hooked over the neck of his shirt, and somehow even that looked sexy on him. I couldn’t stop my eyes from travelling down his thick, muscled thighs down to his black, lace-up boots.

Everything he wore was black, his hair and his inky black eyes.

What a hunk of ever-loving spunk.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Cole looked smug and very happy with himself as he raised his brows at me.

“Where would you like me to stick it, Temptress?”

The sexual innuendo making me blush and nearly derailing my train of thought. Lucky for me, Thayer chose that moment to spit out her mouthful of beer in a burst of laughter, the liquid spraying all over my arm.

“Hopefully not her arse, unless you do that first, then wash your dick before putting it in her vagina.” Thayer’s totally inappropriate comment bringing a belly laugh from Cole and a few shocked gasps from some of the patrons close enough to hear.

“Thayer!” My indignant cry grabbing the attention of several people around us and one waitress who came running over to the table with a cloth.

“Oh dear, can I get you another drink?” the pretty girl asked, hastily wiping at my arm.

“No, no, no, it’s—”

“Three more thanks, Kelly,” Cole interrupted me, winking at the waitress, then stalked forward and took the seat next to mine, his legs bumping mine under the table, causing a slew of goosebumps to form on my skin.

“Oh hey, Cole.” Kelly, the waitress, smiled at Cole like he was nothing more than another patron in the Bar and Grill and not the hottest man on the planet.

Kelly finished brushing me off, then stood up and took the glasses from the table and placed them on a tray she pulled from