Page 66 of Broken Heart

“How about I sit on the edge of the bathtub?” he suggested.

“Yeah, that would be perfect.”

Cooper sat down, his knees wide. Their position and the size of the bathroom meant that I had no choice but to step forward between them. Cooper’s face was level with my breasts, and for a fleeting moment, I experienced weakness. I imagined being as naked as he was, so he could lean forward and use his mouth on me.

I swallowed hard, blinked my eyes, and attempted to rid my mind of the naughty thoughts as I focused on inspecting Cooper’s cut. I’d quickly decided he didn’t need stitches, but a butterfly bandage would be the best option.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

I dabbed at the cut again and turned around to grab the bandage. While I went about opening that up, I answered, “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

Cooper’s fingertips just barely grazed the skin on the backs of my knees, holding me in place. “You seemed a little flustered.”

The tone of his voice indicated he knew I was struggling with something, even if he didn’t know exactly what had been going through my mind. “I’m perfectly fine,” I croaked, my voice giving me away, as I carefully applied the bandage.

“So, is the flush I see creeping over your skin something you normally experience when tending to wounds?” he questioned me, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin behind my knees delicately.

That simple touch made me want to press my legs together in an effort to relieve the growing ache between them. By some miracle, I held myself back, but it took superhuman effort.

“I can’t say. The truth is, I’ve never met such a bunch of rowdy guys before,” I confessed. “Plus, you’re the only one whose wounds I’ve tended to. I guess I could ask you the same question.”

“What question are you going to ask me?”

I pulled the butterfly bandage taut over the cut, admired my work, and turned my focus to Cooper’s handsome face. Then I asked quietly, “Do you attempt to seduce the women who tend to your injuries by teasing them with your fingertips?”

Cooper’s lips twitched, half of his mouth quirking as his fingers stopped moving and pressed in firmly. “You’re the only one I’ve done this with. You’re the only one who’s ever been this worried about a couple of small cuts.”

The tip of my tongue darted out and moistened my lips. Cooper’s eyes dropped to it, and his gaze darkened as his fingers drifted up slightly to the skin just above the back of my knee. My chest began to rise and fall rapidly, the muscles in my legs tensing.

Cooper knew what he was doing, and it didn’t stop him. His fingertips were barely brushing along my skin, moving at such a languid pace, and there was a glint in his eyes.

“How’s the cut on my face, sweetheart?”

I pressed my lips together, swallowed, and confirmed, “It’s all patched up.”

“It feels better.”

“I’m glad. You don’t have blood pouring down your face any longer, either,” I shared, trying to ignore the tingling between my legs.

Cooper’s hands trailed slightly higher until he stopped moving them, stood, and placed his hands on my hips. His head was bent down in my direction, his face inches from mine, and he stepped forward, backing me up toward the sink. I kept moving backward until, at the last second, Cooper wrapped his arms around me, spun me around, and held me tight to him as his mouth descended upon mine.

The moment his lips touched mine, I moaned. It was too much. I’d been trying not to give in to him just yet, to wait until we got back to my place, before I allowed this to happen.

But how could I resist him now? I didn’t stand a chance.

Now that he’d crossed that line, I wasn’t sure I had the restraint and willpower to withstand his kisses and whatever else he might have wanted to give me, whatever else I might have begged him for.

And when one of his hands drifted down my back and slid toward my hip, bunching up the hem of my dress as his tongue drove into my mouth, I knew I was a goner.

My palms had been pressed firmly against his chest, but as our tongues tangled and dueled, my hands drifted up over his shoulders and into his hair.

That’s when it happened.

I let out a soft moan, and someone said, “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

Like a flash, I tore my mouth from Cooper’s, and he released the hold he had on my dress. We turned our attention to the door. Wyatt was standing there, a knowing look on his face.

“What’s up, Wyatt?” Cooper asked.