Unspoken Business Between Cole and Avery

Chapter 1

The stale, recycled air of the business class cabin hummed around Cole. He stared blankly at the seatback screen, seeing none of the film playing. His mind was a thousand miles away, trapped in the dim, oil-scented garage of Trusting Auto. The memory was tactile: the cool concrete floor under his knees, the sharp scent of gasoline and perfume, the electric sight of Avery bathed in the ghostly glow of a mechanic’s lamp.

**First time.** A blur of strobe lights and bass from a nightclub. Her laughter, sharp and bright, cutting through the haze of expensive whiskey. Red hair like a lick of flame against his black shirt. In the back of his Uber, her mouth had been both demanding and sweet, a chaotic, delicious contradiction. They’d stumbled into her silent house, a tangle of limbs and frantic whispers, parting at dawn with nothing but the memory of heat.

**Second time.** Leo’s Halloween party. Cole, feeling the familiar, magnetic pull toward her across the crowded room. She was dressed as some kind of rogue mechanic, grease-paint artfully smudged on her cheek, her costume jeans ripped at the knees. He’d cornered her by the snack table, a joke dying on his lips when a tiny Spider-Man had barreled into her legs, yelling, “Mama!” The world had tilted. *A mother.* The knowledge had sent a shocking, possessive thrill through him. Later, in Leo’s darkened guest room, the sounds of the party muffled, he’d pinned her against the door, his mouth exploring the intricate linework of a tattoo on her shoulder, his movements charged with a new, reckless intensity. *Maya, a mom.*

**Third time.** The most forbidden. The sky was still dark, pre-dawn. He’d let himself in with the code she’d hissed at him weeks before, moving through her living room like a shadow, past tiny sneakers and a discarded toy truck. In her bedroom, he’d found her awake, waiting. No words. Just the slow, deep, almost silent coupling as her son slept soundly in the next room. A raw, primal claim staked in the quiet heart of her domain. He’d left for the airport with the taste of her skin on his tongue.

Next to him, Leo snored softly, utterly oblivious to the storm that had been raging between his business partner and his sister for a year. Three encounters. Three fractures in their carefully constructed wall.

Cole’s phone vibrated silently in his hand. A text from Maya, sent an hour ago.

> **Maya:** Change of plans. Leo heard Leo’s voice and is now insisting on going with him tonight. Full meltdown. I’m sorry. I know you heard everything.

A slow smile touched Cole’s lips. He could picture the scene: her serious, focused face softening into exasperated surrender for her son. The dominant shop owner brought to her knees by a three-year-old’s will.

His thumbs moved over the screen, the rules they’d set—*no check-ins, it ends whenever*—crumbling like ash.

> **Cole:** Don’t apologize. A free night just means I can take my time. I’ve been thinking about that scar on your hip for a month. The one you said you got from a torque wrench. I want to trace it with my tongue until you forget how you got it.

He hit send. The transgression was a dark, sweet curl of smoke in his chest. He’d broken the rule. But then, so had she. Her texts during the trip had started about a part for Leo’s car and dissolved into fragments of breathtaking honesty about missing the weight of a hand on her throat, the stretch of her body, the silent understanding in the dark.

The plane began its descent. Cole watched the city lights sparkle below, a grid of possibilities. The obstacle was gone. The tension, however, had just been wound impossibly tighter. He was no longer flying back to a secret. He was flying back to a reckoning.

---

Chapter 2

The jet’s wheels screeched against the tarmac, jerking Cole from the memory-taste of Maya’s skin. Beside him, Leo stirred, blinking as he fumbled for his phone.

“Gotta call Hails,” Leo mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He hit dial, putting it on speaker as he stretched.

The ringtone cut through Cole’s thoughts. Then her voice, crisp and clear, filled the space between their seats. “Hey. You on the ground?”

“Just landed. Still good for me to grab the monster tonight?”

Cole stared straight ahead, every sense honed on that voice.

“Yeah, about that.” A soft sigh traveled through the speaker. Cole could picture her running a hand through her red hair. “He heard your voice on the message I played earlier. Full-scale negotiation is underway. The terms are: he goes with Uncle Leo *now*, and he gets extra goldfish crackers. I’m capitulating.”

Leo laughed. “Classic Leo. I’ll be there in forty.”

“Okay. Drive safe.”

The call ended. The cabin was filled with the murmur of disembarking passengers, but Cole heard only the echo of her words. He felt the shift in the air between them, transmitted through a thousand miles of digital silence.

***

In her quiet house, Maya set her phone down on the kitchen counter. The sound of Leo’s laugh had done something dangerous—it had unlocked a memory vault.

*The nightclub.* Her back against the cold Uber window, Cole’s mouth hot and whiskey-sweet on hers.
*The Halloween party.* His hands, large and possessive, spanning her waist as she whispered *shhh*, her son’s innocent costume just a room away.
*The dawn.* Him moving inside her with a ruthless, silent rhythm as Leo slept, untouched and pure, in the next room.

A shudder ran through her core.

She moved to Leo’s room to get him ready, her fingers mechanically buttoning his tiny flannel shirt while her mind unraveled.

*He broke the rule,* she thought, zipping up Leo’s little backpack. *He texted first during the trip.* The memory of his last message—*I want to trace it with my tongue until you forget how you got it*—flooded her system with liquid heat.

As she knelt to tie Leo’s sneakers, a fantasy hijacked her completely. Not a memory this time—a projection. She saw Cole here, in this hallway. Saw herself turning from Leo’s door and walking straight into his chest. No hello. Just his hand fisting in her hair, angling her mouth up for a punishing kiss while his other hand slid under her sweatshirt, finding no bra, his thumb circling a nipple until she gasped into his mouth.

“Mama? You okay?” Leo’s small voice pierced through.

She blinked, coming back to the soft light of his bedroom. “Yeah, baby,” she breathed out, voice unsteady. “Just… thinking about work.”

But she wasn’t thinking about work at all.

***

In the cab from the airport, Cole gave an address downtown first, not hers.
“Quick stop,” he told the driver.

He knew he shouldn’t. It was another rule bent to breaking point—no gestures outside their stolen hours.
But he couldn't help it.
He ducked into a corner store and bought two things: a bottle of cold-brew coffee (the specific brand she liked after a long shift) and a small bag of sour peach candies he once saw her sneak from her desk drawer.
It wasn't much.
It was everything.
A claim in paper and sugar.
He got back in the cab, heart hammering against his ribs with a strange new rhythm.
***
Leo's truck was just pulling away from Maya's curb when Cole's cab rounded the corner.
Cole waited until the taillights vanished before paying the driver and stepping out onto the quiet street.
His duffel was slung over one shoulder; in his other hand hung the simple plastic bag of offerings.
He didn't text.
He just walked up to her front door and knocked—three firm taps that echoed in the evening stillness.
From inside came no sound for three long heartbeats.
Then quiet footsteps approached before abruptly stopping right on the other side of the wooden door.

"It's open," Maya's voice finally came through—a low thrum he felt in his bones.

Cole turned the knob and pushed inside quickly to find himself standing inches away from her in her dim hallway where not thirty minutes earlier Leo had stood excitedly waiting for uncle Leo . The air smelled faintly like toddler shampoo but underneath that existed only electric static awareness between them now filling entire space between them
Her green eyes were wide as they took him in then dropped down quickly noticing bag dangling at side "What's that?" she asked quietly

"A peace offering," Cole said setting duffel down slowly but keeping hold plastic bag letting swing slightly between them "You sounded like you had day"

Maya stared at bag then back up meeting gaze again something flickering across face—disbelief maybe awe maybe both mixed together because all this felt surreal

"You switched plans so easily," she murmured shaking head slightly more talking herself than him "I've seen you negotiate contracts you don't bend like this ever"

Cole stepped closer crowding space now so could smell scent oil still clinging skin beneath fresh shower smell "That's business," he replied voice dropping rough gravel tone that made breath catch visibly "This isn't"

He watched throat work swallow watched pupils dilate watched moment surrender begin before even touched

"Show me," Maya whispered demand edged desperate curiosity laced undercurrent need so palpable could taste air metallic anticipation surrounding them both now thicker than smoke

---

Chapter 3

Maya’s hands shook as they fumbled with the first button of Cole’s shirt. Her eyes were locked on his, the air thick with unsaid words and a year of pent-up hunger. The hard ridge of his cock pressed against his fly, a blatant answer to the wet heat already pooling between her legs.

“I’ve thought about nothing else,” she breathed, her voice husky. The second button came undone, revealing a slash of taut stomach and the dark trail of hair leading lower.

Cole’s hands came up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “Just this,” he murmured, leaning down. “Just you.”

His lips were a breath away from hers when the violent buzz of her phone on the hallway table shattered the moment. They froze. It buzzed again, insistent.

“Don’t,” Cole growled, his forehead touching hers.

“It could be Leo. About Leo.” She pulled away, her movement jerky with frustration, and snatched the phone.

The text glowed on the screen.

> **Leo:** Turnin’ around. Forgot Mr. Waddles. Leo’s having a full-blown crisis back here. Be there in 2 mins.

“Fuck,” Maya hissed, the word sharp and panicked. “He’s coming back. Now.”

The shift was instantaneous. The sexual tension twisted into frantic, shared adrenaline. Cole’s expression hardened into focused efficiency. “What do I do?”

“Bathroom. Down the hall, last door. Go. Now.” She was already shoving his duffel bag toward him with her foot while scanning the entryway for any sign of him—the plastic bag from the store still dangled from his hand. “Take that!”

He moved silently, a large shadow disappearing down the darkened hallway just as headlights washed across the front window.

Maya smoothed her hair, took a deep breath that did nothing to calm her racing heart, and opened the door as Leo’s truck rolled to a stop. Leo was in his arms, tear-streaked and clutching a blankie.

“The betrayal, Hails,” Leo said, his tone light but his eyes concerned for his nephew. “You said you packed him.”

“I thought I did! I’m sorry, buddy,” she said, reaching for Leo, who willingly slumped into her arms, his crisis already abating now that rescue was imminent.

“The drive’ll help him sleep,” Leo said, leaning in to kiss Leo’s head. “You okay? You look… flushed.”

“Just ran to get the door,” she lied, her skin burning under his brotherly scrutiny. She watched, heart hammering, as Leo spotted Mr. Waddles on the couch, snatched him, and gave a little salute.

“We’re out. Get some rest.”

The door closed. The taillights receded. Maya stood rooted, listening until the sound of the engine faded completely. Then she slumped against the door, a shaky laugh escaping her.

Cole emerged from the hallway, his shirt still hanging open. The hunger was back in his eyes, but it was edged with something darker, sharper, forged in the close call.

“He’s gone?” Cole’s voice was a low rumble.

“He’s gone.”

He crossed the space in two strides, his hands framing her face again, but this time there was no tenderness, only raw possession. “That,” he said against her mouth, “was the longest two minutes of my life.”

His kiss was a demand, all heat and punishing pressure. She kissed him back with equal ferocity, her fingers digging into his shoulders. They stumbled backward, a tangled mess of limbs, until her knees hit the edge of the couch.

“No,” Cole growled, pulling back. “Not here. Where’s your room?”

Wordlessly, she took his hand and led him down the hall, past Leo’s silent, empty room. In her bedroom, the faint glow from a streetlight filtered through the blinds. He didn’t wait. He turned her to face the bed, his hands firm on her hips.

“Doggy,” he commanded, the word leaving no room for debate. It was a reclaiming, an assertion of control after the interruption.

Maya braced her hands on the mattress, pushing her ass back toward him. She heard the rustle of his jeans, the tear of a foil packet, and then the blunt, hot press of his cock against her entrance. He entered her with one smooth, deep thrust that stole her breath. “God, Cole…”

“No talking,” he ordered, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as he set a ruthless, driving rhythm. Each thrust jolted through her, a perfect, stretching friction that coiled the tension tighter and tighter. She pushed back against him, meeting every plunge, the sounds of their joining wet and obscenely loud in the quiet room. The dominant shop owner was gone, reduced to a writhing, pleading thing under his hands. “Please… I’m close…”

He fucked her harder, faster, his rhythm losing its precision. With a guttural groan, his hips stuttered and he drove into her one last, searing time, his release pulsing deep inside her. He collapsed over her back, his breath hot on her neck.

After a moment, he pulled out and turned her onto her back. His eyes were wild, unsatisfied. “My turn,” he said, voice ragged. He pushed her thighs apart, settling his weight between them.

Missionary. Face to face. He entered her again, slower now, filled with a different kind of intensity. He watched every flicker of pleasure on her face as he moved, his pace deep and grinding. “Look at me,” he breathed, and she did, her green eyes wide and vulnerable. He kissed her, swallowing her moans as the friction built again, a new, brighter peak cresting. She shattered around him, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically, and he followed her over the edge with a broken sigh, spilling into her a second time.

They lay tangled, slick and spent, for long minutes. Finally, Cole shifted, pulling out. He fetched his phone from his discarded jeans. “I’m ordering food. You need to eat.”

While he tapped on his screen, Maya’s gaze drifted to the plastic bag from the store, now lying forgotten on her dresser. Curiosity sparked. She padded over, naked, and peeked inside.

The cold brew coffee. The bag of sour peach candies.

Her breath caught. She turned, holding up the candy bag, her eyes suddenly bright. “You remembered these?”

Cole looked up from his phone, a softness breaking through his dominant facade. “Saw you sneaking them once. It’s not much.”

“It’s everything,” she whispered, the simple gesture unraveling her completely. She walked back to the bed, crawled over him, and kissed him, deep and slow and full of a truth they could no longer ignore. The rules were ashes. This was something else.

---

Chapter 4

The sticky humid heat of their bodies cooled in the dim bedroom air. Cole’s phone buzzed once—the delivery notification. He shifted, disentangling himself from Maya’s limbs, and sat up on the edge of the bed. His broad back was a landscape of muscle and fading sweat.

“Food’s fifteen minutes away,” he said, his voice roughened by exertion.

Maya propped herself up on an elbow, watching him. The predatory focus was gone from his eyes, replaced by a lazy, satisfied calm. “You’re really horny for someone who’s been gone a month,” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

Cole looked over at her, a slow grin spreading. “I’ve had my hand,” he said simply, his gaze holding hers. “I haven’t wanted anyone else.”

The admission, so blunt and unadorned, stole the breath from her next quip. The silence between them thickened, charged with something more dangerous than lust.

“Yeah?” she murmured, pushing herself up to sit beside him. “What about me?”

He turned fully toward her, his knee brushing hers. “What about you?”

She looked down at her own hands, then back up, a challenge in her green eyes. “My toys,” she confessed. “Just my toys. Nothing else.”

Cole’s expression shifted. The lazy calm sharpened into intense interest. He leaned closer. “Tell me.”

Maya felt a flush creep up her neck. “It’s not a big deal. A vibrator. Sometimes, when the house is too quiet…” She trailed off, but his attention was absolute, pulling the words from her. “I’d think about that night in the garage. The concrete. Your hands. And I’d… use it.”

“Where?” he asked, his voice low.

“Where do you think?” she countered, her own voice gaining strength.

Cole’s hand came up, not to touch her, but to gesture toward her body. “Here?” he asked, pointing to her own core. “Or here?” His finger moved to trace the air near her lips.

Maya swallowed. “Both,” she whispered.

A slow, dark smile touched his mouth. He didn’t speak again, but the look was a promise—a vow to replace every memory of silicone with the reality of his own skin.

The buzzer for the front gate sounded, jarringly loud. Cole stood, pulling on his discarded jeans without buttoning them. He fetched the food from the doorstep—a simple bag of burgers and fries—and brought it back to the bedroom. They ate on the floor, leaning against the bed, the greasy paper spread between them.

“You broke the rules,” Maya said suddenly, around a bite of fry. “You texted first. You checked in.” She stared at him. “Why?”

Cole finished his burger, wiping his hands slowly. He looked at her, all the playful darkness gone, replaced by a stark, unsettling honesty. “Because I knew you were breaking them too,” he said. “Those messages you sent… they weren’t about spark plugs, Maya.”

She felt exposed, as if he’d peeled back a layer of her skin.

“And,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower, “because I knew this was never just fun. You know it too. That’s why you made the rules. To pretend it could be.”

Maya set her food down. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The truth of it, spoken aloud in her quiet bedroom, was terrifying. “We can’t be,” she said, the words barely a breath. “You know we can’t.”

Cole moved then. He didn’t argue. He simply closed the distance between them, his hands framing her face, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was not passionate, but profound. It was an answer. When he pulled back, his eyes held hers. “I know what we can’t be,” he murmured. “Let me show you what we are.”

He didn’t wait for her agreement. He guided her back onto the floor, the food forgotten. His mouth traveled down her body, not with frantic hunger, but with deliberate reverence. When he reached her core, he used not just his tongue, but his words, whispering against her skin how he’d imagined her here, alone, thinking of him. His touch was both claiming and worshiping, driving her to a peak that was slower, deeper, more devastating than before.

When she cried out, her release was a quiet, trembling surrender. He rose over her then, entering her again, their join now a slow, grinding rhythm of connection. He watched her face, every flicker of feeling, as he moved within her. This was the culmination—not of a fuck, but of a year of silent, stolen desire.

His own finish was a deep, shuddering groan, his body collapsing onto hers, his weight a warm, anchoring reality. For a long moment, there was only the sound of their mingled breaths in the dark room.

Then, his hand rose, stroking her hair back from her damp forehead. “This,” he whispered against her skin. “This is what we are.”

They lay there, on the floor, the empty food wrappers beside them, the truth hanging in the air between their bodies. The rules were gone. All that remained was the undeniable fact of what they had become to each other.

---

Chapter 5

Maya moved atop him, a slow, grinding rhythm that made Cole’s vision blur. Her red hair was a tangled curtain around her shoulders, her full lips parted on silent, panting breaths. His hands gripped her hips, guiding the deep, circling motion of her body taking his cock.

“Since Leo isn’t here,” Cole growled, his voice strained, “I’m staying the night.”

Her rhythm hitched. “You can’t.” She leaned forward, her palms splayed on his chest, her breasts swaying tantalizingly close to his mouth. “I don’t know when Leo’s bringing him back for daycare. It could be early.”

“Fuck daycare,” he breathed, bucking his hips up to meet her downward plunge, making her gasp. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her nipples. “I’m not leaving this bed.”

As if summoned by the mention of her brother, a sharp double buzz erupted from their phones on the nightstand. Maya froze, her inner muscles clamping around him. Cole groaned at the sensation.

“Ignore it,” he commanded.

“It’s the group text,” she whispered, her body still trembling with the interruption.

With a frustrated growl, Cole reached a long arm out, snagging his phone. He held it up so they could both see the screen.

> **Leo:** @Maya can you stop by the shop in the morning? Joe’s guy bailed on the brake job for the F-150. If you can do it, can you just pick up the truck from my place? @Cole if she says yes, can you give her a ride? If you’re both in, meet at Marty’s Diner for breakfast @ 9:30.

Cole felt Maya’s body soften, a silent acquiescence. Her thumb darted out, tapping a quick reply.

> **Maya:** Yes. I’ll do it.

She dropped the phone and looked down at him, her green eyes dark with challenge. “Your turn.”

A wicked grin spread across Cole’s face. He loved watching her like this—the bounce of her tits with every movement, the flush on her skin, the power in her thighs as she rode him. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he began to type, his hips pistoning up into her with deliberate, punctuating thrusts.

“Invite,” he thrust, “me,” another deep plunge, “first,” his breath hitching as her heat clenched around him, “or I’ll say I can’t do it.” Maya grins as she feels each punishing thrust and chokes out "Cole." "Will." "You?

He hit send just as he drove up into her one final, searing time.

> **Cole:** I’ll pick Maya up at 9:15.

He tossed the phone aside and grabbed her hips with renewed ferocity, his control snapping. He flipped them over in one powerful motion, pressing her into the mattress. He surged back into her wet heat, setting a brutal, possessive pace.

“With each thrust,” he grunted, his body slamming into hers, “again,” the headboard knocking against the wall, “I’m,” his voice dropped to a ragged whisper against her ear, “staying the night.”

His declaration was the final trigger. The coil of pleasure in Maya’s core snapped. She cried out, a raw, broken sound as her orgasm ripped through her, her body arching off the bed. The intense clenching of her pussy around his cock was too much. Cole buried his face in her neck, his own release tearing from him with a guttural roar. He pulsed deep inside her, his hips stuttering through the waves of his climax until he collapsed, spent and heavy, atop her.

They lay tangled, slick and panting, for long minutes. Cole finally shifted his weight, but didn’t pull away. He brushed the damp hair from her forehead.

“I’m staying,” he murmured again, this time a soft, unshakeable fact.

Outside, the night was silent and deep, holding them in their new, rule-less reality.

---

Chapter 6

The heavy, satisfied silence of the bedroom was broken only by their slowing breaths. Cole shifted, his spent cock slipping from her warmth with a soft, wet sound. He didn’t pull away to his side of the bed as the rules dictated. Instead, he gathered Maya against him, her back to his chest, his arm a solid band across her waist.

“I’ve been thinking,” he murmured into her hair, his voice a low rumble against her spine. “About moving back. For good.”

Maya’s body tensed slightly. *His move back.* The words sent a familiar, thrilling shock through her system, followed immediately by a cold wash of reality. She kept her voice light, teasing. “Well, if you’re local, I guess we could mess around a lot more often. Sneak in some lunch breaks at the shop.”

Cole’s arm tightened. “That’s not what I mean, Maya.”

*Then what does he mean?* Her mind raced. They’d broken the physical rules, but the world’s rules were still ironclad. She rolled in his arms to face him, the sheets tangling between them. In the faint moonlight, his expression was serious, stripped of its usual playful arrogance.

“Cole,” she said, her tone shifting to the one she used when explaining a complex repair. “You’re my brother’s best friend. His business partner. You’re practically my boss—McCullen Racing is my biggest client. I’m your top mechanic.” She took a shaky breath. “You’re Cole. Bachelor. World traveler. And I’m a single mom with a three-year-old and a mountain of responsibility. We’ve been… this… for what, a handful of times over a year? What are you saying?”

He cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I’m saying the ‘this’ is the only thing that’s felt real to me in a year. I’m saying when I picture coming home, I’m not picturing my empty condo. I’m picturing you. And Leo’s tiny sneakers in the hall.”

Maya’s breath hitched. The raw honesty in his words was more terrifying than any forbidden touch. It was a door swinging open onto a future she’d never allowed herself to imagine. “I don’t know how to take that,” she whispered, her voice thick.

“Then don’t take it. Just feel it,” he said, and his mouth found hers in a kiss that was utterly different from their earlier frenzy. It was deep, claiming, yet tender—a physical reassurance. He was telling her without words.

She resisted for a moment, the panic of potential loss tightening her muscles. But as his hands began to move over her body with a worshipping slowness, tracing the scar on her hip, the curve of her waist, her resistance melted into a soft sigh. He made love to her then, a slow, relentless building of connection that had her crying out into his shoulder, her body pulsing around his in a climax that felt less like a release and more like a surrender. He followed her, his groan a vibration against her skin, spilling his warmth deep inside her. Exhausted, sated, and emotionally spent, Maya fell asleep wrapped in him, her head on his chest.

***

The nightmare came, as it sometimes did—a jumble of screeching metal, flashing lights, and helpless terror. She threw an arm out, a frantic defense against phantom dangers.

*Crack.*

Pain exploded across Cole’s face. He jolted awake, a coppery taste flooding his mouth. Maya was already sitting up, her eyes wide with horror in the dark.

“Oh my God. Cole? *Cole!*” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Your nose. You’re bleeding. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She scrambled out of bed, her voice shaking. “I’ll get a towel. I… you should go. I’m so sorry.”

He caught her wrist, gentle but firm. “Hey. Look at me. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! I *hit* you.” She returned with a damp cloth, her hands trembling as she pressed it to his face. She looked devastated.

He took the cloth from her, holding it himself. A faint, bloody smirk touched his lips. “Damn, Trusting. You pack a punch. Remind me never to piss you off with a wrench around.”

“Don’t joke,” she pleaded, tears welling. “I’m a mess.”

He pulled her back down beside him, ignoring the throb in his nose. “You never said anything about nightmares.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I didn’t have to. The ‘no sleepovers’ rule… it wasn’t just for Leo.”

The quiet admission shattered him. He wrapped her up, tucking her head under his chin. “Let’s just cuddle and sleep. It’s just a bloody nose.”

Maya curled into him, feeling utterly horrible, yet held together by his unwavering calm. They slept, deeply, until gray morning light filtered through the blinds.

Cole woke first, the scent of her shampoo lingering on his skin. He slipped from the bed, heading for the shower. The hot water was just beginning to steam up the glass when the door opened.

Maya stood there, naked, her expression a mix of apology and fierce determination. Without a word, she stepped inside, the water sluicing over her red hair and down her body. She dropped to her knees before him.

“Maya, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she said, her voice husky. She took his softening cock in her hand, her mouth already seeking him. Her tongue was a slow, wet promise, licking up the length before she took him fully into the heat of her mouth. She worked him with a focused intensity, her hands gripping his thighs, her eyes closed in devotion. It was an act of atonement, of connection, of claiming him back. He tangled his hands in her wet hair, a groan echoing off the tiles as she brought him, with relentless skill, to a hard, shuddering climax, swallowing every last pulse of his release.

---

Chapter 7

The hot water sluiced over them as Maya knelt on the hard tile. Her mouth was a slick, tight haven of atonement, and Cole surrendered to it completely. He gripped her wet hair, his hips giving shallow, involuntary thrusts as the pressure coiled at the base of his spine. “Fuck, Maya,” he groaned, the curse raw in the steamy air.

His release hit him in a deep, rolling wave. He pulsed hard into the heat of her throat, a low, guttural sound escaping him as he spent himself. She swallowed every thick pulse, her hands clutching his thighs until the last shudder passed through him.

Breathless, he pulled her up, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that tasted of salt and her. “My turn,” he murmured, his voice rough. He turned her, bracing her hands against the cool tile. He knelt behind her, his tongue finding her slick folds from behind, laving and delving with a focused intensity that made her cry out. He brought her to a trembling, quiet peak, her body bowing under the relentless stroke of his tongue.

They were drying off, the air charged with a new, fragile intimacy, when Maya’s phone buzzed on the counter. Leo’s name flashed. She answered, her voice miraculously cool and even. Cole watched, mesmerized, as she casually walked into the bedroom, completely naked.

“Hey,” she said. “Yeah, just finishing up a few things at the shop.” Cole followed, a wicked smile touching his lips as he came up behind her, his hands sliding around her waist. He pressed his hardening length against her backside. “Cole just got here to pick me up,” she continued, not a single hitch in her tone. She arched back into him subtly as his fingers dipped between her legs from behind. “We’ll head to the diner now.”

She listened, her breath catching slightly as Cole’s finger found her sensitive clit. “Okay,” she managed, her composure a masterpiece. “I’ll tell him. See you there.”

She hung up and turned in his arms. “Leo says hi. He’ll get a ride from you. We’re meeting them at the diner.”

Cole laughed, low and admiring. “You’re terrifying.” He kissed her, slow and deep. “Let’s go.”

***

The diner was bustling with Saturday morning chatter. The bell jingled as they entered, and a small, powerful force in a dinosaur t-shirt detached from Leo’s side.

“Mama!” Leo yelled, sprinting across the checkered floor and launching himself at Maya’s legs.

She scooped him up, burying her face in his neck. “Hey, my big guy! Did you have fun with Uncle Leo?”

“We had pancakes!” Leo announced, then peered over her shoulder at Cole with open curiosity.

“This is my friend Cole,” Maya said, her heart doing a strange, hopeful squeeze.

“Hi, Cole,” Leo said, then immediately hid his face in Maya’s shoulder.

They slid into the booth across from Leo. While Maya and Leo debated the merits of strawberry versus chocolate syrup, Cole quietly took the crayon from Leo’s menu and drew a ridiculous, lopsided race car.

Leo stared, then pointed. “Vroom?”

“Very fast vroom,” Cole said seriously. “See the turbo here?” He added a few squiggly lines.

Leo giggled, grabbing another crayon to add his own marks. Throughout the meal, Cole kept up the quiet game, stealing fries when Leo wasn’t looking only to have them “magically” reappear, making the salt shaker “race” the pepper shaker across the table. Maya watched, her fork hovering mid-air, as her son’s shyness melted into delighted laughter under Cole’s easy, playful attention. The world outside their bubble ceased to exist. Leo’s oblivious chatter, the clatter of plates, it all faded into a distant hum. All she could see was the effortless way Cole leaned into the space, not as a guest, but as someone finding a rhythm he liked. A rhythm that included them.

She felt the ghost of his release inside her, the memory of his tongue on her skin, and now this—simple, profound, and utterly disarming. The rules were ash. The future was a terrifying, wide-open road. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hit the brakes.

---

Chapter 8

Leo’s phone buzzed, cutting through the easy diner noise. He listened, his expression shifting to business. “Yeah, I hear you. That’s not good.” He covered the mouthpiece. “Track emergency. Blown engine, practice session’s dead unless they can get a diagnostic and a temp fix.”

Maya was already shaking her head, her arm tight around Leo, who was now contentedly smearing ketchup with a fry. “I can’t, Leo. I have him. The only reason I was even going to look at that Ford today was because he was supposed to be napping.”

“I know, I know,” Leo said, frustration edging his voice. He returned to the call. “Let me see what I can—”

“I’ll take them.” Cole’s voice was calm, definitive. All three sets of eyes swung to him. He kept his gaze on Maya, a private challenge in his blue eyes. “You go do your magic. Leo needs to talk numbers with them anyway. I’ve got Leo.”

The simplicity of it, the sheer normalcy he was offering, stole her breath. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” He gave a small, reassuring nod. “We’ll be your pit crew.”

Leo looked immensely relieved. “You’re a lifesaver, man. I need to drop my truck at your shop anyway, Maya. We’ll all head over, you can grab your tools, and we’ll caravan.”

Twenty minutes later, they stood in the bay of Trusting Auto. Cole watched as Leo efficiently unstrapped the bulky car seat from his own truck. Cole stepped forward. “Here, I’ve got it.”

“You sure? It’s a puzzle the first few times,” Leo said, already handing it over.

“How hard can it be?” Cole said, a confident smirk on his face. He hefted the seat into the back of his SUV, studying the labyrinth of straps and anchors. After a full minute of futile clicking and adjusting, he felt a flush of irritation heat his neck. *Stupid.*

Maya appeared at his shoulder, her scent of motor oil and vanilla cutting through his frustration. “Latches here,” she said softly, her fingers brushing his as she guided a strap. “And this buckle clips into that anchor. See?” Her tone held no mockery, only a patient warmth that made his chest ache. He finally got it secured, the successful *click* feeling like a minor victory.

“Thanks,” he muttered, a little begrudgingly.

She just smiled, a secret, knowing thing. “Anytime.”

They piled in: Leo riding shotgun, giving directions; Maya in the back behind Cole, her kit bag at her feet; and Leo, strapped in behind Leo, clutching a small toy car Cole had “found” under the seat.

As Cole navigated toward the highway, his mind, which should have been on the road or the woman whose heat he could still feel on his skin, was utterly hijacked. His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror, drawn to the reflection of the boy in the backseat.

Leo was talking quietly to his toy, his brow furrowed in concentration. In the afternoon light, Cole caught the exact shade of his hair—not Maya’s fiery red, but a softer, dusty strawberry blond. His own color as a boy. And the shape of his eyes… not Maya’s brilliant green, but a deeper, more serious set. A ridiculous, impossible thought whispered through him: *He looks like me.*

He knew it was madness. A trick of the light, a desperate wish making patterns out of chaos. Their first time was barely a year ago; Leo was three. The timeline was a solid, immovable wall. But the feeling settled in his gut, heavy and undeniable. A possessive, primal pull that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the soft voice chattering in the backseat and the woman who owned his soul sitting just behind him.

The entire drive, all Cole could think about was Leo.

---

Chapter 9

The roar of the track was a physical presence as they pulled into the paddock, a world away from the quiet diner. Leo hopped out, already on his phone. “She’s all yours, Hail. Engine bay’s open. Rob’s got the tablet with the numbers.”

Maya was already shifting, her professional mask sliding into place. She leaned between the front seats, her hand landing on Cole’s forearm. Her voice was low, for him alone. “You’re sure about this? He can be a lot.”

Cole covered her hand with his, a quick, possessive squeeze. “We’ll be fine. Go be brilliant.”

With a final, searching look, she grabbed her bag and vanished into the hive of activity around a sleek, wounded race car.

For the next four hours, Cole lived in a surreal, sun-drenched bubble. Leo, initially shy, was quickly adopted by Leo’s pit crew. A burly mechanic named Diaz produced a tiny, genuine fire suit, the team’s logo stitched on the chest.

“Gotta be safe, little man,” Diaz said, winking at Cole.

Cole helped Leo into the suit, his big hands fumbling with the small zipper. The boy looked up at him, his green eyes wide with awe. “I’m a driver?”

“You are today,” Cole said, the words thick in his throat.

The crew’s affection was genuine. They let Leo “check” tire pressures with a dead gauge, gave him a headset to listen to the garbled radio, and cheered when he brought a water bottle to a sweating engineer.

The peak came when the track safety director, an old acquaintance of Cole’s from his semi-pro days, ambled over. “McCullen! Heard you were back. Kid yours?”

The question, so casually thrown, hit Cole like a punch. *He’s not.* The denial was automatic, but it felt like a lie on his tongue. “I’m with his mother,” he said instead, which felt terrifyingly true.

The director grinned. “Well, safety car’s free for a few. Wanna take him for a couple of laps? You’re still cleared.”

And that’s how Cole found himself buckling a gleeful Leo into the passenger seat of the bright orange safety car. As he guided the car onto the asphalt, the familiar vibration of the track through the wheel was nothing compared to the thrill of the small, suited figure beside him.

“Go faster, Cole!” Leo yelled, his laughter mixing with the engine’s snarl.

Cole pushed the car, just enough to feel the grip, the boy’s delight a louder soundtrack than any engine. As they cruised, the impossible thought returned, amplified by the shared joy. *He looks like me. He feels like mine.* He pictured a future, chaotic and real: dropping Leo at school, teaching him to ride a bike, building a life with Maya where their connection wasn’t a secret buried in a garage.

He lost himself in the fantasy, in the simple, profound fun of it. For a few perfect laps, the rules, the past, the complicated timeline—none of it existed. There was just the track, the boy’ laughter, and the burgeoning, undeniable truth in Cole’s heart that he was already in too deep to ever walk away.

---

Chapter 10

The sun was a low, orange bruise in the sky when the safety car pulled back into the paddock. Leo, giddy and exhausted, was fast asleep against Cole’s shoulder before Cole had even unbuckled him. The crew gave them a quiet salute as they passed.

The drive back was a silent, churning sea Cole navigated with a forced calm. Maya drove. Leo, riding shotgun, was recounting the day’s repairs with enthusiastic detail. In the backseat, Cole’s world had narrowed to the weight of Leo’s head, the soft puff of his breath against Cole’s neck. He stared out the window, seeing nothing but the ghost of a college party four years past.

It hit him in a sickening wave: the blackout drunk night after Maya’s graduation. He’d crashed at Leo’s place. He remembered staggering into a dark room, a warm, willing body already in the bed. A stranger. No names, just frantic, drunken heat and the blissful oblivion of sleep. Waking up alone, hungover, with only the faint scent of jasmine on the sheets.

*Three and a half years ago.*

His gaze shifted to the rearview mirror, locking with Maya’s for a fractured second. Her green eyes were wide with a mirrored panic before she quickly looked back at the road. She’d seen it too. The set of Leo’s brow, the shade of his hair in the sunset light—it wasn’t just his imagination.

“So you’re really going to work on the truck tonight?” Leo asked as they pulled up to Trusting Auto.

“Once he’s down,” Maya said, her voice tight. She got out and opened the back door. “I’ve got him.”

“I can carry him in,” Cole offered, his voice rough.

“I’ve got it,” she repeated, more gently, but her hands trembled slightly as she unbuckled Leo. As she lifted him, her fingers brushed Cole’s arm, a jolt of electricity in the tense quiet. She didn’t look at him again.

Leo clapped Cole on the shoulder. “You mind dropping me home? Save me calling a cab.”

Cole knew it was a ploy—a barrier erected by her brother to keep them from talking. “Yeah,” Cole said flatly. “No problem.”

The drive to Leo’s apartment was short but heavy.

“Leo had a blast today,” Leo said, filling the silence. “You’re a natural with him.”

Cole’s grip tightened on the wheel. “He’s a great kid.” He paused, the question he’d been burning to ask finally escaping. “His dad… Maya ever talk about him?”

Leo’s easygoing demeanor hardened. “No. And he doesn’t deserve to. The guy was a piece of crap. Happened around her graduation. She never even told him. Said he hit her a few times when she tried to talk to him earlier that year. Better off without him knowing.”

Each word was a nail. The timeline was perfect. The violence… Cole felt a cold fury mix with his dawning realization. *He* was that piece of crap. The anonymous drunk. The faceless mistake.

He pulled up to Leo’s building. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, man.” Leo hesitated. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

“Long day,” Cole managed. “Tell Maya… tell her I’ll see her later.”

Leo nodded, oblivious, and got out.

Cole sat in the idling car, watching him disappear inside. Then he put the car in drive and pointed it back toward the shop, toward the woman who held his past and his possible future in her hands, and toward a truth that threatened to shatter everything they’d just begun to build.

---

Chapter 11

Maya’s hands were trembling as she ran Leo’s bath. The image of Cole’s face in the rearview mirror, that shattered, knowing look, played on a loop. She’d seen the math click behind his eyes. It was the same awful calculus she’d done a thousand times.

*Three and a half years.*

She bathed Leo, her movements mechanical. As she toweled his damp, red-gold curls, the memory rose, unbidden and ugly.

**Graduation week.**

Tyler, her ex, showing up at her apartment. Angry. Drunk. He’d shoved her against the wall when she said it was over. A week later, at the graduation after-party at Leo’s, he’d cornered her again. She remembered the sour smell of beer on his breath, the grip on her arm. *“You don’t get to leave me.”* He’d forced himself on her in a dark hallway. It was quick, brutal, and left her feeling skinned alive.

An hour later, drowning that violation in cheap tequila, she’d seen Cole. Leo’s rich, untouchable friend. Blond, beautiful, and so far out of her league it was laughable. A reckless, furious power surged in her. *Fine. You take something from me? I’ll take something for myself.* She’d walked right up to him, put her hand on his chest, and kissed him. He was drunk, she was shattered, but his hands were gentle. In a dark bedroom, it was quiet. Tender, even. It wasn’t love. It was reclamation.

She tucked Leo into bed, kissing his forehead. “Love you, my brave boy.”

“Love you, Mama.”

She closed his door and leaned against it, eyes shut. *Two men. One week.* When she’d missed her period, the terror wasn’t about which one. It was the vile hope that it was Cole’s, because the idea of being tied to Tyler for life made her want to vomit. But the timing… it was too close to call. A doctor had confirmed it. All she knew was she was clean. She’d clung to that.

She changed into her coveralls and went to the shop’s service bay. Leo’s truck was on the lift, the transmission exposed. The work was a blessing. She could lose herself in the logic of gears and torque. She grabbed a wrench, her grip white-knuckled. *Finish by midnight.*

***

Cole drove in circles for an hour, fury and fear a toxic brew in his veins. He wanted to storm in, demand the truth. But he knew her. Knew she’d bolt, or worse, shut down completely. The shop was her fortress. He had to meet her there, on her ground.

The bay was lit up like a stadium when he pulled in. He could see her under the truck, legs sticking out. He killed the engine and walked inside, the smell of oil and metal hitting him.

Maya slid out on the creeper and froze when she saw him. She stood up, wiping her hands on a rag, her face a mask of defensive calm.

“You’re supposed to be gone,” she said, her voice flat.

“We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Cole. It was a long time ago.”

He took a step closer, the overhead lights casting harsh shadows. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I saw your face in the car. You know what I realized.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Leo,” he said, the name a blade between them. “His birthday. His eyes. The timeline, Maya. Your graduation.”

Her composure cracked. “Stop it.”

“Was it me?” The question was raw, torn from him. “Am I the piece of crap who hit you? The one Leo said didn’t deserve to know?”

“No!” The word was a shout, echoing in the bay. She threw the rag down. “God, no. It wasn’t you like that.”

“Then tell me how it was!”

“It was Tyler!” she screamed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “My ex. He… he forced me. A week before the party. A week.” She hugged herself, turning away. “And I was so angry, and so broken, and you were there. You were beautiful and rich and I thought, ‘Fuck it. I choose this. I take this.’ So I did. It wasn’t serious. It couldn’t be. You were Cole.”

He felt the world tilt. “You used me.”

“I saved myself!” She whirled back, tears glittering in her fierce green eyes. “With you, it was my choice. Don’t you get that? And then, at the club, that first time a year ago… feeling you again… it all came back. The party. The possibility.”

“The possibility that he’s mine,” Cole stated, the air electric.

“I didn’t know!” she cried. “The dates were a blur. It was within days, Cole. *Days.* I didn’t know! All I could think was ‘Thank God I’m clean. Thank God it’s not Tyler’s disease.’” She sank onto the tire of the truck, her energy spent. “I never let myself hope it was you. Because hoping for you… that hurt worse.”

The anger bled out of him, leaving a vast, aching hollow. He crossed the space between them, kneeling on the concrete before her. He took her greasy, trembling hands in his.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice low. “The night of the club. The Halloween party. Me, sneaking into your bed. Was that just you taking something?”

She shook her head, a tear tracing through the smudge on her cheek. “No.”

“Then this is real. *We* are real. And that boy in there…” His voice broke. “He feels like mine. In here.” He pressed her hand to his chest, over his pounding heart. “I don’t care about a test. I choose him. I choose you. Right now.”

A sob escaped her. He stood, pulling her up with him, his mouth crashing down on hers. It was nothing like their first kiss. This was all possession and promise, salt and desperate truth. She kissed him back just as fiercely, her hands fisting in his shirt.

He walked her back until she was against the cool metal of the truck’s fender. His hands went to the buckles of her coveralls, yanking them open, pushing the heavy fabric off her shoulders until it pooled at her waist. She wore only a simple tank top and underwear beneath. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, his hands sliding down to grip her ass, lifting her onto the fender.

“Cole,” she gasped, her legs wrapping around his hips.

“I need to be inside you,” he growled against her skin, his own hands frantic. “Right here. I need to feel you, and you need to feel me. No past. Just this.”

He undid his jeans, freeing his hard cock. He tugged her underwear aside, his fingers finding her wet and ready. A raw, approving sound rumbled in his chest.

“This is mine,” he said, his blue eyes locking onto hers, dark with intensity. “You are mine.”

He pushed into her in one deep, claiming stroke. She cried out, her head falling back against the truck’s windshield with a thud. The setting was brutal, industrial—cold metal, the smell of gasoline, the distant hum of fluorescent lights. But the connection was volcanic. He set a relentless, pounding rhythm, each thrust a punctuation to his words.

“You. Are. Mine.” *Thrust.* “Leo. Is. Mine.” *Thrust.* “This family. Is. Mine.” *Thrust.*

She chanted his name, her nails scraping down his back, her hips meeting every drive. The tension of the day, the fear of a lifetime, coiled tighter and tighter within her. She could feel his own control fraying, his rhythm becoming jagged, desperate.

“Maya… I’m there…” he warned, his voice guttural.

“Me too,” she sobbed. “Don’t stop. Please.”

With a final, deep plunge, he shattered. A hoarse shout was torn from him as his release flooded her, hot and endless. The sensation, the sheer intimacy of it, tipped her over the edge. Her climax ripped through her, a silent, breathless wave that made her back arch and her vision whiten, clutching him as she pulsed around him.

For a long moment, they stayed fused, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air. The world slowly filtered back in: the hard metal beneath her, his weight, the scent of their sweat mixed with motor oil.

He softened inside her but didn’t pull away. He brushed the hair from her damp forehead, his gaze soft now, full of a wonder that mirrored her own.

“I’m not leaving,” he whispered, a solemn vow.

She believed him. For the first time, she let herself believe. She nodded, her throat too tight for words, and pulled his mouth back to hers for a kiss that was no longer desperate, but a seal. A beginning.

---

Chapter 12

Silence settled in the service bay, thick and charged, their ragged breaths the only sound. Cole slowly withdrew, tucking himself away and helping her step down from the fender. They dressed without speaking, the rustle of clothing loud in the quiet.

Maya moved first, grabbing her wrench and sliding back under the truck. The rhythmic clinking of metal filled the space. After a moment, Cole found a second light and held it for her, his presence a steady, silent support.

An hour later, the transmission was sealed. She slid out, wiped her hands, and finally met his gaze. “We should talk.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice gravelly.

They sat on a pair of upturned crates, the ghost of their joining still palpable between them. “Feelings are one thing,” Maya began, her tone all business. “DNA is another. If you’re serious about this… about him… you should get a test. I bought one. It’s in my bag.”

Cole nodded slowly. “Okay. But I’m telling you, Maya, I don’t need it to know. I want to be there for him. Fully.”

“What does ‘fully’ mean to you?” she asked, her green eyes searching his.

“It means I’m not a weekend dad. If I’m his father, I want shared custody. I want mornings and bedtimes and school runs.”

She looked down, twisting the rag in her hands. “His schedule… it’s everything to him. How do we just… integrate you into that without turning his world upside down?”

“We figure it out,” he said firmly. Then a flicker of pain crossed his face. “But you have to understand… it hurts that you kept him from me.”

“I kept him from everyone!” she shot back, her composure cracking. “Cole, how was I supposed to walk up to *Cole* and say, ‘Hey, remember that drunk one-night stand? I’m pregnant, and it might be yours.’ You would’ve thought I was a gold-digging liar. You wouldn’t have believed me.”

The truth of it hung in the oily air. Cole’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know that I would have. I was a different person. Arrogant. Guarded.”

Her phone buzzed on the workbench, then his. He glanced at his screen, his expression turning grim. “Shit. That’s the Singapore deal. It’s falling apart. They need me on a plane tonight. Leo too.”

The whiplash was instant. “Tonight?”

“I have to go. It’s a week, tops.” He stood, pulling her to him for a hard, brief kiss. “This isn’t an out. This is a pause.”

The week crawled. The shop was slow, and Leo moped, missing his Uncle Leo terribly. Both men called and texted; Leo with chaotic updates, Cole with purposeful check-ins. He was careful, never intruding during bedtime, but when he did video chat and Leo’s little voice chirped, “Hi, Unc Cole!” his smile was pure, unguarded joy.

When they returned, Maya picked them up from the airport. She cooked dinner at her place, and Leo was ecstatic, chattering between his two favorite men. As she cleared plates, Leo swooped Leo up. “Come on, buddy. Sleepover at my place!”

“Leo, you can’t keep taking him,” Maya sighed, but Leo was already cheering.

“It’s one night! Then it’s just visits, I promise. Please?”

She threw a loaded look at Cole. “Fine.”

While she helped a thrilled Leo pack his overnight bag, her phone lit up on the dresser.

> **Cole:** I guess I’m staying the night??
> **Maya:** Only if you’re gone before he gets back.

In the living room, Leo clapped Cole on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. For hanging out with Leo so much. I know kids aren’t your thing, you don’t have to, but… he really likes you.”

“It’s no trouble,” Cole said, his gaze drifting to a photo of Leo on the mantel. Leo’s eyes followed, and he frowned, a fleeting confusion crossing his face. He shook his head slightly, dismissing it as a trick of the light.

Once the door closed behind Leo and Leo, the quiet house seemed to vibrate. Cole found Maya in the hallway. No words were needed. He backed her into the bedroom, his mouth claiming hers in a deep, languid kiss that tasted of homecoming.

He laid her on the bed, peeling away her clothes and then his own. He entered her slowly, watching her face as he filled her, their joining a profound reconnection. He moved in a steady, deep rhythm, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “This is us,” he whispered, his breath hot against her lips. “This is real.”

When the coiled tension in her belly began to snap, he rolled them over without breaking their connection. “Now ride me,” he commanded, his hands guiding her hips. “Show me what you need.”

Maya rose above him, taking him deeper, setting a pace that was all her own. Her head fell back, red hair cascading down her shoulders, as she moved, her inner muscles clenching around him. The sight of her, powerful and lost in pleasure, drove him to the edge. He gripped her thighs, his own hips meeting her downward strokes, the slap of skin filling the room.

“Cole… I’m close,” she gasped.

“Let go,” he growled. “Come for me.”

Her climax tore through her with a sharp cry, her body convulsing around his cock. The sensation ripped his control away. With a final, driving thrust up into her wet heat, he followed, his release a hot, pulsing surrender inside her. She collapsed onto his chest, their hearts hammering against each other in the spent, perfect silence.

---

Chapter 13

Cole’s words were a dark, possessive whisper against her damp shoulder. “I want to claim you completely, Maya. Every part.”

Before she could form a coherent thought, his hands were on her, guiding her with a firmness that left no room for doubt. He rolled her onto her stomach, his large palm settling between her shoulder blades, pressing her down into the mattress. She felt him shift behind her, his knees nudging her thighs apart.

“Cole,” she breathed, turning her head to the side, her cheek against the cool sheet.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire. She obeyed, twisting to see him over her shoulder. The sight stole her breath: his muscular frame poised above her, his cock hard and glistening with her own wetness, his blue eyes blazing with a fierce, singular focus. “I can’t get enough of you. I never could.”

He guided himself to her entrance, the broad head notching against her. “This is mine,” he growled, pushing forward in one slow, devastating stroke that filled her to the hilt. A sharp cry tore from her throat as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him.

He didn’t pause, setting a deep, rhythmic pace that sent shockwaves through her core. Each powerful thrust drove her higher into the mattress, the slap of his hips against her ass a lewd, primal rhythm in the quiet room. He leaned over her, his chest to her back, his mouth at her ear. “You feel that? That’s me taking what’s mine. Tell me you feel it.”

“I feel you,” she gasped, her fingers clutching the sheets. “God, Cole, I feel you everywhere.”

“Who do you belong to?” His hand slid from her back, down the curve of her spine, to grip her hip hard enough to bruise.

The words were a surrender and a truth, ripped from her soul. “You! I belong to you.”

His pace became punishing, a relentless drive meant to shatter them both. The coil in her belly wound impossibly tight. “I’m close… so close…”

“Come for me,” he snarled, his thrusts turning erratic, wild. “Let go. Now.”

The command was the final spark. Her climax detonated, a white-hot burst of pleasure that clenched around his cock in violent, rolling waves. Her cry was muffled by the mattress as her vision whited out.

Feeling her convulse around him shattered his control. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the root, his own release erupting in a scalding rush deep inside her. He collapsed over her, his body shuddering with the force of it, his breath hot and ragged against her neck.

For long moments, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing and the frantic beat of their hearts. Slowly, he softened and slipped from her, rolling to his side and pulling her with him, wrapping her tightly against his chest. He pressed a reverent kiss to her temple.

“That,” he murmured into her hair, his voice hoarse but sure, “was me choosing you. Forever.”

---

Chapter 14

The profound silence of the aftermath was shattered by a familiar, frantic buzzing from the floor. Maya tensed, her body still humming from Cole’s possession. Cole lifted his head from her hair, a low growl of protest rumbling in his chest.

“Ignore it,” he murmured, his hand stroking a possessive path down her spine.

“I can’t,” she whispered, already untangling herself from his arms. “It’s Leo’s ringtone. It’s about Leo.”

She slipped from the bed, her movements fluid despite the delicious soreness between her legs, and scooped her phone from the discarded pile of her clothes. Swiping to answer the video call, she quickly tugged Cole’s t-shirt over her head, covering herself just as Leo’s face filled the screen, his expression one of amused exasperation.

“Hey, sis. Got a little guy here who is refusing to close his eyes until he sees his mama.” The camera wobbled and then tilted down.

Leo’s sleepy, serious face appeared, his green eyes wide. “Mama?”

Maya’s heart clenched, a wave of fierce love washing over her. She sat on the edge of the bed, turning the phone so Leo could see her. “Hi, baby. You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Miss you,” Leo said, his lower lip pushing out.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. So much. Did you have fun with Uncle Leo?”

“We had pizza,” Leo reported, his voice gaining energy. “And we watched cars go fast on the TV.”

Out of the camera’s view, Cole shifted on the bed behind her. She felt the heat of his bare chest press against her back, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder so he could see the screen. His presence was a solid, comforting anchor.

“That sounds awesome, buddy,” Maya said, smiling. “Now you need to be a brave racer and go to sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Put Uncle Leo back on.”

The screen shifted back to Leo. “You heard the boss. We’re on it. Night, Hails.”

“Night, Leo. Thank you.”

She ended the call and let the phone fall softly to the mattress. The room was quiet again, but the energy had shifted, softened by the domestic interruption. Cole’s arms slid around her waist, pulling her back fully against him.

“He’s perfect,” Cole said, his voice rough with emotion against her ear.

“He is.” She leaned into him, feeling the truth of the past hour settle into her bones alongside the reality of her son. This was her life now. Them.

Cole’s hands slid up under the t-shirt she wore, his palms warm on her bare stomach. “Hearing his voice… seeing you like that with him…” He turned her face toward his, his blue eyes dark and intent. “It makes me want you even more. It makes everything more intense.”

He claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, all lingering tenderness burned away by a rekindled, desperate hunger. He laid her back on the bed, pulling the shirt over her head and tossing it aside. His gaze raked over her naked body, illuminated by the sliver of moonlight through the blinds.

“I need to be inside you again,” he stated, his voice a dark command. “Right now.”

Maya spread her legs in invitation, her core already aching and wet for him. “Then take what’s yours.”

With a groan, he settled between her thighs, notching his thick cock at her entrance. He pushed in with one slow, relentless stroke, burying himself to the hilt. She cried out, arching off the bed, overwhelmed by the exquisite fullness.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and her eyes flew open, locking with his. He began to move, a deep, rhythmic pounding that stole the breath from her lungs. “This pussy is mine. This heart is mine. That amazing boy is *ours*. Say it.”

“Yours,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “All yours. Ours.”

His pace became frantic, a furious drive toward oblivion. The coil within her snapped without warning, her climax exploding through her in a silent, breathtaking wave that clenched violently around his cock. Seeing her shatter pushed him over the edge. With a raw shout, he drove in one last time, his body shuddering as his own release pulsed deep into her, hot and claiming.

He collapsed atop her, his weight a welcome burden. In the echoing quiet, broken only by their ragged breaths, he pressed a kiss to her sweaty temple.

“Forever,” he whispered, the word a vow sealed in heat and sweat and truth.

---

Chapter 15

He didn’t roll away this time. Cole gathered her into his arms, turning them so she lay sprawled across his chest, her ear pressed to the steady, heavy beat of his heart. The silence was different now—sated, deep, and threaded with the unspoken weight of everything that had just been declared.

Her fingers, tracing idle patterns through the dusting of hair on his pectoral, drifted lower. They grazed the raised, ropey texture of a long scar that curled around his side.

“You never told me about this,” she murmured, her touch gentle. “The real story.”

He caught her hand, pressing her palm flat over the damaged tissue. “Austria. Three years ago. A slick track, a rookie mistake, and a tire barrier that didn’t give.”

“It looks… deep.”

“Broke three ribs, punctured a lung. Woke up in the medical center with my engineer sobbing beside the bed.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but his thumb stroked the back of her hand. “That’s when I knew I was done chasing other people’s dreams in a car. I started building the business with Leo instead.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “You loved it, though. Racing.”

“I loved the speed. The control.” He met her gaze, his blue eyes intense. “It doesn’t compare to this. To the feel of you coming apart on my cock. To the sound of Leo laughing.”

Her breath hitched. The crude, possessive language, so stark against the tenderness of their position, sent a fresh pulse of heat straight to her core. She shifted against him, feeling him stir in response.

“We need to do the DNA test,” she said, the words a soft confession in the dark.

“I know. The next time it’s just the three of us, we’ll do it. I’ll take it.” His arms tightened around her. “But it’s just a formality, Maya. In here,” he took her hand and placed it over his heart, “he’s already mine.”

She nodded, swallowing past the emotion in her throat. “Leo…”

“We’ll tell him. But not yet.” Cole’s voice was firm. “Let me get my feet on the ground here first. Let me… belong here, with you both, before we change every dynamic he knows.”

“He’ll be furious,” she whispered.

“He’ll get over it. He loves you. He loves Leo. That’s all that will matter in the end.” He paused, his hand sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing possessively. “I’m moving back. For good. I’ve already put an offer on a house. It has a big backyard. A room that gets the morning sun. I want you and Leo in it. Every night.”

The promise was a physical thing, wrapping around her tighter than his arms. “You move fast.”

“When I know what I want.” He rolled, pinning her beneath him again, his hardened length pressing insistently against her thigh. “And I want you. Again. I want to feel that tight little pussy milk me dry until you can’t remember any man’s name but mine.”

He kissed her, a deep, consuming claim, before shifting down her body. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh. “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he growled, the vibration making her shiver. “Right now, I need a taste.”

---

Chapter 16

Maya placed a gentle hand on his chest as he began to lower himself between her thighs. A playful, stubborn glint lit her green eyes. “No. We talk now, if you want this pussy again.”

Cole paused, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. He didn’t retreat. Instead, he shifted, settling his weight over her and guiding himself to her entrance in one smooth, practiced motion. He filled her completely, making her gasp, the sensation a dizzying contrast to her demand. “We can do both,” he murmured, beginning a deep, languid rhythm.

She arched into him, her resolve melting under the delicious stretch. “The DNA test…” she managed, her voice hitching as he angled his hips.

“When it’s just the three of us,” he promised, his own breath growing ragged. He leaned down to capture her lips, his thrusts deliberate and slow. “I’ll handle it. I want it done.”

“And Leo…” Her words dissolved into a moan as he hit a spot that made her toes curl.

“He’s my problem, not yours.” Cole’s pace increased, the friction building a steady, coiling heat in her belly. “I’m moving back. For good. I want you and Leo with me.”

The idea sent a thrill of panic through the pleasure. “We can’t just… move in,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “It’s too fast. For him. For everything.”

“It’s not fast. It’s a year overdue.” He drove into her, harder, his rhythm becoming possessive, insistent. “I’ve missed a thousand nights. I’m not missing another.”

The argument was lost in the rising tide of sensation. Their conversation fragmented into gasped fragments—logistics, fears, promises—all punctuated by the slick sound of their joining and the creak of the bed. The world narrowed to his blue eyes holding hers, the solid heat of him moving inside her, and the profound rightness that quieted every protest. As the slow, deep strokes continued, exhaustion and satiation pulled at her. Her eyelids grew heavy, her body pliant and utterly claimed. She drifted off, still intimately connected to him, his presence a grounding weight in her dreams.

The piercing trill of a phone shattered the deep, contented silence of the morning. Cole jolted awake, Maya stirring against him with a soft, disoriented sound. He was still nestled inside her, a fact that seemed both impossibly intimate and suddenly perilous as he fumbled for his buzzing phone on the nightstand.

“McCullen,” he answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Where the hell are you?” Leo’s voice was sharp, stressed. “The Henderson meeting is in forty minutes. I’ve been calling Maya—her phone’s going straight to voicemail. I’m pulling up to her place now to drop off Leo before the client call. I need you here, Cole. Now.”

Cole’s blood ran cold. He met Maya’s wide, panicked eyes. The serene bubble of the night before evaporated, replaced by the stark, unforgiving light of a crisis. They were in her bed, naked, entangled, and Leo was at the gate.

---

Chapter 17

Panic was a cold, electric flood. Cole ended the call, his body tensing, pulling him partially out of her.

“He’s here,” Maya breathed, the words a terrified whisper. “He’s at the gate.”

They moved in a frantic, silent scramble. Cole rolled away, the morning air shocking against his damp skin. Maya snatched her phone from the floor, her fingers trembling as she dialed.

“Leo, wait!” she gasped into the phone, trying to sound breathless from sleep, not from Cole. She pressed the speaker button. “I’m so sorry, my phone died. I just plugged it in.”

“It’s fine, but I’m pulling up now,” Leo’s impatient voice filled the room. “I’ve got Leo and we need to—”

“No! I mean, can you do me a huge favor?” Maya cut in, her eyes locked on Cole, who was pulling on his boxers with lethal efficiency. “I have nothing for Leo’s breakfast. Could you… could you stop at Sunny Side Up and get those pancake dippers he loves? I’ll throw some cash at you when you get here. Please?”

A beat of silence. “You’re killing me, Hails. The meeting…”

“I know, I’m the worst sister. Ten minutes? I’ll be dressed and ready, I promise.”

A heavy sigh. “Fine. But be ready. Cole’s already MIA.”

She hung up, slumping against the headboard. “He’s getting food. We have maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Then we move,” Cole said, his voice a low command. He tossed her his shirt. “Put this on. I need my pants from the living room.”

They were a blur of motion. Maya pulled his shirt over her head, the scent of him enveloping her, a dangerous, delicious evidence. Cole returned, fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes, looking impossibly put-together for a man who’d just been inside her. He saw her panicked expression.

“The story,” he said calmly, pulling her to him. “Why am I here so early?”

Her mind raced. “The… the Henderson contract. You wanted to review the final specs with me before the meeting, since I’m doing the custom install. You came early to beat traffic.”

A slow, approving smile touched his lips. “Good. Stick to it.” He kissed her, hard and quick. “Now, shower. Together. We’re out of time.”

He dragged her into the bathroom. The water was barely warm as they crowded under the spray, a chaotic, functional cleanse. Cole’s hands were everywhere, soap sliding over her skin, rinsing away the scent of their night. He turned her, his palm smoothing down her spine, over the curve of her ass.

“He can’t know,” she whispered, tilting her head back against his chest.

“He won’t.” Cole’s voice was a vow against her wet skin. His hand slid between her thighs from behind, his fingers finding her sensitive flesh, working in quick, purposeful circles. “But this pussy is still mine. Even when he’s in the next room.”

She gasped, her hands slapping against the tiles for balance as the clever pressure of his fingers sent a bolt of pure, illicit heat straight to her core. It was a claiming, a reminder in the frantic rush. Her body clenched, begging for the release he was expertly stoking.

“Cole… we can’t…”

“We are,” he growled, his teeth grazing her shoulder. His fingers drove deeper, the pace relentless. “Come for me. Quick. Quiet. Let me feel you let go.”

The orgasm was a sharp, shocking crest, wrung from her in the steam and panic. She bit down on her own fist to stifle the cry, her body shuddering against his as the water washed over them. He held her through it, his own breath ragged in her ear.

As the last tremor faded, he slowly withdrew his hand. “Now,” he said, turning off the water. “Get dressed. Your brother’s here.”

---

Chapter 18

They were a picture of domestic normalcy when the front door swung open five minutes later.

Maya was in the kitchen, pouring coffee into two mugs, her damp hair tied up in a messy bun. Cole stood by the counter, one hand resting on the back of a chair, the other holding his phone as if reviewing a schematic. They both looked up, their expressions perfectly calibrated: mildly surprised, professionally engaged.

“Uncle Leo!” Leo’s bright voice shattered the tense calm. He barreled into the room, a small tornado in a dinosaur hoodie, and launched himself at Maya’s legs. “Mommy!”

“Hey, buddy!” Maya scooped him up, her face softening into a genuine, relieved smile. She buried her nose in his hair, inhaling the scent of syrup and boy. “Did you have fun with Uncle Leo?”

“Pancakes!” Leo announced, then his curious gaze shifted over her shoulder. He pointed a sticky finger. “Hi, Cole!”

Cole’s carefully constructed composure melted. A slow, warm smile spread across his face, one that reached his eyes. “Hey, champ. I heard you were a co-pilot last night.”

Leo followed, holding a greasy paper bag and looking harried. His eyes darted between Cole and Maya, a flicker of confusion passing over his features. “Cole. What are you doing here so early? I’ve been calling you.”

Cole didn’t miss a beat. He lifted his phone slightly. “The Henderson install. The final schematics came in last night with some last-minute adjustments to the exhaust routing. Since Maya’s doing the custom fab work, I wanted to run it by her before the ten o’clock meeting. Beat the traffic.”

Maya nodded, bouncing Leo on her hip. “Yeah, it’s a tight fit around the rear differential. His notes were… detailed.” The lie came out smoothly, flavored with a mechanic’s genuine irritation. She felt Cole’s gaze on her, a hot, approving weight.

Leo seemed to buy it, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Right, right. Of course.” He dropped the bag on the table. “Kid ate his weight in whipped cream. You’re welcome.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Maya’s outfit—Cole’s t-shirt, which hung to her mid-thigh, and a pair of her own leggings. “You just get up?”

“Phone died, alarm didn’t go off,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “Thanks for the food, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

Leo wriggled out of Maya’s arms and trotted over to Cole, holding up his arms in a silent demand. Cole’s breath hitched. He looked at Maya, a silent question in his eyes. She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

Cole bent and lifted the boy easily, settling him against his hip. Leo immediately patted Cole’s cheek with a sticky palm. “You drive fast car?”

“Sometimes,” Cole said, his voice gruff with an emotion he couldn’t name. He looked at Leo. “We’re pretty much set here. I’ll head out with you, we can finalize the pitch on the way.”

Leo nodded, already heading for the door. “Fine. Let’s move. Maya, I need you at the meeting, too. The client wants to meet the artist.”

“I’ll be there,” she said, her eyes locked on Cole holding her son. The sight sent a fierce, protective warmth through her chest, tangled with a sharp, thrilling possessiveness. *Mine. They are both mine.*

As Leo stepped outside, Cole moved closer to her, Leo still content in his arms. He leaned in, his voice a low, private rumble meant only for her. “The story’s good. But this…” He nodded down at Leo, who was now playing with the collar of Cole’s shirt. “This is the only truth that matters.”

His free hand came up, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her cheek before trailing down her neck, a deliberate, claiming caress. His thumb stroked the frantic pulse at the base of her throat. “Tonight,” he whispered, his eyes darkening with a promise that had nothing to do with schematics. “After the meeting. After he’s asleep. My hands are going to be all over this pussy again, Maya. And I’m not leaving until I’ve tasted every single part of you I missed this morning.”

A violent shiver ran through her. She could only nod, her lips parting on a sharp inhale.

With one last, scorching look, Cole turned and carried Leo to the door, handing him gently back to her. “See you at ten, Trusting.”

He followed Leo out, closing the door behind him. Maya stood in the sudden quiet, Leo’s solid weight in her arms, the phantom feeling of Cole’s hands and words branding her skin. The deception was in place, but the hunger between them, now woven with this new, fragile thread of family, was a live wire, humming and waiting for the cover of darkness.

---

Chapter 19

The quiet of the house after the door closed was a physical pressure in Maya’s ears. Leo’s sticky fingers patted her cheek. “Cole nice,” he declared.

“Yeah, buddy,” she breathed, her voice unsteady. “He is.”

She moved on autopilot. Getting Leo cleaned up and changed for daycare required a focus that mercifully pushed Cole’s final, whispered threat to the background. She dressed in her own clothes—dark jeans, a fitted black t-shirt under her open shop button-down—but the ghost of his hands lingered. In the mirror, she saw the faint, possessive bruise just above her collarbone where his mouth had been hours earlier. She left it uncovered.

Dropping Leo off was a whirlwind of lunchboxes and goodbye kisses. Driving to the McCullen-Trusting offices, her mind replayed the morning’s deception. It had been seamless. They were a good team.

*Tonight.*

The word was a drumbeat in her veins.

***

In the sleek conference room, Cole stood at the window, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. Leo was at the table, shuffling through presentation slides.

“You’re sure you got all the notes to Maya?” Leo asked, not looking up.

“Every last one,” Cole said, his tone easy. He turned, leaning against the glass. “She’s sharp. Saved our asses on the Thompson job last year with that on-the-fly weld. Remember?”

Leo grunted in agreement. “She’s the best fabricator I know. Doesn’t suffer fools, though.” He glanced at Cole. “You two seemed… comfortable this morning.”

Cole took a slow sip. “She’s your sister. We’ve been friends for years, through you.” He paused, letting the statement hang. “Speaking of… is she seeing anyone?”

Leo’s head snapped up. “Maya? No. Hell no. After what that last bastard put her through? She’s got her shop, and Leo. That’s her world.” He eyed Cole with new wariness. “Why?”

Cole shrugged, turning his gaze back to the city below. “Just curious. Now that I’m finalizing the move back, I was thinking I’d like to hang around more. With all of you. I’ve enjoyed it—the diner, helping with Leo yesterday. Felt… normal.” He looked back at Leo, his expression open, disarmingly sincere. “That okay with you?”

Leo was silent for a long moment, his protective instincts warring with his friendship. He knew Cole’s reputation with women—a charming, transient blur. He didn’t know Cole’s intentions, and that uncertainty was a wall. “You’re my friend, Cole. And my partner. But Maya and Leo… they’re not part of the business.”

“I know,” Cole said softly, meeting his gaze squarely. “That’s why I’m asking.”

Before Leo could formulate a response, the conference room door opened.

Maya walked in, her tool bag slung over one shoulder, her presence immediately changing the room’s atmosphere. “Sorry I’m late. The Henderson schematics were more detailed than I expected,” she said, her green eyes flicking to Cole for a heartbeat before landing on her brother. “You ready?”

The client meeting commenced. It was a high-stakes proposal for a custom vintage restoration. Maya took the lead on the fabrication plan, her explanations clear, passionate, and technically flawless. She spoke about metal stresses and aesthetic flow with equal authority, her hands sketching shapes in the air. Cole watched, a quiet pride warming his chest as he saw the client’s impressed nods.

When she finished, the lead client, a stern older man, leaned forward. “That’s the most coherent vision I’ve heard yet. Your team’s reputation is clearly earned, Ms. Trusting.”

As the meeting broke up with handshakes and promises of a follow-up, Leo clapped Maya on the back, his earlier tension momentarily forgotten in the glow of professional triumph. “Nailed it, Hails.”

Maya smiled, but her attention was pulled like a magnet to where Cole stood, gathering his papers. He didn’t look at her, but she felt the heat of his awareness across the room, a silent promise that had nothing to do with business, and everything to do with the night stretching out before them, dark and full of unfinished truth.

---

Chapter 20

The lead client, Mr. Henderson, closed his portfolio with a satisfied nod. “You’ve sold me. Let’s celebrate. I’d like to take the team to dinner tonight. My treat at The Cloister.”

Leo grinned, immediately accepting. “We’d be honored.”

Cole nodded his agreement, his gaze sliding to Maya, who was meticulously packing her tools. “It would be wonderful if you could join us, Maya,” Mr. Henderson added, noticing her focus. “Your vision made this happen.”

All eyes turned to her. Maya straightened, a flush creeping up her neck. “That’s very kind, but I don’t have anything to wear to a place like that.”

“So rent something,” Leo said with a brotherly shrug.

“No,” Cole cut in, his voice quiet but absolute. The room stilled. “She deserves something bought. I’ll buy whatever you like. Consider it a… performance bonus.” His eyes held hers, the double meaning a private current in the professional space.

Maya’s pulse thrummed. “I’d need to call Leo’s nanny first.”

“Then call,” Cole said, a gentle command.

***

Later, at the familiar diner, the atmosphere was lighter. Maya had picked up Leo, and they’d joined the men for a late lunch. Leo, thrilled to see “Unca Leo” and “Cole” again, held court in his booster seat, evangelizing about the virtues of chicken tenders.

“See?” Leo said, pointing a fry at Cole. “I told you. Diner best.”

Cole’s laugh was genuine, his eyes soft as he watched the boy. “You were right, buddy. The expert has spoken.”

Maya observed them, the easy way Cole leaned in, the unconscious mirroring of posture. The illogical, paternal pull she’d seen in him yesterday was now a visible thread, tying them all together in the vinyl booth.

After lunch, the plan was set. Cole, true to his word, would meet Maya at her house to take her shopping. Leo headed to the office to tie up loose ends.

At home, Maya had just finished briefing Mrs. Potts, Leo’s steady, grandmotherly nanny, when the doorbell rang. Leo scampered ahead to answer.

“Cole!” he cheered, pulling the man inside.

Cole smiled, scooping Leo up for a moment before setting him down. His eyes found Maya, then moved respectfully to the older woman in the hallway.

“Mrs. Potts, this is Cole, Leo’s business partner,” Maya said, her voice carefully even. “Cole, this is Mrs. Potts. Leo’s guardian angel when I’m out.”

“A pleasure,” Cole said, offering a hand. His demeanor was all polite charm, the intense predator from the garage completely hidden. “Thank you for helping on short notice.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Potts said, her keen eyes missing nothing. She looked between Cole’s attentive stance and Maya’s flushed cheeks, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. “You all have a good evening. Don’t worry about a thing here.”

As Mrs. Potts led a chattering Leo toward the toy room, Cole stepped closer to Maya. The air between them compressed, filled with the unspoken promise of the night ahead—the dinner, the dress, the dark, waiting city beyond her door.

“Ready?” he murmured, his voice a low vibration meant only for her.

She nodded, the word sticking in her throat. Ready for the dress, the dinner, the facade. But mostly, she was ready for everything that would come after.

---

Chapter 21

The boutique was a temple of soft light and hushed voices. Maya felt wildly out of place among the racks of silk and chiffon, her usual uniform of worn jeans and a tank top a glaring contrast. Cole, however, navigated the space with an easy confidence, his hand a steady, warm pressure at the small of her back.

“That one,” he said, his voice a low murmur near her ear as he stopped before a simple, columnar dress in deep emerald green. “Try it.”

It was nothing she would have chosen—sleeveless, with a high neckline and a back that plunged to the waist. She eyed him skeptically but took the hanger into the curtained changing room.

When she emerged, the cool air of the shop kissed her exposed spine. She turned slowly, seeking her reflection. The dress was a revelation. The color made her hair look like spilled wine, and the fabric clung to her curves before falling in a clean line to the floor. It was elegant, powerful.

She pulled the curtain aside.

Cole was leaning against a mirrored pillar, arms crossed. When he saw her, his posture went rigid. The casual confidence vanished, replaced by a stark, predatory stillness. His blue eyes darkened, sweeping from her face down the length of the dress and back up, a visual possession that stole the air from her lungs.

“Jesus,” he breathed, the word rough.

Before he could say more, the boutique’s door chimed. Leo strode in, looking harried. “Sorry I’m late. I need a suit for tonight and thought I’d catch you two—” His words died as he took in the scene: Maya in the stunning dress, and Cole’s raw, unguarded stare fixed on her.

Leo’s gaze flicked between them, a flicker of confusion knitting his brows. It was more than appreciation in Cole’s look; it was hunger, intimacy, a knowing claim that had no place in a simple shopping trip between business partners and a sister. He cleared his throat. “That’s… quite a dress, Maya.”

Cole’s mask snapped back into place, smooth and polite. “It suits her,” he said, but the intensity still simmered beneath the surface, a barely contained current Leo had unmistakably witnessed.

---

Chapter 22

The charged silence Cole’s look created stretched between them. Leo cleared his throat again, glancing away from his sister. “Right. Well, I need to find a suit.”

He retreated into the racks, the moment broken but the tension he’d witnessed left hanging in the air.

Maya turned back to the mirror, adjusting a strap. Her eyes caught on a different dress, a slip of midnight-blue silk hanging nearby. It was simple, almost severe, with thin straps and a bias cut. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cool fabric. It was the kind of dress you wore for no one but yourself. After a lingering moment, she released it with a small sigh and let the curtain fall back, hiding the green dress from view as she changed.

When she emerged, the green dress was folded over her arm. Cole was at the counter, his back to her, speaking quietly with the sales associate. She saw the woman nod and discreetly pull the midnight-blue dress from the rack, adding it to his purchase.

“Cole, what are you doing?” Maya whispered, coming to his side.

He turned, his expression unreadable. “You touched it like it was a secret. So I’m buying it.” His voice was low, meant only for her. “Everyone gets the performance. That one’s just for me.”

Her breath hitched. Before she could protest, he’d already turned back, adding a pair of sharp, black stilettos to the purchase. “For the emerald,” he said, as if it explained everything.

Leo found a classic black suit with minimal fuss. Within thirty minutes, they were stepping back out onto the sun-drenched sidewalk, Cole carrying two heavy garment bags and a shoe box.

“I’ll see you at the restaurant,” Leo said, unlocking his own car. He gave Maya a final, searching look. “Eight sharp.”

As Leo pulled away, Cole turned to her. “Your place or mine to get ready?”

“All my stuff is at home,” she said, nerves fluttering. “My makeup, everything.”

“We can stop and buy whatever you need,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “But we’re not going straight there. I need to have you before we go to this dinner, Maya. I need it now.”

The raw command in his voice was a live wire straight to her core.

He drove, one hand on the wheel, the other resting high on her thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles on the inside seam of her jeans. He didn’t go to her house. Instead, he pulled into the secluded, multi-level parking garage beneath his downtown penthouse. The engine cut, leaving them in echoing, concrete silence.

He turned to her, the predatory stillness from the boutique fully returned. “Come here.”

She unbuckled and shifted across the console. He didn’t wait, his hands framing her face, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was pure possession. It was deep, wet, and demanding, his tongue sweeping against hers. One hand slid down, cupping her breast through her shirt, his thumb finding her nipple and pinching just shy of pain.

She moaned into his mouth, her hands fisting in his shirt.

“I saw the way you looked in that dress,” he growled against her lips, his other hand moving to the button of her jeans. “Knowing what I know is underneath it. Knowing you’re mine.” He popped the button, tugged the zipper down. “You’re not wearing any of it until I’ve had you first.”

His fingers slipped inside her jeans, under the edge of her panties, and found her wet and ready. He groaned, the sound vibrating through both of them. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Just from me looking at you.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her head falling back against the headrest as he pressed two fingers inside her.

“Tell me why,” he commanded, his fingers curling, stroking a deep, perfect spot.

“Because you own me,” she gasped, the confession ripped from her. “You see me, and you want me, and it… it rewires me.”

“That’s right.” He added a third finger, stretching her, his pace ruthless. “You’re going to come for me right here. Then we’ll go upstairs, and I’ll watch you put that dress on. And all night, you’ll remember my fingers inside you. You’ll feel it every time you move.”

His words were the final trigger. The coiling tension in her belly snapped. Her climax tore through her, sharp and shocking, her body convulsing around his thrusting fingers. A ragged cry echoed in the cavernous garage.

He held her through it, his forehead pressed to hers, his breath hot and ragged. When the last tremor subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his blue eyes locked on hers, dark with satisfied hunger.

“Now,” he said, his voice gravel. “Let’s go get you ready.”