Freight Trained by Sarah Curtis

her again, only this time, supporting himself on one hand so the other could come up and caress her cheek.  "I'm not a real likable guy, I get that, and it's okay if you don't like me because your body tells a different story and like I said, I'm a greedy bastard, so that's enough for me. 
    "Now, me, on the other hand, I like you.  I think you're sweet, funny, and your voice makes my dick get hard every time I hear it.  You're quiet and shy but under the surface, you've got a quick temper that I love to poke a stick at because that's a whole nother turn-on in itself.  And darlin', your ass, whether in tight ass jeans, those little skimpy jean shorts you like to wear, or those sexy, fuck-me skirts, looking at it is my new favorite pastime.  But even your ass, as gorgeous as it is, has got nothing on your face."  His thumb skimmed across her cheekbone.  A light, barely there touch, like a lover's caress.  "Flawless, unsurpassed beauty.  I've never seen its equal.
    "Now, let me clear up any confusion.  Last night, you became mine.  I claimed you in front of your girls.  That kiss," he said, with a nod to the living room, "sealed the deal.  So to answer your question, there is no you and me, we are now an us."    
    By the time Cole finished his speech — and it was a speech, it was the most she'd heard Cole say at one time — she was left speech less, staring at him, her mouth hanging open, eyes so wide she could feel them bugging from her head.  Her brain did a flashback processing everything from the moment she'd met him until now.  Who was this guy?  Gruff, bossy, blunt to a fault, one moment.  Protective, caring, charmer the next.  His possessively dominating Neanderthal act from last night clashed drastically with his tenderly sweet words from but a moment ago and was enough to give any girl whiplash, especially a girl as relationship challenged as she.
    His hand skimmed her jaw, his fingers stopping under her chin, applying light pressure to close it.  "Eat."  He picked up his fork and dug back into his plate.
    Not knowing what to say, her head pounding too much to think about and process everything that just happened, she picked up her fork and ate.
     
    Abby sat on her couch, feet up on the coffee table, head tipped back, trying to get rid of the last of her headache.  After she'd eaten enough to make Cole happy, she'd insisted he take her home.  He hadn't been happy, even tried to coerce her with another bone-melting kiss (that nearly worked), but short of tying her to his bed — which, Abby had a feeling he wouldn't be opposed to doing — he couldn't force her to stay.  After explaining she needed some time alone to process everything, he'd grudgingly complied.
    Now, hours later with a shower, nap, and light dinner of soup under her belt, she felt almost normal.  Her body, at any rate, her emotions were a different story.  She still had trouble wrapping her brain around the fact that Cole wanted her.  And although she was hesitant to make assumptions — because that had worked so well for her with their first two encounters — it did sound like he wanted her for more than a one-shot deal.  After all, he was the one who'd called them an "us." 
    She pondered how she felt about that.  She'd been willing to try a short fling — walking in with her eyes wide open, knowing not to get attached — never having felt sexual desire before and wanting to explore it.  But how did she feel about starting a relationship?  Did she want to risk emotions getting involved?  What would happen if the lust she was feeling turned into love and he didn't reciprocate those feelings?  She'd be left heartbroken when he finished with her.  Was the saying about love and loss true?  Because from where she sat, the whole idea seemed scary. 
    Being twenty-two, she should know the answers to these questions.  The average person would've had a few relationships under their belt and maybe even a few