The Rebel Heir Page 8

  Long after settling beneath the covers in the cloak of darkness, he realized it was not just food for which he yearned. His brother had found love; they shared their lives. Loving each other. Taking care of one another. Making love to each other.

  As he lay in his bed with nothing but his anger at Jillian to clutch, he felt alone and hungry for a partner of his own. That was a discovery he hadn’t been aware of or ready to accept. For so long, he had rebelled against what was expected and ordinary. He had found comfort in being different.

  As he buried his head against the pillow, the rebel was willing to admit that he had been wrong.

  Six

  One week later

  “Jillian. Jillian? Something wrong?”

  She heard the voice beside her as she stood there, but she was unable to speak. For her, time, and everything along with it, slowed as she looked across the distance with no doubt. Her body was sure of him, even when her eyes were not. Shock, pleasure, and fighting the urge to run to him with the fancy of a child left her spellbound.

  Cole, she mouthed as she watched him work from his large navy-colored food truck that was a showpiece all its own.

  As he handed someone their order, he raised his head as if he had heard her call his name—but that was impossible because it had been less than a whisper. His eyes widened at the sight of her. He was just as surprised as she was.

  Did he also feel the pull to eat up the distance between them? The urge to be near her?

  It nearly suffocated her.

  “You okay, Jillian?”

  “Yes,” she lied to her former first husband, hating the hand Warren placed at the small of her back as he stood beside her.

  Cole’s expression changed. Hardened as he’d turned his head and focused on taking an order from the next person in a very long line of customers waiting to purchase his food.

  “I’m glad we met up, Jillie,” Warren said, using her childhood nickname.

  He would know it well. They had been high school sweethearts who had married right after graduation and then divorced a year later when marriage, college and finances had not mixed.

  She looked up at him with a genuine smile. “Me, too, Dr. Long.”

  When she’d been told that significant renovation would close the restaurant for two weeks, she had been more than happy to post on social media that she was headed home to the east coast. Warren had reached out to let her know that he had moved back from Texas. That he’d taken an esteemed position as an attending cardiothoracic surgeon in Manhattan.

  A day enjoying good music and a bevy of good eats at a food truck rally in Prospect Park in Brooklyn had seemed the ideal place for a friendly reconnection. They’d spoken here and there over the years, often via social media, but both had long since released ideas of reconciliation and were just happy for friendship and nothing more.

  “The only thing missing to make me feel like I’m home truly is pizza,” she stressed, ignoring the nervousness she felt at just what Cole thought of her being there with another man.

  “It would be bagels for me,” Warren said, easing his black-framed glasses up on his nose as he looked around. “There’re still a good number of trucks on this side. I wish I wasn’t on duty tonight.”

  “It’s cool,” she said, shifting her eyes to Cole’s truck. He had the most massive crowd awaiting a chance to order from the well-known celebrity cook. “I know that chef, and I’m gonna jump on board to help.”

  “Really?” he asked. “Cool. You have a way home?”

  “Warren, I’m a grown woman, not the high school girl you first met,” she reminded him.

  “And you’ve survived a long time without me around,” he said, sounding bemused.

  “Same for you. I am so proud of you, Warren.”

  “And you’re an executive chef,” he said, looking down at his feet and then up at her. “We both are living our dreams.”

  “I think getting out of our nightmare of a marriage played a huge role,” she said.

  “I agree.” Warren chuckled.

  Following an impulse, Jillian reached up to pat his chest as she felt the twinkle in her eyes. “Go save lives, and I’ll go cook,” she said, feeling comfortable around him.

  Warren gave her another smile before turning to stride away.

  Jillian licked her lips as she walked over to Cole’s truck. The smell of food mingled in the air with the music played on the main stage. She didn’t know if she was crazy or not, but she followed her instincts and the road that led back to Cole. Her heart guided her.

  “Excuse me,” she said, easing between two women in line to climb the steps and open the door to the polished food truck. “Need some help?”

  Cole did a double-take—maybe even a triple—as he paused with a handful of sliced green onions above an open takeout container. He knit his brows as he finished the dish and handed it to his customer with a smile.

  It had been so long since he’d beamed that disarming tool at her.

  “One moment,” he said to the next person in line.

  Jillian’s heart hammered as she closed the metal door and reached for one of the black aprons hanging from a hook.

  He walked over to her. “Get out, Jillian,” he said coldly. “I don’t want you here.”

  Her ego caused her spine to stiffen and she had to give herself a quick five count. Fight for him. Don’t give up. “But you need me,” she told him, shifting to his left to try to pass.

  Cole moved to block her.

  She looked up and their eyes locked. She released a little puff of breath to relieve the electricity she felt at being so close to him. Inhaling his scent. Getting lost in his eyes. Wanting to feel his touch.

  She craved Cole Cress. It was a profound hunger fueled by love. She had to bite her lip to keep from revealing her heart to him. “You want to waste time arguing with me while your patrons wait, Chef?” she asked.

  He turned and moved away from her with strides that revealed his annoyance. “You sure you’re allowed to help me?” he asked as he grabbed a towel and looked down at his hands as he wiped them.

  “Allowed by whom?” she asked, stepping to the small sink to wash her hands before quickly surveying the ingredients in his fridge and the items offered on the menu.

  The food truck was far more than that. It was a compact chef’s kitchen with all the bells and whistles. She felt excited to play with his beloved toy.

  “My mother...and your man,” Cole grumbled.

  He’s jealous.

  “Your mother does not own me, and the gentleman you saw me with was my ex-husband, not my current man,” she said, shifting to stand beside him and smile down at a young woman. “What can I get for you?”

  At that point, they were off to the races and spent the next few hours splitting the grill to make the orders and trim the order line down. Long after darkness descended and the towering light poles of the park had to bring illumination, the two worked in sync, even helping each other with a particular order and using a shorthand to get the job done, fast, efficiently and, most important, deliciously.

  Jillian found it exhilarating.

  The close quarters and having to brush past Cole had stoked her desire. At times, she would notice the muscles of his arms as he reached to hand a customer their plate, or the way he used a cloth to dab at the sweat dampening his forehead, or the scent of his cologne mingling with the onion and spices in the air. The fit of his jeans on his buttocks. The small of his back when he reached for something from the shelf above his head.

  The smile he offered each and every person.

  A charmer. Her charmer.

  Or at least, he would be again.

  She bit the inside of her cheek as she envisioned licking away the sweat dampening his chest. The impulse to be near him and to reconnect with him had been too tempting to
deny. The very sight of him flooded her body with that undeniable warmth of love.

  Jillian decided that she wanted Cole back in her life, no matter the consequences.

  “All right. Thank you. ’Night,” he said to his last customer before sliding the window closed and pressing a button to automatically lower the awning.

  “All the bells and whistles,” she said as she finished wiping and sanitizing the stainless-steel countertops. “This is top of the line, Cole.”

  He nodded as he removed his apron. “I only like the best of the best,” he said.

  “Oh. Well...thank you,” Jillian said with a flirty curtsy.

  Cole eyed her for so long with a blank expression that she felt foolish.

  She threw her hands up in frustration.

  “I was referring to things that are mine,” he said.

  “I’m not a thing,” she shot back.

  “Nor were you mine,” he returned coldly in retaliation.

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” she stated, stressing the word.

  Cole smirked and dropped his head as he shook it.

  “You treat me like we never shared a year—”

  “Are you serious?” He balked with wide-eyed astonishment. “And you treated me any better? Don’t be a hypocrite, Jillian. You chose your career over me—and didn’t give me the respect to talk to me about it first.”

  “A big scene wasn’t part of the deal. Be fair,” Jillian said. “We were never meant to be serious.”

  Cole took a step closer to her. “What was part of it?” he asked.

  Jillian leaned back against the counter as she looked up into his eyes. “What?”

  “It. Us. Whatever we were,” he said, his eyes dipping down to her mouth.

  She licked at it with the tip of her tongue. “It was just sex. Great sex,” she whispered into the heat rising between them. “No strings. Remember?”

  “Oh. I remember. I wish I could forget,” Cole said, looking tortured as he gripped her waist and easily lifted her to sit atop the counter.

  She spread her legs and reached to press her hands against his shoulders before gripping his T-shirt. “Cole,” she gasped in that hot little moment before he dipped his head to kiss her mouth.

  The first feel of his lips was electrifying. She shivered and clung to him with the jolt as they pressed their upper bodies together and deepened the kiss with a moan that burst with their hunger for one another. With each passing second, their movements rushed—almost wild and desperate as they undressed each other. Unbuttoning. Unzipping. Pulling up, over. Yanking down. Until they were nude. And panting between kisses.

  He put hands on either side of her atop the counter as he looked at her with heated eyes. She rubbed his sides with her knees as she leaned in to lick at his lips. He caught her tongue and sucked it deeply into his mouth before releasing it to press kisses to her neck and the deep valley between her breasts.

  “Cole,” she moaned in sweet agony, flinging her head back.

  Each lick of his tongue against a taut brown nipple made her shiver and cry out.

  Each deep suckle led to her arching her back as if to offer him more to taste. To enjoy. To have.

  She reached between them to grip his inches—gasping at the heat and the hardness.

  He hissed in pleasure as she stroked him. With a grunt, he rolled his hips, thrusting his tool against her palm as he wildly licked at her breasts. “Jillian... Jillian... Jillian,” he moaned.

  “Now, Cole,” she gasped, needing him to ease the throbbing ache of desire. “Now.”

  He honored her demand and used his narrow hips to guide his smooth tip into her swiftly with one deep thrust.

  She cried out and arched her back at the feel of him. The hardness. The heat. The perfect snug fit. The strokes. She ached and pulsed in places she had ignored as she had longed for only his touch and denied seeking pleasure with anyone else. And in the heat, it all was so achingly familiar. She leaned into it. Accepting the unique connection they shared—setting aside doubts and any promises or deals made to claim her desire for this man. Along with her passion, her heart swelled with emotion for him as she felt the wave of her climax rise.

  No longer could she deny the truth to herself or to him. “I love you, Cole,” she whimpered as she gasped with each of his deep, long, and strong strokes. “I love you so much.”

  Cole stiffened and stopped midstroke. Sweat dripped from his body onto hers as he stared at her.

  Still releasing deep breaths with his hardness deep inside her as she clutched and released him with her walls, she looked up. Her eyes searched his as she waited for the next words that would come out of his beautiful mouth.

  “Don’t do that, Jillian,” Cole said, his voice stern.

  Damn.

  * * *

  There was no more glorious sight to Cole than Jillian naked, her eyes glazed, mouth panting, and breasts pointed high, his hardness buried deep within her. But she’d ruined it with her declaration of love. The very last thing he wanted was to be toyed with or placated.

  When he’d first spotted Jillian with another man, his undeniable jealousy had rushed at him. It had conquered any other emotion and distracted him from his work. Thoughts of another man enjoying her sexuality had plagued him.

  “Do what?” she asked as she continued to use the inner walls of her intimacy to clutch and release his inches.

  “Use the love card,” he countered with a quickness. “You didn’t love me. Love would’ve led to you choosing me and not a job.”

  “I do love you. I didn’t realize it until I’d lost you—”

  “Tossed me aside,” he countered.

  “Cole, I didn’t know,” she said, sitting upright to press kisses to his chin and mouth. “I thought we could just walk away from each other and it would mean nothing, but it does. I can’t stop thinking of you and missing you and wanting you. I dream of you inside me. Deeply. So deep. Just like now.”

  Her words, kisses and touches were irrefutable. His body was caught in her trap and he didn’t want to escape. Her tongue dipped inside his mouth and touched his. That caused him to shiver. She began to work her hips back and forth, sending her sliding on his inches. He got harder.

  “Jillian,” he moaned into her mouth as he gripped her hips.

  She pressed her lush breasts against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Did you miss me, Cole?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

  He refused to answer even as he enjoyed the feel of her core easing back and forth on him.

  Jillian kissed a trail to his ear and sucked the lobe. “Do you forgive me, Cole?” she whispered.

  He shivered but bit down on his bottom lip to keep quiet.

  “Don’t you want me back, Cole?” she asked as she eased her core to his throbbing tip and paused to kiss it with her lips before easing down onto him again.

  He flung his head back and released a hoarse cry. She knew all too well how sensitive his tip was.

  Jillian smiled as she drew her knees up to her shoulders, causing her walls to tighten along on his hardness.

  He drew his lips into a circle and gave her a long stare he knew was intense. “Jillian...” he warned.

  “Oh, so you can talk,” she said lightly before circling her hips clockwise and then counterclockwise.

  Just the sight of the snakelike movement of her hips was an enticing as the feel of her. He winced as he pressed his hands to his face. No one knew his body, and how to arouse him, like Jillian. But, in turn, he knew her just as well. And he felt like being a little more in control.

  He had to, or Jillian would know the truth that he could no longer deny.

  The root of his anger was the aching of his heart.

  He lowered his hands to her hips to stop the hypnotic, rhythmic motion.

  Ji
llian leaned back to look at him.

  Their eyes searched each other’s faces.

  Cole lowered his lids slightly as the look in her eyes shifted from desire to something more profound. More vulnerable. More revealing. Raw. Real.

  His heart skipped a beat and he felt his feelings for her tighten his chest. The battle whether to trust her or not raged within him. “What more do you want from me? From my family?” he asked, his voice as hard as the inches still buried inside her.

  Her eyes filled with remorse and glistened with unshed tears. “Let me love you,” she whispered on a breath before closing her eyes and shaking her head with her regret.

  Damn.

  Her pain caused the same in him. It pierced.

  Jillian opened her eyes, her lashes damp with tears she’d held in, and looked at him. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “You really care about me, too, Cole,” she said.

  He shut his eyes.

  She pressed her hands to his face and kissed his mouth. Gently. Lovingly.

  “Don’t you have a deal to keep with my mother?” he said. He tilted his head back to avoid her tempting kisses and to attempt to hold steadfast to anger that was fading.

  “I choose you,” she said.

  “Too late,” he said.

  “Cole,” she said, revealing a streak of frustration with him.

  He surprised himself by the urge to chuckle and was relieved when he didn’t.

  Again, she started to rotate her hips. He was unable to deny that he missed her in his bed, but he also yearned for the sound of her laughter and her free-spirited nature in his life. “I don’t believe you are in love with me,” he admitted as he shifted his hands to grip her buttocks.

  Jillian lowered one arm across his back and settled the other on his shoulder as she kissed one side of his mouth and then the other.

  “I will prove it to you, Cole Cress,” she whispered against his lips.

  He lightly gripped the back of her neck and kissed her deeply, wanting to eat her words. She moaned from the back of her throat as he sucked her tongue and delivered a thrust that eased the rest of his inches inside her until she was full with him.