Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

Cooper chuckled and looked around our small group with an appreciative smile on his face. The moment his gaze left mine, I missed it. Damn this man was addictive. He took the cupcake Rebecca held out for him and dragged his finger through the top of the frosting. “I feel so special.”
    I stepped closer. “That’s because you are.” There was no hesitation when Cooper offered me his sugary-dipped finger. Steadying his hand, I licked at the frosting before gently sucking the tip into my mouth.
    It was difficult to know who reacted first—me, as the sweetness hit my tongue, or Cooper leaning in for a quick kiss.
    “Hey! I slaved in a hot kitchen all afternoon to make that for you, birthday boy. Show a little respect!” Rebecca yelled, fretting over the cupcake precariously held in Cooper’s hand. Things were about to get messy. His free hand reached to cup my face and he crushed his mouth down on mine.
    Somewhere in the background, I vaguely heard Marty’s murmur that his girlfriend was a liar, that they’d bought the treat at the bakery, and to leave his best friend alone. I didn’t care because all I could feel was the glorious sensation that followed any time Cooper touched me.
    My whole body tingled—eager and responsive.
    Greedy.
    Gone was any trace of frosting as his tongue swept into my mouth, tangling with mine.  A pulsating wildfire burst through me and it forced me to grip the front of his shirt—whether it was to keep me from toppling over or to ensure Cooper didn’t move, I didn’t care.
    All that mattered was this .
    Him.
    I knew he felt the same. You couldn’t kiss someone the way he did and remain unaffected. I didn’t mean physically, either.  Anyone could move their mouth over another’s, perfecting the mechanics of the act.
    No. There was more to what we shared. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was more. It involved hearts, and minds, and the romantic in me screamed it was the perfect opportunity to bare the soul.
    Part of me warned that I was being delusional, that guys didn’t think that way—that for whatever reason, they weren’t made to be soft and wistful. Women often spoke about how society weakened them, but that wasn’t what made my heart ache.
    It was the unrelenting pressure for men to never show their emotions. Somewhere, over time, this mistake was adopted as truth, stripping away the very thing that made them strong—disguising it as a weakness that needed immediate crushing and obliteration.
    There was nothing weak about how Cooper made me feel, whether in this brilliant moment or others. I savored everything—whatever he felt brave enough to show and give me.
    This kiss.
    This glorious kiss.
    This spoke volumes of who he was and who he believed us to be. It spoke of tearing down the walls he’d erected out of protection and being okay with it.
    Each kiss—whether they were the languid ones after our tender lovemaking or like this, the just because I need to —was another piece of himself he was offering.
    I didn’t hesitate to take them.
    Whether this was all in my head and I’d create something more fanciful out of his affections, it didn’t matter. I wanted it all, every last touch, smile, and whisper. He was mine and I would never complain, even if it meant drowning in the sweet heat of his mouth, surrounded by a bar filled with strangers while our friends waited impatiently for us to stop.
    I was selfish when it came to him and I would never apologize for that.
    It came with the territory of being head-over-heels in love.
    “Wow,” I murmured. I felt a little dazed as Cooper traced his fingers one last time over my cheek. Gazing up into his stubbled features, it helped knowing I wasn’t the only one affected. He might believe he was a master of control and hiding his emotions, but I’d discovered a way to see beyond his façade. It was all in his eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m the special one?”
    “Because you are, darlin’.”
    “And so are we . . .