Текст книги "Crashed"

Автор книги: K. Bromberg

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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 31 страниц)

He pulls back and looks at me, eyes intense. “Why now, Ry? Because of you. Because I’ve pushed and pulled and hurt you way too much … and despite all of that, you’ve fought for me—to keep me, to help me, to heal me, to race me—and for once in my life, I want someone to do that for me. And I want to be free to do that for someone else. I …” He sighs trying to find the words to match the emotion swimming in his eyes. Eyes still haunted on the fringes but so much less now than ever before, and that alone eases the ache in my soul. “I want the chance to prove I’m capable of it. That all of this …” he says with an irrelevant wave of his hand, “didn’t rob me of that. That I can be who you need and give you what you want,” his voice pleads.

I hear the sadness from his confessions still tingeing his voice, but I can also hear hope and possibility woven in there as well. And it’s such a welcome sound that I purse my lips and press them against his.

I can still feel the emotion shuddering through him as he slips his tongue between my parted and willing lips to deepen the kiss. I can still sense him trying to grasp this new ground he’s trying to find his footing on, but I know that he’ll find it.

Because he’s a fighter.

Always has been.

Always will be.

CHAPTER 36

I glance over to him watching the light of the streetlights play over the angles of his face as I sing softly to Lifehouse’s Everything on the radio. It’s late, but time was of no importance as we sat together in the grandstands laying old wounds to rest and bringing new beginnings to the table. Sammy’s driving my car to the house but as Colton and I exit the freeway in the Range Rover, I realize we’re not going home just yet.

Home.

What a crazy notion. That I’m going home with Colton, because right now, after tonight, the word means so much more than just a brick and mortar building. It means comfort and healing and Colton. My ace. I sigh, my chest tightening with love.

I look over at him again and he must feel the weight of my stare because he glances over at me with eyes still slightly red from crying. They lock on mine momentarily as he smiles softly and then shakes his head subtly, as if he’s still trying to process the events of the past few hours before looking back at the road. But I keep my eyes on him because I know deep down that’s where they’ll always land no matter where else they look.

I’m so deep in thought I don’t even recognize our location when Colton pulls into a parking lot and puts the car in park. “There’s something I’ve gotta do. Come with me?”

I look at him confused about what we’re doing at eleven o’clock at night in some random parking lot in the outskirts of Hollywood. Obviously it’s important because after tonight all I can think of is that he’s probably exhausted and just wants to go home. “Of course.”

We exit the car and I look around, a little leery leaving such a nice car in this rundown, poorly lit lot, but Colton is completely unfazed. He pulls me in close to his side and leads me toward a very formidable wooden door that looks like it came straight out of the medieval times. Colton opens it and I’m immediately confronted with bright lights, music playing softly, and a strangely unique buzzing sound.

I whip my head over to Colton, who’s watching me with a bemused curiosity. He just chuckles and shakes his head at my slack jawed reaction and widening eyes.

I’ve never even stepped foot in one of these places before. Deep down a part of me knows why we’re here, but it doesn’t make sense.

Colton links his fingers with mine as we walk down a narrow hallway toward a room where there are bright lights. Colton crosses the threshold ahead of me and stops momentarily until the buzzing ceases.

“Well motherfucking cocksuck! The fucking wonder boy pays a visit,” a rumbling voice yells out, and Colton laughs before being pulled farther into the room. “Well goddamn, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Wood!”

I watch as arms, sleeved in a variety of colors and images, wrap around Colton and bring him in for a quick hug. I see a pair of hazel eyes catch sight of me over Colton’s shoulder.

“Oh fucking shit! I’m so sorry about all of the fucking cussing,” the voice belonging to the eyes says as he shoves Colton backwards and steps toward me. “Dude, if you bring a fucking lady in here you need to make sure to give me warning so I can be respectable and shit!”

Colton laughs as the man wipes his hand off on his jeans before reaching it out to shake mine. My eyes roam over the heavy set, tattoo riddled man with closely cropped hair and a long unruly beard, but what I find the most endearing is the blush staining his cheeks. It’s actually quite adorable, but I doubt he’d be amused if I said that right now.

“So fucking sorry! Christ, I just did it again,” he shakes his head with a wheeze of a laugh and I can’t help but smile.

“No worries,” I tell him, lifting a chin over toward Colton. “His mouth’s just as bad. I’m Rylee.”

“Okay, well I’ll try to keep the fucking to a minimum,” he says and then blushes again. “I mean—not with you of course—well unless you wanted to because then—”

“Don’t even think about it, Sledge,” Colton warns with a laugh as Sledge, I assume, shakes his head and just laughs that unique laugh of his again before ushering us into the tattoo parlor.

“So, dude, really?” Sledge asks Colton.

“Yeah.” He looks over to me and smiles. “Really.” And I’m completely lost.

“Whatever yanks your dick man,” he says, shaking his head as he walks over to a counter and starts rifling through some papers. “Speaking about yanking dicks and shit …” He glances over at me and his face scrunches up in apology before continuing to look for something. “How’s that fine ass sister of yours that I’d love to have yank mine, among other things.”

I expect Colton to freak out, but he just throws his head back and bellows out a laugh. His reaction makes me realize these two go way back.

“She’d eat you alive and you know it, dude … you’re such a pussy.”

“Fuck you!” Sledge laughs as Colton starts pulling his shirt over his head. And even with so many new sights to take in here, I can’t tear my eyes from his chiseled abdomen. I take in the four symbols—representations of his past—and wonder what he’s going to do now.

“Yeah … quite the hard ass,” Colton teases as he ushers me to a chair and presses a chaste kiss on my lips. He looks me in the eye for a moment, as if to say trust me, before sitting down in a chair himself. “The inked up man who listens to Barbara Streisand and keeps his five pussies in the back room.” What in the hell is he talking about? “Didn’t you know, if you’re gonna pretend to be a badass you need to listen to death metal and have a man-eating pit bull instead of enough cats to rival an old spinster.” Colton is laughing, carefree even, and I love that whoever this contradiction of a man is brings this out in Colton.

“I’m a delicate flower!” Sledge quips before yelling out, “A-ha!”

“Flower my ass!” Colton says, shaking his head and laughing as Sledge walks over to him with a piece of paper in his hand. “That it?” Colton asks, and I straighten my posture to try and see what’s on it. He stares at it a moment, lips pursing, head subtly bobbing as he considers it. “You sure? It’ll really work?” He flicks his eyes up at Sledge, his expression reinforcing the question.

“Like you have to fucking ask. Oops, there I go again with the fucking.” He raises his eyebrows as he glances over to me in a silent apology. “Dude, if I’m gonna stain you, I’m gonna research it to make sure.”

“Like Google research or bottom of a bottle research?” Colton asks.

“Get out of my fucking chair!” Sledge teases, throwing his arm toward the direction of the door before looking over at me. “You really put up with this shit on a daily basis?”

I nod my head and laugh as Colton leans forward and stares at me, and for a second I see sadness flicker there but it goes away just as quickly as it came. “Ryles?”

“Yeah?” I scoot to the edge of my seat, still curious what the paper has on it.

“Time to lay the demons to rest,” he says, his eyes locked on mine, “and move on.”

I force myself to look away from his eyes and down to the sketch of curved, interlinking lines. I know the symbol is a Celtic knot and it’s similar but different to the others, but I don’t know why it’s significant.

I look up from the paper, my eyes beseeching Colton’s for an explanation. “New beginnings,” he says, his eyes telling me he’s ready, “…rebirth.”

I suck in a breath, my eyes burning with tears, the significance of the symbol is so poignant I can’t find the words to speak so I just nod.

“Okay, I get you’re all fucking lovey-dovey and shit, but I’m itching to cause you some fucking pain, Wood, so scoot your ass back,” he says, pressing Colton’s shoulders back and winking at me with a smirk. “Because you ain’t gonna have a chance to be reborn, motherfucker, if you sit and stare at her so long that you fucking die in the meantime.”

I laugh, my love for this man I just met is already profound. Colton complies but not without a comeback. “Dude, you’re just jealous!”

“Fuck yeah, I am. I’m sure that she can...” he stalls, eyes darting back to me and then down to where he’s busy setting up his supplies “...whip up a mean bowl of macaroni and cheese.” He chortles out that laugh again.

“Damn straight,” Colton says, slapping him on the shoulders. “Nice and creamy.”

I choke on my breath the same time Sledge does, both of our faces staining red with embarrassment. I give Colton a disbelieving look and shake my head while mischief glimmers in his eyes. And the sight of it—troublemaker in full effect—makes me smile even brighter.

“Just for that I oughta give you a fucking pansy instead …” He shakes his head as the needle buzzes to life and Colton jolts at the sound. Sledge throws his head back and laughs a deep belly rumble. “Pansy ass motherfucker! Oops, there’s a heart. Oops, there’s a vagina. Oops, there’s a daisy!” Sledge teases pretending to place the needle on Colton’s body.

I am dying with laughter, so desperately needing this humor after the heaviness of our night.

“Oops, there’s a boot up your ass, is more like it.” Colton starts laughing but stops the minute Sledge angles the needle near his side. I’ve never seen anyone get a tattoo before and I’m quite curious. I stand and walk over to an empty chair next to Colton so I can watch.

I don’t even look at first—can’t as I see Colton’s body tense and his breath hiss out as the needle touches him for the first time.

“God nothing changes,” Sledge says, exasperation in his voice. “Once a puss, always a puss.” The buzzing stops and he lifts his head to look up at Colton. “Seriously, dude? If I’ve gotta worry about you shivering like a fucking chihuahua, then we’re gonna have some serious fucking issues and I’m not gonna claim this job as mine.”

Colton just lifts a hand and flashes Sledge his middle finger before flicking his eyes over to me and then closing them as the needle starts again. This time the buzz remains steady, and after Colton relaxes some, I move around to the other side of Sledge to test if I can handle watching him draw Colton’s blood. And when I get the courage to finally look down, I’m confused.

Sledge’s needle is working over the symbol for vengeance. He’s cut dark red lines that make me cringe at the thought of what that must feel like against Colton’s rib cage. I look up to find Colton’s eyes locked on mine as I try to figure out what’s going on.

“Sledge figured out how to overlay the new knot on top of vengeance.”

“Vengeance is gone,” I whisper, and for some reason this concept is so moving to me that I just stand there, lips parted, head shaking, and eyes watching Sledge reconfigure a concept that would only destroy Colton further and give him one filled with hope instead.

“Time to lay the demons to rest.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat at Colton’s words and reach out to hold his hand as we watch the slow transformation of one of his inked scars. One that is now a symbol of hope and healing.

After some time and more ribbing between the two of them—along with me falling further in love with Sledge—Colton’s tattoo has been transformed.

“I want to see it before you bandage it up,” Colton says as Sledge slathers it with petroleum jelly. “Go pet your pussies and make sure you didn’t sneak any hearts or rainbows in there somewhere since you kept blocking my view, you fucker.” Colton stands from the chair and I notice the time it takes to steady himself from the after effects of his accident is a lot shorter now. He heads off to the back room where the mirror is.

And I don’t know what it is—maybe the events of the night or maybe the hope weaving its way into our lives—but my decision’s made before Colton even clears the door to the back. I have to act now before I lose the courage, before my rational head catches up with my irrational heart.

Before I chicken out.

“Hey, Sledge,” I say as I sit down in the chair Colton’s vacated, pulling the elastic band of my exercise pants down over my hip bone, and point there. “I think it’s the perfect time to get my first tattoo. I want the same thing only a lot smaller.”

He looks over at me, eyes dancing and startled. “Darlin’, when I said fucking, I didn’t think you’d offer, much less bring your pants down for it with Wood in the back fucking room.” He winks at me and smiles before staring into my eyes. “You trying to get me killed?”

I laugh. “He’ll go easy. I think he has a soft spot for you, Sledge.”

“Yeah soft spot in his head more like it.” He just licks his lips and looks down at my hip before back up to my eyes, concern and uncertainty in his. “You sure? It’s kinda permanent,” he questions with an amused raise of an eyebrow. I nod my head before I lose the courage to go through with it—to prove to Colton that I want to be there for him every step of the way on this journey.

Sledge laughs and rubs his hands together. “I always love being the first to touch virgin skin. Makes my fucking balls tighten up and shit …” He blows out a breath. “Fucking shit, I’m sorry. Again.” He shakes his head as he starts to trace the image on my hipbone after looking up at me to make sure it’s where I want it.

“You positive?” he asks again, and I nod because I’m so frickin’ nervous I can barely force a swallow down my throat.

I’m not a tattoo type of girl, I tell myself, so why am I doing this? And then I realize I’m not a bad boy kind of girl either. Look how wrong I was with that assumption.

I jolt when the needle buzzes on, my breath hitching and body vibrating with anxious anticipation. I bite my bottom lip and fist my hands as the first sting hits me. Holy shit! It hurts so much more than I expected. Don’t wimp out, don’t wimp out, I repeat over and over in my head to try and drown out the needle that’s stinging my hip like a bitch. And my chant doesn’t ease the pain so I close my eyes and exhale a breath, nodding at Sledge to continue because I’m okay when he stops and looks up to check on me.

I don’t hear him or see him, but I know the minute that Colton re-enters the room because I can feel him. His energy, our connection, his pull on me has me opening my eyes and lock on his instantly.

The look on his face is priceless—shock, pride, disbelief—as he steps closer to see around Sledge’s hands. I know when he sees it because I hear him suck in a startled gasp before his eyes flash up to mine.

“New beginnings.” It’s all I say as I watch the emotion dance in his sparks of green.

“You know that’s permanent, right?” he murmurs, shaking his head at me, still floored by what I’m doing.

“Yeah,” I say, reaching out to lace my fingers with his, “kinda like we are.”

CHAPTER 37

I can’t help but laugh and feel sentimental as Colton finishes explaining the whole alphabet comment he’d made earlier. The lighthearted sound from Colton makes me content, causes me to remember the dark days in the hospital when all I wanted was to hear that sound again, and the request is out of my mouth before I think twice. “Can we have ice cream for breakfast?”

Colton’s hand stills on my thigh as he stutters out a laugh. “What?” I love the look on his face right now. Carefree, careless, and unburdened from the secrets that are no longer between us.

I just smile at him lying on his side next to me as I adjust the pillow behind me and lie back, sighing, his amused eyes still staring at me. Music plays overhead as I shrug at him, suddenly feeling silly for my comment. It’s just that I feel like everything is coming full circle. Things I said I wanted to do, I needed to do, promises I made when he was lying in that hospital bed, I need to keep.

“Yes, ice cream for breakfast,” I tell him, wincing as I move and my panties tug on the bandage over my new tattoo—the tattoo my mother is going to kill me over when she finds out about it. But the sudden startled look in his eyes pulls me from my thoughts and causes me to lean forward to look at him closer, curious as to what just put it there. He stares back at me momentarily, and then after blinking his eyes a few times as if he’s trying to figure something out, he just shakes his head and smiles at me, melting my heart, and confirming that I have absolutely no regrets.

About being with him or the tattoo I just got to prove it.

Of the ups and the downs that our relationship has gone through, endured, persevered, and come out stronger for.

None of it, because it brought us here to this point—right here, right now.

Healing together and loving one another.

Taking the first steps toward our future.

He angles his head on his hand propped on his elbow beneath him and quirks his lips. “Well, what the woman wants, the woman gets.”

“I like the sound of that,” I say, wiggling my hips, “because I have a whole lot of wants, Mr. Donavan.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?” He raises his eyebrows, a lascivious smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the edge of my bandage. He looks up at me, lust and so much more dancing in the depths of his eyes as he slowly crawls his way up my body until his lips are inches from mine.

And my God, do I want to lean in and taste those lips and feel my skin hum to life from his touch, but I opt for one more request before losing myself in him, to him. “For dinner, I want—”

“Pancakes.” Colton finishes my sentence. “Ice cream for breakfast and pancakes for dinner. I remember hearing you say that.” His voice is filled with awed reverence as my heart soars at the revelation that he heard me when he was unconscious in the hospital. I watch him try to process everything with a soft shake of his head. “You talked a lot,” he murmurs, leaning closer to my lips but not touching, and I know he’s smiling because I can see the lines bunch around his eyes.

“So we have our menu planned for tomorr—”

Colton leans forward and captures my mouth with his in a soft kiss. “It’s time to stop talking, Ryles,” he says as he leans back to look me in the eyes, humor and unguarded love reflected in them.

“Colton,” I say, arching my back to try and brush my breasts against his bare chest because everything in my body at this moment is desperate for his touch, his taste, the connection between us. And when he stays still and doesn’t move, I reach out and grab the back of his neck, trying to pull him into me, but he doesn’t move.

He just remains motionless, staring at me with such intensity. And for the first time I understand what he meant when he told me I was the first one to ever really see him—to see into the depths of his soul—because right now there’s nothing I can hide from him. Absolutely nothing. Our connection is that strong, that irrefutable.

It’s been such an emotional evening, more so for him than for me, but my body is humming for a physical release. It’s vibrating with need and all I want is him.

“Rylee …” It’s that one word plea of my name on his lips that gets me every time.

“Don’t Rylee me,” I implore as I watch concern edge the desire from his eyes. I move my hands to frame his cheeks and hold him still so he has no option but to hear me. “I’m fine, Colton.”

“I’m so afraid I’m going to hurt you …” His voice fades and the concern that floods it makes every part of me slip further under his tidal wave of love.

“No, baby, no. You’re not going to hurt me.” I lean forward and brush my lips to his and then lean back until I can see his eyes again. “You not wanting to be with me, that hurts me. Destroys me. I need you, Colton, every side of you—physical and emotional. After tonight, after we’ve stripped away everything that’s been keeping us apart, I need to share this with you. Connect in every way possible because it’s the only way I can truly show you how I feel about you. Show you what you do to me.”

I can hear his shuddered exhale moments before the heat of it hits my lips. His hand flexes on my bicep and then softens as if he wants and then doesn’t want at the same moment. He just stares at me, indecision written across his face. And then that muscle pulses in his jaw, his last tell of resistance, because the desire clouding his eyes tells me his decision has already been made.

When he leans in to kiss me, I don’t think victory has ever tasted so sweet.

His lips brush softly against mine, once, twice, and then his tongue delves between my lips and licks against mine. He slides his hands behind my back and gathers me against him while our tongues dance a seductive ballet. His hands find their way beneath the hem of my shirt and then tease my bare skin as he draws my shirt up and over my head.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as we part so my shirt can clear my face and then our lips find each other’s again. I release my tangled grip on the back of his hair and scrape my fingernails down the steeled muscles of his biceps, his body responding, tensing to my touch. The guttural moan he emits from the back of his throat turns me on, entices me, has me wanting and needing more.

Desire coils and need springs with each passing second, my thighs clenching together, my breath coming faster. “Colton,” I murmur as his lips travel down my jawline to the pleasure point just beneath my ear that has me arching my back and moaning out loud on contact, heated warmth on willing flesh. His hands scrape over my rib cage and cup my breasts, already weighted with desire. Sensations spiral into and then through every part of me.

“Fuck, Ry, you test a man’s control. I’ve been craving the taste of that sweet pussy of yours. That sound you make when I bury my cock in you. The feel of you coming around me.”

He groans as I slide my hands between his shorts and grip his heated flesh. And as incendiary as his words are, as much as they stoke the fires already raging out of control, there’s an added tenderness in his touch that’s a stark contrast to their explicitness.

“I want every inch of you trembling, fucking shaking, begging for me to take you, Ry, because fuck if I won’t be doing the same. I want to be your sigh, your moan, your cry out in pleasure and every fucking sound in between.” He leans in and nips my lip, and I can feel him quiver, and know that he’s just as affected as I am.

“I want to feel you. Your fingernails digging into my shoulders. Your thighs tense around mine as I drive you closer.” He breathes out, the dominance of his tone fringed with a raw necessity has my entire body vibrating with need. “I want to see your toes curl as they push against my chest. Want to watch your mouth fall open and your eyes close when it becomes too much—the pleasure so fucking intense—because, baby, I want to know I make you feel that way. I want to know you feel just as fucking alive inside as you make me.”

And I can’t take it anymore, his words the most seductive foreplay for my body that’s already craving his touch. I pull him toward me, hesitancy a distant memory. Our bodies and hearts crash together as we fall back on the bed beneath us as hands and mouths explore, taste, and tempt.

I force him on his back by scoring my nails down his chest, his muscles tensing and throat humming with a desperate groan. My mouth traces a languorous trail down the line of his neck, over the ridged muscles of his abdomen scrunching and flexing with each lick of my tongue or scrape of my fingers. I kiss my way down one side of his sexy as hell V and then back up the other side, cautious of his freshly tattooed rib cage as my fingertips find and encircle his steeled length through his shorts.

I look up and meet his eyes, clouded with desire and weighted with emotion, as I pull down his shorts. I kiss my way down the tiny line of hair and then move down and tease the crest of his dick with the wet, warmth of my lips. His cock pulses against my lips as he hisses out, “Fuck!” The drawn out way he says the word encourages me to take him further into my mouth, and press my tongue to the underside as I slide down and take him deeper.

His hands sitting idly on the bed clench into fists, and his hips twitch as I slide him back out until just his tip is in my mouth. I roll my tongue around it, paying special attention to the nerves on the underside, before sliding back down until he hits the back of my throat. In an instant, his hands are fisting my hair as pleasure overtakes him. “Sweet Christ,” he pants out between labored breaths as I continue to work him with my mouth. “So fucking good.”

Fingertips tease his sensitive skin beneath, tickling and pressing, as I hollow my cheeks out with each slide down and subsequent suck back out. I look up at him and can’t help the satisfied smile that tries to form despite his place in my mouth. Colton’s head is thrown back, lips pulled tight in pleasure, and the muscles are strained in his neck. The sight of him slowly coming undone would have me wet and wanting if I wasn’t already.

I fist my hand around him and work it in circular motions while I bob my head up and down over the remainder of him. He groans, turning to steel in my mouth, and in an instant he is dragging me up the length of him, my nipples aching from the skin on skin contact.

His mouth is on mine the minute my lips are within reach, a greedy clash of lips, tongues, and teeth as he dominates the kiss, taking what he wants even though I’m giving it up more than willingly. He shifts our position in the blink of an eye so I am on my back, atop the pillows propped behind me. He scrapes his eyes down the length of my torso, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he looks at my panties and then back up at me.

“I’m out of practice,” he says with a shake of his head and a flash of his lone dimple. And then despite the carnal need raking though every one of my nerves, I can’t help the laugh that falls from my lips as the fabric of my panties is ripped in half. “There,” he says, lowering his mouth to my abdomen and pressing a kiss there. “Much better.”

And it’s not the kiss in itself, but the unexpectedness of his lips holding still momentarily, just below my navel, that sobers the moment for me. But at the same time, makes it that much sweeter. His eyes are closed and his lips are pressed atop the womb that held his child, and chills immediately race across my anticipatory flesh.

After a moment, his lips make their torturously slow ascent up my rib cage to my breast. I can feel his heated breath, the slide of his tongue, the suction of his mouth as he closes over my nipple, and I cry out involuntarily. The sensations his mouth evokes are like a lightning strike to my sex, my inhibitions singed and body lit afire.

“Colton,” I pant as the ache in my core intensifies and fingernails score the skin on his shoulders as his mouth pleasures and hints at things to come. When my nipples are tightened and teased so thoroughly they’re on the edge of pain, he moves back up my body. One of his hands fists in the back of my hair, holding my curls hostage, while the other slides down my body and slips between my legs.

I hold my breath in that space of time between feeling his fingers move my thighs apart and them actually touching me. Lungs robbed of air and body full of anticipation, Colton brands his mouth to mine in a soul-searing, gravity-defying kiss, and just when it leaves my head spinning and desire spiraling out of control, his fingers part me and stake their claim. His mouth captures the moan he coaxes from me as my nerves are expertly manipulated. Heat ignites and a rapturous moan emanates from the back of my throat as I am entirely consumed and completely undone by Colton.

His fingers coated in my arousal slide back out and up to add friction to my already throbbing clit. “Ah!” I can’t help the garbled cry as his fingers connect, sensations overwhelm, and emotions swell. His fingers stroke and his mouth tempts the skin along my neck as my body climbs the wave at a rapid pace. My nipples tighten and thighs tense as desire ricochets through me and then comes back to hit me ten times harder.

And I am lost. Stepping into an oblivion that’s assaulting all my senses, and overwhelming all thoughts. My hands grip his arms and my hips buck as my body detonates into a million splinters of pleasure. The only thing I hear besides my pulse thundering in my ears is a satisfied groan falling from his lips.

Within a second of riding out the last wave of my orgasm, Colton is shifting, pushing my thighs apart with his knees as he places the head of his cock against my still pulsing entrance.

And then it hits me—breaks through my hazy state of desire—and shocks me back to my senses. I push against his chest, shaking my head. “Colton … we need a condom …” I tell him, reality hitting me stronger than the climax tremors still rumbling through me.

Colton’s body tenses and his head snaps up from where he’s watching our connection. He angles his head and just stares at me, the only sounds in the room are my still shuddered breathing and the soft strains of Stolen on the speakers overhead. But the way he looks at me—as if I am his next draw of breath—halts any further protests from my lips.