CHAPTER 23
“We don’t have to fix each other. Come over. We don’t have to say forever. Come over.” I hum along with the Kenny Chesney song that is playing softly, ironically, on the speakers of the Range Rover as we drive north along the coast on Pacific Coast Highway. I smile at the coincidence that Colton had texted me this song earlier in the day, and now it is playing on the radio as one of his security staff named Sammy drives me to wherever he is.
I reach beside me at my bag, rifling through the change of clothes and miscellaneous toiletries I presumptuously packed. I pull out my compact mirror to check my reflection. My hair is piled on the top of my head in a stylish yet effortless disarray of curls with several wisps hanging loosely around my face and onto my nape. I set down my compact and bring my hands back to check the tie on my neck where the straps of my blue maxi dress meet, leaving my back bare until just below my shoulder blades. I say a silent thank you to Haddie for her suggestion to wear the dress. Cute, casual, and just enough cleavage to keep him sneaking a peak she had told me over our second glass of wine.
As we drive north, the lush hills on my right give way to the ocean on our left. I place a hand over my stomach to try and settle the butterflies fluttering there for some odd reason. I shouldn’t be nervous to see Colton, but I am. Inexplicably I feel that tonight is going to be a turning point for whatever “we” are. I lean my head back and look out the window at the endless sea and hope that I can handle the repercussions of whatever that turning point may be. I close my eyes momentarily and wonder how an intelligent woman like me can knowingly walk into foreseeable devastation.
Taylor Swift’s “Red” is playing when we start through the town of Malibu. I listen to the words, relating to them. “Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street.” I shake my head, feeling like that dead end is going to come so much quicker than I want it to when it comes to Colton. Against my better judgment, I’m pressing the gas pedal trying to see where this takes us instead of slamming on the brakes.
Sammy turns left onto a street, the sign reading Broadbeach Road, and I am pulled from my thoughts to survey the neighborhood. Expensive houses line my left, bordering the coveted Malibu shoreline. Houses range in style from modern to Cape Cod to old world, with perfectly manicured landscaping and most behind gated walls.
Within moments we have turned up to a driveway where large wooden gates are swinging open for us. We pull through the gates onto a cobblestone and grass driveway and come to a stop. Sammy escorts me from the car and I look up at the two-story structure in front of me. It has an impenetrable-looking ledge stone façade, the top portion shaped like a stretched letter ‘U’ where an open-air deck sits between two sections of the house. There is an absence of windows on the walls that face me, giving it a formidable edge, and I can infer that the opposing walls are solely glass to showcase the Pacific. At ground level below the deck is a massive arched wooden door, and my eyes are drawn to it as it slowly opens.
Colton stands in the open doorway, stopping me in my tracks when a slow, lazy smile lifts one corner of his mouth. The sight of him is like a sucker punch to my abdomen. I struggle to breathe as I drink him in. He is all kinds of sexy, wearing a pair of worn blue jeans, faded black t-shirt, and bare feet. I’m not sure why the sight of his bare feet peeking out from beneath his pant legs is so attractive to me, but its worth another glance. I regain my wits despite the humming of nerves and start moving toward him again as his eyes do a languorous appraisal of my body. I reach the doorway and stop in front of him, my smile matching his.
“I told you I’d hurt you and yet here you are,” he murmurs captivated, astonishment flickering through his green eyes. His words sink into me and before I have a chance to process them, he reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me against him. My hands land on his chest feeling every bit of muscle beneath the incredibly soft cotton of his shirt. “Hi,” he breathes, a shy smile on his lips and eyes steadfast on mine.
“Hi,” is all I can manage before he leans in and brushes a slow, tantalizing kiss on my lips that speaks of the possibilities this evening holds. When he pulls away, every nerve in my body is humming.
“Beautiful as always, Rylee,” he praises taking my hand and ushering me in the door. “Welcome to my home.”
The significance of his statement is not lost on me. This is his home. Not a place he brings his sometimes girl. I can’t help wondering if he has invited me here to prove a point. To demonstrate that maybe he is trying since I am.
All thoughts leave my head as we enter the great room of the house. I am met with an unhindered view of a beautiful terrace and the ocean beyond. Glass pocket doors have been slid aside, leaving the house open to the subtle breeze blowing in off of the water. My gasp is audible as I step past him without invitation and out onto the deck to admire the sight for several moments. “It’s beautiful. I—” I murmur, turning my head back to him and the rest of my sentence falters as I look at him. He is leaning against the back of a leather couch the color of chocolate, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, and the look in his eyes as he connects with mine is one of such intensity that I suddenly feel shy. I feel as if he can see everything deep within me: my hopes, my fears, and the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him. Uncomfortable that my every thought feels like it is on display, I try to break up the electric atmosphere. “Thank you for having me here, Colton.”
He pushes off of the couch and saunters toward me, every part of my body aching for his touch. “I’m glad you’re here. Would you like a tour or a drink out on the patio?”
“Patio,” I tell him immediately, wanting to soak up the sun and the beautiful view with him. I wander out onto the sprawling deck complete with an infinity edge pool, built-in barbeque island to the right, and the most comfortable looking patio furniture I have ever seen.
“Take a seat,” he tells me, “I’m going to get us a couple of drinks. Is wine okay?”
“Sounds great.” I ignore his request to sit and walk to the edge of the railing to take in the unobstructed view of the beach that stretches to the left and right of us. My thoughts turn to what it would be like to wake up every day to this spectacular view. Beside Colton watching this spectacular view, to be exact.
“I could sit here all day and watch the view.” I’m startled by his voice behind me as I did not hear him approach.
“It’s very soothing.” He sidles up next to me and places a glass of wine on the railing beside me. “Thank you. I imagine it could be very distracting when you have other things to do.”
Colton places a soft kiss on my bare shoulder, and keeps his lips there as he murmurs, “Nothing could be more distracting than you standing here right now with the wind in your hair and your dress billowing around you giving me hints of those sexy legs of yours.”
His words are like an electric pulse to my system, stoking my ever-present burn for him. Despite the warmth of him behind me, I have goose bumps on my arms. “Are you trying to sweet talk me, Ace, so that you can get laid tonight?”
“If it’s working, then yes I am.”
How will I ever be able to say no to him?
“I told you,” I say feigning disinterest, “I’m not really into race car drivers.”
“Ah … yes,” he laughs moving to the side of me resting his hip on the rail but keeping a hand on my lower back. “I forgot, only baseball players do it for you.” He takes a long sip from his bottle of beer, watching me the whole time. “I’m sure you could be persuaded, though.”
I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head, trying to hide my smile. “Might take an awful lot of persuading …”
He moves quickly so that my back is to the railing now and his arms box me in on either side. His warm, hard body presses up against mine and a mischievous grin plays at the curves of his mouth. “You know I can be awfully convincing, Rylee.”
In a flash, his lips are on my mouth and his tongue is pushing through my parted lips to meld with mine, attacking my mouth with purpose. I wrap my arms through his, hooking them up so that I can press my hands against his shoulders. He deepens the kiss, demanding more, taking more, and igniting little licks of desire deep in my belly. One of his hands palms my butt and presses me against him while the other leaves whisper-soft touches on my bare back. I moan softly from the multitude of sensations his touch alone creates beneath my skin.
I hear a thumping sound and I screech suddenly, breaking away from our kiss as I feel something insistently trying to force between where his hips pin mine to the railing. I laugh loudly as I look down at the oversized ball of black, white and tan fur that is wedging his nose in between us. A beautiful and rather large dog wriggles against us, tail beating against the railing, wet nose pushing and prodding.
I cry a small sound of pleasured surprise as I take the dog’s head in my hands. “Baxter!” Colton groans at him. “I apologize. He’s a little out of control.”
I coo to the gentle giant, and when I begin scratching behind his ears, he plops his bottom down on the ground complacently, tail thumping, and groans in pleasure.
“Holy shit! How’d you do that?”
“What?” I ask him over my shoulder as I squat down, continuing to rub the dog.
“He’s never that calm with anybody except for me.”
“I’m a dog person,” I shrug casually as if that explains everything and move my hands to rub the dog’s chest so that his back leg kicks out in pleasure.
“Obviously,” Colton astounds, bending over to kiss the dog on the head and scratch the fur on his neck. The sight makes me smile. “You’re supposed to help me get the girls, big guy, not come in between us when we’re kissing.”
I laugh out loud as Baxter unknowingly groans on cue in response to Colton’s words. “He’s beautiful, Colton.”
“Yeah, he’s a keeper,” he tells me as he takes my hand and pulls me up. “I haven’t taken him for his walk yet today so he’s mad at me.”
“Then let’s go take him,” I offer up, a walk on the beach sounding like a perfect idea. Colton cocks his head and furrows his brow at me. Did I say something wrong? “What?”
“You just surprise me sometimes,” he says shaking his head at me.
“Good surprise or bad surprise?” I ask him over the rim of my glass of wine.
“Good,” he says softly, reaching out and touching a loose curl on my neck. “You’re just so different than what I’m used to.”
Oh! Yes. I forgot to bleach my hair blonde before I came over. I fidget nervously under his gaze.
“Shall we?” he asks nodding toward the steps that lead off the patio and on to the beach. I smile at him as he places a hand on the small of my back and ushers me down the stairway, pulling me quickly aside as Baxter bounds down the steps in unfettered excitement.
Barefoot, we walk side by side along the juncture where the wet sand meets the dry sand. Colton throws a ball intermittently for Baxter and his boundless energy while we chat idly about this and that.
“You know, my sister was surprised to see you at the track the other day.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell. She seemed so warm and inviting when I met her.”
Colton smiles ruefully at my sardonic tone. “I apologize. She’s usually not like that.”
“Hmm-hmm,” I murmur, my expression telling him I find it hard to believe. “It’s okay though, because I thought she was another of the BBB.”
“BBB?”
“Your Bevy of Blonde Beauties club.”
“Oh, come on,” he laughs, “I’m not that bad!”
“C’mon, Ace, have you googled yourself lately? All the pictures of you with your gaggle of women?” He goes quiet and for the first time I think I see embarrassment wash through his cheeks. I’m not too happy of the thought either, considering the fact that I’m now part of that horde. Not sure how I feel about that.
“No, I don’t google myself,” he says finally, “but it’s kind of hot knowing that you’re looking at me when you’re not with me.” I turn my head from him and look at the houses on our right, hiding my blush from him.
We walk a bit further, each lost in our own thoughts until I stop to absently dig up a shell with my big toe that is lying partially in the sand. Colton breaks the silence. “I lied to you the other day.”
My foot stops digging at his words, curious where he is going with this. I look over at him. “Go on,” I prompt.
“Well you asked me if I ever fear crashing.” Oh. Okay. Nothing bad. “And I thought about it the other night when I was lying in bed. I mean we all fear crashing, but we try to push it out of our minds or it will affect our driving. I guess it’s a knee-jerk reaction to say that I don’t.”
“Have you ever had a bad crash?” I envision him in a mangled car, and I don’t like the feeling that it evokes within me.
“Once or twice where it’s shaken me up,” he admits as he stops and stares out at Baxter biting at the tiny waves in the water. “So yeah, it scares the shit out of me. All it takes is that one time, but the minute I start driving like I have that fear…the minute I start letting up because of it…is the day that I need to quit.”
“That makes sense,” I offer up, although I can’t fathom hurling myself around a track that fast. Can’t comprehend experiencing that horrible disoriented and dizzying tumbling feeling more than once in my lifetime.
“Besides, I’ve feared much worse things in my life,” he shrugs, still looking out toward the shoreline. “At least on the track, it’s me that puts myself in danger … no one else. My whole team has got my back.”
And you’re not used to that. Not used to depending on others or needing anything from any body.
I hear a distant voice off to the right of us shout in a feeble-sounding voice. “Hi, dear!”
Colton looks over and a huge grin fills his face as he sees a figure standing in the second story window of the clapboard house we are passing. “Hi, Bette!” he responds waving to her as we pass by before grabbing my hand. “That’s Bette Steiner. Her husband was some software tycoon. He died last year so she calls me sometimes if she needs help with anything.” He stoops down to scratch a wiggling Baxter before picking up the ball and throwing it toward the water again.
So the rebellious bad boy takes care of his elderly neighbors. Isn’t he full of unexpected surprises?
We walk for a little while longer in comfortable silence, our fingers intertwined, hands swinging playfully. The houses are beautiful and the mixture of sun on my face, sand on my feet, and Colton beside me warms my heart. We follow a bend in the beach where the bluffs start to rise so that the houses are raised some rather than sitting right on the sand, and Colton pulls me toward a little alcove. A rather large rock with a flat top sits at the base of a small hill layered in various types of greenery that looks out at the ocean.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he tells me as he helps me up onto the rock, before hopping up so that he can sit beside me.
“Oh?”
“This spot, right here, is my little slice of heaven. My place to go and sit when I need a break from everything.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, watching Baxter crash into the waves, pleased that he’s shared something with me. “Your happy place,” I murmur looking up at him. God, he looks gorgeous with his wind-blown hair and yet still a little aloof with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. He smiles at me and places a soft kiss onto my forehead.
He is silent for a moment before speaking. “When I was little, I always had this image in my head, my happy place to use your term, where I’d go to in when …”
With his silence, I can feel his body tense up at some memory I’m sure I will never be able to fathom. I reach out and put a hand on his knee, drawing lazy lines with my fingernails. I know I shouldn’t, but “the fixer” in me prevails. “When what, Colton?” I can feel him shake his head back and forth. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Babe, it’s old news,” he says shrugging his shoulders, effectively pushing me away before hopping abruptly off the rock. “I’m not the only kid who’s had a rough go of things.” Emotion clouds his voice as he walks a couple of feet away from me. I start to speak when he talks over me. “Don’t bother, Rylee,” he chuckles a self-deprecating laugh, “I’ve been picked apart and put back together by the best of them. A waste of my parents’ money if you ask me, seeing as none of them fixed or erased anything.” His next words are barely audible above the sound of the surf, and I’m not sure if he means for me to hear them anyway, but they bring a chill to my skin when he speaks. “I’m damaged goods.”
I want to reach out to him. To tell him that a person who is damaged goods doesn’t help elderly women with chores and make neglected boys feel special by standing up for them. I want to tell him that he is worthy of love and a real relationship for I can see it in his eyes and feel it behind his unspoken words when he is with me. To tell him that what happened as a child—whatever horrible, unimaginable thing it was, does not define who he is today or where he is going. But I say nothing. Instead, I trace the lines of his body with my eyes, wanting to reach out, but unsure how he’d take it.
I am so focused on Colton, that I don’t see Baxter bound up in my periphery until he decides to shake his wet fur all over me. I screech out loud at the bite of the cold water hitting my skin. Colton whirls around to see what happened and lifts his head up to the sky laughing at me. A deep, sincere laughter that lights up his face and eases the tension in his shoulders.
“Baxter!” I shout as Colton walks back to me, removing his sunglasses and hooking them onto the back of his t-shirt’s neckline. I look up to him, a false pout on my lips, “I’m all wet now.”
Colton presses his thighs between mine so that he stands in front of me while I stay seated. The rock’s height brings us to almost eye level with each other. A slow, salacious grin spreads across his lips and he raises an eyebrow at me. “All wet, huh?” he asks as he places his hands on my hips and pulls me into him, his hips between the apex of my thighs. “I like it when you’re all wet, Ryles.”
I swallow loudly, the clouded look in his eyes hinting at passion and desire and so much more. He leans forward, bringing his hands up to my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing back and forth at the hollow dip where my collarbones meet, before brushing a kiss on my lips. I bring my hands up to skim my fingernails up his chest and then around to the back of his neck and play in his hair before tugging his head forward, deepening the kiss. The low groan in the back of his throat excites me and ignites me, sending licks of white-hot pleasure to every nerve. Despite the barrage of sensation his lips on mine evoke, he keeps the kiss slow and soft like a lazy Sunday afternoon. Soft sips, slow licks of tongue, slight changes in angle, and soft murmurs of sweet nothings that seep into my soul and wind around my heart. Colton backs away with a shaky sigh after placing a kiss on the tip of my nose.
Oh my, the man sure knows how to kiss a woman senseless. If I was standing right now, I think I’d need someone to help me because he’s made my knees weak.
He tilts my head up so that my eyes are forced to look at him. I feel shy under the intensity of his gaze. He just smiles softly at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe something of which I don’t know. Baxter nudges at him, jealous of the lack of attention, and Colton laughs, reaching his hand down to pet his head. “Okay, Bax, I don’t mean to neglect you!” He takes the ball out of Baxter’s mouth and turns around to huck it down the beach.
I hop down off the rock and watch Baxter take off down the beach, kicking up sand as he goes. “He’s fast!” I exclaim as I feel Colton’s hands slide around my waist, pulling me back into him. He wraps his arms around me, my back to his front, and he rests his chin on my shoulder. My body relaxes and yet perks up with awareness at the feel and warmth of his body pressed against mine. I close my eyes momentarily, drinking in the uncensored affection that Colton rarely displays.
“Hmmm, you always smell so good.” He nuzzles my neck, and I can feel the vibration of his words against the sensitive skin beneath my ear where his lips press. “It’s scary how easily I can get lost in you.”
I still at his words. As much as I want and need to hear these words, my mind chooses this time for insecurity and disbelief to rear its ugly head. Images flash through my head. Page upon page of Google images with Colton and his BBB. He is so smooth. So practiced. How many women has he uttered these words to? How many others has he whispered sweet nothings to and strolled hand and hand with along the beach, making them feel like they are the only one in the world?
“What is it, Rylee?” What? How does he know? “I just felt your entire body tense up? What’s going on in that beautiful and intriguing head of yours?”
I shake my head feeling silly for my thoughts and yet afraid of the answers. When I try to pull away from him, his arms tighten around me. “It’s nothing, Colton,” I sigh.
“Tell me.”
I take a deep breath and steel myself to ask the two simple words swimming around in my head. “Why me?”
“Why you what?” he asks, confusion in his voice as he releases his hold on me.
Despite being let go, I take a step away and keep my back to Colton, lacking the courage to ask him to his face. “Why me, Colton? Why am I here?” I can hear him take a deep breath behind me. “Why not one of the score of women before me? There are so many others that are so much prettier, sexier, skinner … why am I here and not one of them?”
“For someone so sure of yourself, your question astonishes me.” His voice is closer than I had expected. We stand in silence and when I do not turn around to face him, he puts his hands on my arms and does it for me.
“Look at me,” he commands, squeezing my biceps until I comply. He shakes his head at me, disbelief and, I think, a little bit of surprise etched in his features. “First of all, Rylee, you are an extremely beautiful, tremendously sensual woman. And that ass of yours,” he pauses, the guttural sound in the back of his throat is one of pure appreciation, “is something men fantasize about.” He snorts, “I could sit and admire you all day.”
His eyes lock on mine and I can see the honesty in his eyes. A part of me wants to believe him. Wants to accept that I am enough for him. He moves his hands from my arms to the sides of my ribcage and then slowly runs them down to my hips and back up. “As for these, I have to admit sweetheart that I’ve dated mostly waifs in my years, but damn, Rylee, your curves are so incredibly sexy. They turn me on like you wouldn’t believe. I get hard just watching you walk in front of me.” He leans into me, the evidence of his arousal pushing against me, and kisses me softly on my parted lips. He rests his forehead against mine, his fingers playing idly with the tie at my neck. “As to why they are no longer here?” he murmurs, the words fanning over my face before pulling back so that his green eyes burn into mine. “It’s simple. Our arrangement was over.”
I pull back from him, trying to wrap my head around that last part. “They just up and left?” I try to hide the desperation in my voice, as I suddenly need to know what I’m in for. “I mean, why was it over?”
He looks at me momentarily before answering. “Some found others that could give them more, some caused too much drama for my liking, and some wanted the white picket fence and two point five kids,” he answers indifferently.
“And–and I assume that you ended things with them then?” He nods cautiously, the cogs in his head turning as he tries to figure out why I want to know. “Did you love any of them?”
“Jesus, Rylee!” he barks, running his hand through his hair, “What the f*ck is this, fifty questions?” He walks a couple of feet away from me, exasperation emanating off of him, but I’ve asked this much, I might as well finish it off.
I sit down in the sand, aware that Baxter is a ways down the beach, and hug my knees to my chest, twisting my ring around and around on my finger. “No, I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” Colton’s eyes snap up to mine, an indiscernible look on his face. “What I’m already in to,” I sigh more to myself than him, but I know he hears because I see the muscle in his jaw tic at the words. “You told me that you sabotage anything good. I need to know if you loved any of them?”
He steps next to me and runs a hand through his hair. I have to crane my head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not capable of love, Rylee,” he deadpans, his voice a haunted whisper, before staring out to sea and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I learned a long time ago that the more you want someone, the more you covet them, and need and love them … it doesn’t matter. In the end they’re going to leave you anyway.” He picks up a shell and tosses it. “Besides, someone can tell you they love you, but words can lie and actions can be improvised to fake something that’s not.”
A shudder runs through me at his words. What a sad, horrible way to go through life. To always want but to never have because you think it will be taken away without notice. To be so hurt that you think it’s the words and actions that hurt rather than the person behind them. My heart is wrenched for the poor little boy who lived a life empty of unconditional love. It aches for the man before me. A man so full of passion and life and possibility but denying himself the one piece that can help make him whole.
Oblivious to my line of thinking and my overwhelming pity for the lonely boy within him, Colton continues. “Did I think I might have loved any of them? I’m not sure, Rylee. I know how they wanted me to feel. How they wanted me to demonstrate and reciprocate, but I told you, I’m just not capable of it.” He shrugs his shoulders as if this is just a simple fact of life. He turns and looks at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “What about you, Rylee?” he asks playfully. “Have you ever been in love?”
I look at him for a beat and then back out to the waves, searching for the memories that are there but slowly fading. A wistful smile plays on my lips as they come back to me. “Yes. I have.”
“Baxter, come!” Colton yells before holding his hand out to help pull me up from my seat in the sand. “Let’s head back,” he says as he keeps my hand in his, and it’s not lost on me that he has not responded to my statement. We walk in silence for a while, and I can sense he wants to ask more but is unsure how.
He sighs. “I have no right to even feel this way,” he says running his hand through his hair, “seeing as how my past is so …” he drifts off without finishing when he meets my eyes. “Why does it bug me? Why does the thought of you with someone else drive me absolutely crazy?”
A part of me likes the fact that it bugs him. I revel in the fact that I mean enough to him for it to matter. “You surely can’t think that I’ve been waiting around my whole life to be your plaything, Ace,” I laugh, shrugging away the unease at the next question I know he is going to ask. I rarely talk about what happened. I never speak of the after effects. Of the indescribable loss that can never be forgotten. Of the horrid, callous words his family said to me. Their accusations that still haunt me to this day.
Despite the passage of time, I still feel that sharp pang of grief when talking about it. Time has dulled it some in the two years since the accident, but the images burned in my mind will never fade. The guilt still weighs so heavily on me at times that I can’t breathe or function. In the past it has prevented me from living again. Taking risks and putting myself out there. From taking a chance like the one I am taking with Colton. I try to hide the shiver that runs through me at the memories and prepare myself for how much I to want to reveal.
Colton looks at me, a ghost of a smile on his sculpted lips. “Spill it, sweetheart. What happened?”
I take a deep breath. “There’s not much to tell,” I begin staring at the sand in front of us as we walked casually. “We were high school sweethearts, followed each other to college, got engaged, were planning our wedding,” I feel him stiffen beside me at my last words, his fingers tensing in mine. “And he died a little over two years ago. End of story.” I glance over to find him looking at me. I’m glad the tears that usually fill my eyes don’t come. How embarrassing to be in love with one man and crying about another.
He stops, tugging on my hand until I falter. Sympathy fills his eyes as they search mine. “I’m sorry,” he says gently, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me. I bury my face in his neck finding comfort in the steady beat of his pulse beneath my lips. I wrap my arms around him, inhaling his delicious scent, so new yet so comforting. He brushes a soft kiss to my temple, and his tenderness is so unexpected that tears burn in the back of my throat.
“Thank you,” I whisper leaning back to look at him and smiling softly.
“You want to tell me about it?” he prompts as he runs a hand down my arm and grabs my hand bringing it up to his mouth and placing a kiss on it.
Do I want to talk about it? Not really, but he deserves to know. Most of it anyway. He pulls me to his side and puts an arm around me as we start to walk again. “There’s not much to tell, really. Max and I had pre-calc together. He was a senior and I was a junior. Typical high-school romance. Football games, prom, each others firsts,” I shrug with indifference on the outside to hide the turmoil on the inside at the memories. “I followed him to UCLA, stayed with him throughout and then we got engaged my senior year.” I watch Baxter bite at the waves again, and it brings a welcome diversion from what I’m going to relay next.
“One weekend, Max decided to surprise me with a road trip. He said it was just what the doctor ordered before …” I falter, wondering how I should continue. Colton squeezes my hand in encouragement. “Before life got more hectic; new jobs, marriage … everything. We had no set destination, so we just drove looking for scenery. No one knew that we were going anywhere, so there was no one to expect us back home. We headed north and ended up by Mammoth, passing the town, but veering off a two-lane road not too far from June Lake. Thankfully it had been a dry winter, so there wasn’t much snow on the ground. Just a few patches here and there. It was early afternoon and I was starving, so we decided to explore and find the perfect spot for a picnic. Stupid us,” I shake my head. “We had cell phones with us, but without any service, we turned them off to not waste the batteries.” I stop now, needing a minute to remember those last carefree moments before life changed forever for the both of us. I release Colton’s hand and wrap my arms around myself to stifle the shivers that race through me.
Colton senses my anguish and wraps his arms around me, his body ghosting mine. “You guys were young, Rylee. You did nothing wrong. Don’t put whatever happened on yourself,” he says as if he already knows that the guilt eats at me like a disease on a daily basis.
I take in his words, grateful that he’s said them but still not believing them. “We came around a corner on this winding road we were driving on. There was an elk in the road and Max swerved the car to avoid him.” I can hear Colton suck in an audible breath, knowing where this is going. “We veered into the oncoming lane and the tires grabbed the edge of the road because Max had overcorrected too much. I don’t know. It all happened so fast.” I shudder again and Colton holds me, his arms squeezing tighter around me as if their strength can ward off the inevitable. “I remember seeing the first trees as we went over the edge and started down the ravine. I remember Max swearing and it struck me as odd because he rarely swore.” My stomach lodges in my throat as I remember the weightless feeling as the car lifted from the ground and the centrifugal force that tossed me around like a ragdoll as the car tumbled down. I reach up and wipe the single tear that has slid out of the corner of my eye. I shake my head, “I’m sure you don’t want to hear all of this, Colton. I don’t want to put a damper on our evening.”
I can feel him shake his head as it’s resting on my shoulder. His arms are wrapped across the top part of my chest, from shoulder to shoulder, and I bring my hands up to hook onto them. “No, please continue, Rylee. I appreciate you sharing with me. Letting me get to know and understand you better.”
Maybe if I open up to him, then he’ll feel comfortable enough to explain his past to me as well. Is this my subconscious reasoning for telling him this? Am I hoping that it’ll turn into a quid pro quo? I think about this for a couple of seconds and realize that as much as I can hope this might happen, the reality is that I feel relieved to be talking about it for the first time in a long time.
I draw in a shaky breath before I continue. “The next thing I remember is coming to. It was getting dark. The sun was already past the crest of the mountain so we were in the shadows of the deep ravine we were in. The smells—oh, my God—they were something I will never forget and will always associate with that day. The mixture of fuel and blood and destruction. We were at the bottom of a ravine. The car was sitting on an angle and I was on the high side while Max was on the low. The car was mangled. We had rolled so many times that the car had crushed into itself, making the interior almost half the size it should have been.
“I could hear Max. The sounds he made trying to breathe—trying to stay alive—were horrifying.” I shudder at those sounds that I can still hear in my dreams. “But the best part about those sounds were that he was still alive. And at some point in those first moments of waking up, he reached over and held my hand, trying to take away my fear from regaining consciousness in the hell we were embroiled in.”
“Do you need a minute?” he asks sweetly before pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder.
I shake my head. “No, I’d rather just finish.”
“Okay. Take your time,” he murmurs as we start to walk again.
“I panicked. I had to get help. It was only when I went to release my seatbelt that I felt the pain. My right arm wouldn’t work. It was visibly broken in several places. I let go of Max’s hand with my left hand and tried to undo the belt, but it was jammed—some freak thing the manufacturer studied after the fact that was a result of metal jamming in the mechanism from the crash. I remember looking down and feeling like it was a dream when I realized I was covered in blood. My head and arm and midsection and pelvis were screaming with pain so intense I think I would rather die than ever feel that again. It hurt to breathe. To move my head. I can recall Max mumbling my name, and I reached over groping for his hand. I told him that I was going to get us help and that he needed to hold on. That I loved him. I grabbed a shard of glass. Tried to use it to cut through my seatbelt but only ended up slicing my hand some and stabbing myself in the abdomen. It was brutal. I kept blacking out from the pain. Each time I would come to, the blinding panic would hit me again.”
We reach the steps up to his house, and I watch Baxter bound up with endless energy. Colton sits on the bottom step and pulls me down to sit beside him. I use my toes to make mindless imprints in the sand. “The night was freezing and dark and terrifying. By the time the sun started to lighten the sky, Max’s breaths were shallow and thready. He didn’t have much time. All I could do was hold his hand, pray for him, talk to him and tell him it was okay to go. Tell him that I loved him. He died several hours later.” I run the back of my hand over my cheek to wipe away the tears that have fallen and try to erase the memory in my mind of the last time I saw Max. “I was beside myself. I was losing my strength from all my blood loss, and I knew I was getting weaker and worse off by the hour. That was when the panic set in. I was trapped, and the longer I stayed in the car, the more I felt like it was closing in on me.
“When night fell near the end of the second day, the claustrophobia was smothering me, and I completely lost it. I couldn’t deal anymore with the pain and the feeling of defeat so I thrashed around in fear, in anger, and in defiance that I didn’t want to die yet. All of my movement somehow dislodged my cell phone that had gotten stuck up under the dash amidst the tumbling down the hill. It fell to the floor beneath me.” I take a deep breath remembering how it took every ounce of determination and strength that I’d had left to get that phone. My lifeline. “It took what felt like hours to reach it and when I turned it on there wasn’t any service. I was devastated. I started yelling at everything and nothing until something clicked in the back of my mind about a story I had heard on the news. About how they’d found some missing hiker by following the pings on their cell phone despite a lack of service.
“I knew that when I didn’t show up for work in the morning, someone would call Haddie and that would start the wheels in motion. She’s a worrier and knew I was preparing for a big meeting I had that morning that I would’ve never missed. I figured that maybe they’d be able to track my cell phone to our location. It was a long shot in my mind but it was the only hope I had.” I touch the ring on my finger with my thumb. “I clung to it and willed every thought I had that it would work.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Colton says before clearing his throat. I’m sure that he had never expected this to be my story. Nonetheless, I am impressed at his compassion for me despite being a self-professed anti-drama person. For this is definitely drama.
“There’s nothing you can say,” I shrug, reaching over to place a hand gently on his cheek. A silent thank you for letting me talk and for listening without interjecting. Without telling me what I should have done as most people do. “It almost took another day and a half for them to find me. I was hallucinating by then. Freezing cold and trying to escape the confines of the car in my own head. I thought the rescuer was an angel. He looked in the window and the sun was behind him, lighting him up like he had a halo. Later he told me I screamed at him,” I laugh softly at the memory. “Called him an SOB and that he couldn’t have me yet. That I wasn’t ready to die.”
Colton pulls me onto his lap so that my body is cradled between his knees and softly kisses the tracks left by my tears. “Why does it not surprise me that you’d tell off an angel?” he laughs, his lips pressed to my temple. “You’re very good at telling people off,” he teases as we both mutually recall the numerous times I have told him off.
I lean into him, accepting and being grateful for his comfort. I close my eyes and let the heat of the suns rays and the warmth of Colton against me melt away the chill deep in my soul. “I told you, Ace. Baggage.”
“No,” he says, his chin resting on the top of my head, “that’s just a f*cked up situation in circumstances way out of your control.”
I wish everybody saw it that way. I shrug the errant thought away. “Too many sad thoughts for such a beautiful evening,” I sigh, leaning back and looking at Colton.
He smiles wistfully at me. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sure it’s not the easiest thing to talk about.”
“What do you want to do now?”
Colton grins wickedly at me and grabs my waist, lifting me off of him as he stands up. He doesn’t release me and continues to lift me up, ignoring my growing shrieks as I realize his intentions, and places me over his shoulder.
“I’m too heavy! Put me down!” I squeal as he starts to trot up the stairs. I smack him on the butt, but he just continues up.
“Quit wiggling,” he laughs as he reciprocates the spank. By the time we reach the top, my sides hurt from laughing so hard and Baxter is barking loudly at us. Colton continues to carry me despite reaching the patio, and I swat at him again.
“Put me down!”
“It’s taking everything I have to not toss you in the pool right now,” he warns me.
“No!” I screech, kicking wildly as he swings me so that I can see how close we are to the edge.
He hovers there momentarily as I cry out but then steps away as I sag in relief. He stops and pulls my legs down, and my body slowly slides down the length of him. When our faces are even, he tightens his arms around me so that I am standing on air, acutely aware of my chest pressed against his. “Now, there’s that smile I like,” he murmurs, his breath feathering over my face.
“Very funny, Ace!” I chastise. “You—” My next words are smothered as he captures his mouth with mine. Soft, tender, and seeking, I yield to him. Needing the virile man against me to make me forget my story earlier and to remind me why it’s okay to move on. We sink into the kiss as he lets me slowly slide the rest of the way down his body, my hands holding his face. The calluses of his hands rasp across the bare skin of my back as he slides them down to hold my hips.
I mewl in protest as he pulls back from me. Unnamed emotions flicker through his eyes that are impossible to read. “You hungry?” he asks.
Yes, for you. I bite my bottom lip between my teeth and nod my head to keep the words from slipping out. “Sure,” I say stepping back from him to turn and find a table set up to the left of us, complete with food. “What? How?”
Colton smiles. “I have my ways,” he laughs as he leads me over and pulls a chair out for me. “Thank you, Grace,” he says toward the open doors into the house, and I hear a faint reply from inside.
“Your secret weapon?”
“Always!” He pours us wine. “Grace is the best. She takes care of me.”
Lucky woman. “It smells delicious,” I say taking a sip of my wine as Colton dishes out what appears to be chicken with artichokes and angel hair pasta.
“It’s one of my favorites,” he muses, taking a bite. He watches me as I taste it, and I can see him visibly relax when I hum with approval.
Dinner is light and relaxed. The food is excellent, and I despise Colton telling me that Grace does not divulge her recipes. I tell him I’ll talk her out of it somehow, someway.
We talk about our jobs, and Colton asks how Zander is doing. I tell him that he hasn’t spoken any more words yet, but that he seems to be responding more, which is a good step. I tell him that hero status has been definitely bestowed on him by the boys, and that they can’t stop reliving how he pulled up to the school. I explain about the next process to get the permitting for some of the new facilities when Corporate Cares gets the green light.
He tells me that he’s been busy with the media side of the upcoming season along with everyday operations at CD Enterprises. In the past week, he’s filmed a commercial for Merit Rum, did a photo shoot for a new marketing campaign, and attended an IRL function.
We sink into a relaxed rhythm, mutually sharing with each other, and it feels normal in what is otherwise a surreal setting for me. When we finish dinner, he offers a quick tour of the rest of the house, which I have secretly been wishing for. Colton tops off our glasses and grabs my hand. He shows me a state-of-the-art kitchen with warm-hued granite contrasted by top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances.
“Do you cook, Ace?” I ask running my fingers over the enormous island as I wander, my thoughts flashing back to a different kitchen island. When he doesn’t answer, I look up to meet his eyes and I flush, knowing that he is remembering the same thing I am.
He just shakes his head and smirks at me. “I can throw a little something together when I need to.”
“Good to know,” I murmur as he leads me to the next room, a sunken family room that the kitchen overlooks. Deep, chocolate leather couches that look like you could sink into oblivion in are shaped in a semicircle facing a media unit. He takes me into an office oozing of masculinity in rich leather and dark wood. A broad desk takes up a large portion of the space, the walls lines with bookshelves, and a lone acoustic guitar propped up against the far wall.
“You play?” I ask, nodding my head toward the guitar.
“For myself.” His answer mixed with the unexpected softness in his voice has me turning to look at him. He shrugs, “It’s what I do to help me think…to work though stuff in my head.” As he talks, I step further into the office and run my fingers across bookshelves, looking at the scattered pictures of his family. “I don’t play for others.”
I nod my head in response, understanding the need to have something to help when your head is troubled. I continue perusing the bookshelves and one photo causes me to do a double take. A younger Colton looks exhausted yet jubilant in his race suit standing in front of his car, arms raised in victory, smile wide with pure accomplishment, and confetti raining down. The only distraction in the picture is the woman wrapped around his torso. She stares up at him, love, adoration, and reverence plastered blatantly on her face. I’d know her face anywhere.
“What’s this picture of?” I ask casually as I turn to him where he’s relaxed against the doorjamb, watching me as I look at his things.
“What’s that?” he asks tilting his head and walking toward me. I lean back and point toward the photograph in question.
A reflective smile graces his lips and his eyes light up. “That was my first win in the Indy Lights circuit.” He shakes his head in remembrance, “God, that was a year.”
“Tell me about it.” He arches an eyebrow at me as if he is questioning whether I really want to hear about it. “I want to know,” I prompt.
“It was my second year and I thought I was going to lose my ride if I didn’t pull a win. I had come close so many times and something always happened to prevent it.” He reaches out and takes the picture off of the shelf to look at it. “Looking back, I know now that I made a lot of rookie mistakes that caused the problems. But back then I was just frustrated and scared I was going to lose the one thing I really loved—too much ego, too little listening. Some things never change, huh?” He glances up and I smile at him. “Anyway, everything seemed to be going bad this race. We couldn’t get the car adjusted right because the weather was erratic. Too many variables to explain. But we found ourselves with five laps left and I made a run at the lead. Passed the leader in a stupid risk that I never should have taken, but it paid off and we won.”
“First of many victories, right?” I ask as I take the picture from his hand and study it again.
“Right,” he smirks, “And hopefully more this season.”
“Who’s this?” I ask pointing to Tawny, getting to my real question.
“You didn’t meet Tawny at the track the other day?”
“Oh,” I play stupid, “is that who you were speaking with before you tested?”
“Yeah. I apologize. I thought you’d been introduced.”
“Uh-uh.” I place the frame back on the shelf and follow him as he steps out of the office. “Did she work for you way back then?”
“No,” he chuckles, showing me into a den complete with some of his racing memorabilia, a huge flat screen television, and a pool table. “She’s a family friend and we kinda of grew up together. We, uh, actually dated a while in college, and it was a long-running joke between our families that we would end up married some day.”
Whoa! Did I just hear that right? Only a guy would think nothing of making that comment to the woman he is currently doing whatever we are doing together with. Their families think they’ll end up married some day? F*ck! I swallow loudly as he takes me into a guest suite. “Why’d you guys break up?”
“Good question,” he sighs giving me an odd look, and I wonder if I am being too obvious in my probing. “I don’t know. She was just too familiar. I thought of her like a little sister. It just didn’t work for me,” he shrugs. “When that picture was taken we were still dating. In the end, we remained good friends, seeing as she’s one of the few people I can really trust and depend on. When she graduated from college with a degree in marketing and I started CDE, she helped me out. She was good at what she did, so when the company became a reality, I hired her.”
Well, at least the platonic edge is from his side because she sure wants more than that. I turn from looking out the wall of glass at the ocean and look at him. He holds his hand out to me, “C’mon, let me show you upstairs.”
We ascend the wider-than-normal freestanding staircase on stone steps, and I find myself impressed with the lived-in feeling of his stone fortress. I tell him I assumed it was going to be cold and uninviting but it’s the exact opposite. He tells me he opted for the stone exterior to limit the maintenance required from the continual wear of being exposed to the harsh beach conditions.
When we reach the top of the stairs, we come to an open room that is the patio portion I saw from the front of the house. “I think I found heaven,” I murmur as I take in the indoor/outdoor patio. Lights wrap around an overhead trellis covered in a growing vine, twinkling in the darkening sky. Four chaise lounges I could sink into and get lost in are artfully arranged around the space.
Colton laughs at me as he tugs my arm, “We can enjoy out there later,” he says wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“Man with a one-track mind,” I tease as my words falter when he brings me into the doorway of his bedroom. “Wow,” I breathe.
“Now this is my favorite place in the house,” he says and I can see why. An oversized bed is situated in the room with the footboard facing the view of the ocean. The room is done in soft browns and blues and greens. A love seat is situated on an angled wall and a coffee table is in front of it where magazines and books are haphazardly thrown. A large dog bed sits in another corner beneath a fireplace with chewed toys and a rumpled, blue blanket. The focal point of the bedroom is similar to downstairs, a wall of glass consisting of opened windows and the breeze blowing in off the ocean.
“I can see why,” I tell him as I’m drawn to the windows and stand to watch the distant lights of boats at sea making their way home. I can see the silhouettes of surfers waiting to catch one last set before paddling in. “Your place really is magnificent.”
Colton takes me by surprise when I feel his arms slide around my waist and pull me into him, his front to my back, and nuzzles his nose into my neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs as I angle my head to the side to expose the span of skin where he lays a trail of feather-light kisses down to my shoulder and back up. My body shudders in reaction to his touch and a soft sigh escapes between my lips. His hand splays over my stomach and presses me against him, my pliant curves molding to his firm lines. His mouth is at my ear again, kissing that sensitive spot just underneath. “Can I tell you how much I enjoy having you here?” he whispers, licks of his breath tickling my ear.
I sigh into him, leaning my head back to rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for tonight, Colton.”
He chuckles. “I sure hope you’re not implying it’s over yet, because I’m just getting started.” His hands run up and down the side of my torso, fingertips skimming the edges of my breasts. Tiny hints at what’s to come. I arch against him at his touch, my body humming with desire, and my heart reveling in his tenderness.
I tilt my head up and he angles down so that even in our awkward positioning, he captures my mouth with his. His tongue delves past my lips and licks at mine. Teasing. Entwining. Tasting. Worshipping. I turn into him, needing more to feed my insatiable craving. He backs me up against the wall of glass, his forearms press against it framing my head while his body pushes into mine.
A strangled sigh escapes him as I nip at his lower lip and run a tongue down the line of his unshaven jaw. I reach his ear and tug on his ear lobe with my teeth. “No,” I breathe into his ear, “the night is most definitely not over, Ace.” I make my way down the line of his throat and back up to lay a kiss at the pulse in his throat. “It’s just beginning.”
“Rylee,” he moans a sound of pure appreciation.
I feel empowered by his unbidden reaction to me. I want to show him how he makes me feel. Tell him with actions since I am unable to with words. I dip my tongue in the indent of his collarbone, his coarse hair tickling my lips, his scent enveloping me, and then trail a row of soft kisses back up to his other ear. “I want to taste you, Colton.”
I hear him suck in a breath at my request, and suddenly his hands are on the sides of my cheeks, cupping them. He pulls my face back from his, his thumbs rubbing over my lips, swollen from his. His eyes search mine, for what I don’t know, but the depth of emotion that I see in his is all I need to know. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, trapped in our hazy state of desire. Our silent interlude lasts until he groans, “God, yes, Rylee,” before crushing his mouth to mine. His kiss is a bombardment of what I see in his eyes: greed, passion, blazing need, and an unexpected urgency. I have no chance to offer anything for Colton just takes, and I submit willingly to his unspoken commands. I hand myself over to him, mind, body, heart and soul.
I ease back from the kiss, a salacious look in my eyes that stops Colton from pulling me back to him. Our chests heave with anticipation. I bite my lower lip as my mouth spreads into a wicked grin. My thoughts turn to how I want to run my tongue down his body and feel him shudder in response to my touch.
I reach out, surprised by the wanton woman in me he is bringing out of hiding. Max’s passive, shy girl who thought of having sex with the lights on as being adventurous is no more. Colton makes me need things I never knew I wanted. He makes me feel sexy. Desirable. Wanted.
I bunch the hem of Colton’s shirt up until my hands graze his abdomen. I run a fingernail across his stomach just above the waistline of his jeans, and I smirk as his lips part and eyes darken with utter need from just my touch alone.
I start to pull his shirt up and off of him. “Let me,” he rasps as he reaches up and grabs the back of the neck of his shirt and pulls it off in one fell swoop as only a man who has no worries of messing up hair or make-up can.
“Just how I like you,” I murmur, taking in his sculpted shoulders and lean torso all the way down to the trail of hair in the middle of the sexy V of muscle that disappears beneath his waistband.
“My body is yours to take advantage of,” he breathes with a sexy smirk hinting at the dirty things he wants me to do to him. He holds his hands out to his sides, offering himself up to me.
I reach out and cup his neck, bringing his face to mine. I press my lips to his and dart my tongue in his mouth, pulling back every time he tries to control the kiss. “I. Want. You.” I whisper.
I skim my fingers down the plains of his torso, nails scratching softly so that his body twitches in reaction. My mouth follows the same path but on a much more leisurely pace. Colton lets his head fall back and groans a soft sound of pure appreciation when I stop and lick the flat disks of his nipples. His hands trail down my arms, up and over my shoulders, and fiddle with the ties at the back of my neck. “Uh, uh, uh,” I chastise, intent on my own pace of seduction. I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes as I lace openmouthed kisses down the skin-gloved muscles of his abdomen. “My turn, Colton.”
I step back from him, never breaking eye contact, raise my hands to the back of my neck, and slowly untie my dress. “It’s a little hot in here, don’t you think, Ace?” I toy with him as I take in a fortifying breath and let the material slowly slide down the curves of my body. I see the fire leap into Colton’s eyes as he takes in what’s underneath. I’ve worn my Agent Provocateur strapless bra and panty set in a rich, dark purple lace that hides little but highlights my figure perfectly in an overtly sexy way for a modest girl like me.
“Sweet Jesus, woman! The sight of you is enough to drive a sane man crazy,” he drawls as his eyes drag their way back up and down my body again. He rubs his thumb over his other fingers as if they are itching to touch me. I step toward him again, my body hyperaware of everything around us and between us. I reach out and lay my palms on his chest, his body quivering in anticipation.
I slide them down and undo the top two buttons of his jeans relieving some of the tension in the stressed seam of denim. My hands slide around the inside of his jeans and boxer briefs and grasp the solid muscles of his very fine ass. I skim my fingers back up and over his lower back while I trace my tongue down the trickle of hair below his belly button. I look up at him as I sink to my knees and very slowly undo the last three buttons of his jeans.
He stares at me beneath eyelids heavy with desire, his lips parted, and need palpable. I lower his jeans and boxer briefs, his iron length springing free. I run my fingers down the dark smattering of hair and grip the base of his shaft. I lean forward and Colton sucks in an audible breath as I circle my tongue lightly around the bell-shaped tip and then flutter it slowly down to the root and back up. My hand moves slowly up and down the veined length while my other hand comes up to cup his balls beneath, gently grazing them with my fingernails.
I look up at Colton and I’m swallowed up by the look in his eyes as he watches me. His jaw flexes in expectancy as my fingers tease him and when I take him very slowly into my mouth, he winces in pleasure before throwing his head back and hissing “Fuccckkk, Ryleeee!”
I tease him gently at first, only taking the tip of him into the warmth of my mouth, rubbing my tongue with pressure on the sensitive underside just beneath the rim of his crest. I twist my hand around his shaft, stimulating him with both friction and wet heat.
When I’ve tormented him enough and can feel the tension in his thighs from anticipation, I sheath my teeth with my lips and take him all the way in until I can feel him hit the back of my throat. The guttural groan that comes from Colton’s lips fills the room as the musky taste of his arousal and evidence of his desire for me churns an exquisite ache that invades the depths of my very core.
I bob my head down his length again, my throat convulsing when I reach maximum depth, and slowly press my tongue on the underside as I pull it back out. I feel Colton’s fingers tangle into my hair as the blissful need for release starts building within him. The harsh exhale of words and beseeching calls of my name, urge me on to move faster. Quicker. I take him deeper and stroke him harder. He suddenly swells some and I can taste a trace of his piquant flavor, both signs he’s close.
“Rylee,” he grates out between clenched teeth, “I’m gonna come, baby. I want to be buried in you when I do.”
The cupping of his hands on my shoulders along with his words causes me to stop. With his length still hard in my mouth, I look up at him to see his face pulled tight with pleasure. A man on the razor thin edge of losing control. He convulses as I hollow my cheeks and pull tightly on him one last time.
My thoughts don’t have enough time to register Colton hauling me to my feet and crushing his mouth to mine with near violent desire. Spirals of sensation whirl through me as he urges my back up against the windowed wall. The anticipation of what’s to come causes the ache to intensify in my groin.
Splinters of my raw need ricochet through my body and straight to my core when the rasp of his calloused fingers find their way beneath my dampened panties. He parts me gently and finds my *, waiting and throbbing for his attention. I grow dizzy wanting more as his fingers to work their magic stimulating my button of nerve endings. His mouth plunders mine, filling me with his addictive taste and claiming all of the responses his fingers are wheedling from me.
“I want you in me, Colton,” I pant out to him when I break from our kiss. These are all the words he needs because he is suddenly lifting me and pulling my legs around his hips. The delicate strap of fabric holding the two triangles of my lace panties together snaps as Colton rips them from me.
I’m no longer the one in control. The notion sends an unexpected thrill through me but the thought is short lived as Colton spans his hands across my sides and lifts me up, pressing me against the wall for leverage, and buries into me all the way to the hilt in simultaneous synchronization. I cry out an inarticulate sound, overcome by the feeling of fullness as he stills so that I can adjust to him.
“Christ, Rylee,” he gasps brokenly, his face buried in my throat. The gentle draw of his mouth on my skin there causes me to dig my fingers into the solidity of his shoulders and slowly flex my hips into him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he pants as he rocks his hips out and then strokes back into my quivering softness.
His body slides against mine, his hands trapped between the glass and my hips, pressing me into him, and pushing himself as deeply as possible. I draw a shuttered breath through parted lips as my body softens and heats up at the same time. “Colton,” I mewl as I accept his voracious tempo that’s pushing me toward the precipice. Filling me until I can hold no more. Connecting us in every way possible. Blood pounds in my ears and sensation rockets through my body as we find each other’s rhythm.
“Hold on, Ry. Not yet!” He commands as he quickens his tempo and brings me closer to the brink. Our lungs pant in short, sharp breaths, hands grip sweat-slickened flesh, and mouths claim any part of the other we can taste.
I can feel my body quickening at the same time Colton stiffens to iron inside me. “Colton,” I warn, my body tensing around him.
“Yes, baby, yes,” he shouts at the same time I’m unable to deny myself another single second. My thighs turn to steel as I crash over the edge, lost in the oblivion of the explosion within me. The intense contraction of my channel grabs hold of Colton and drags him over with me. A litany of pleasure-induced words falls from his lips, his face buried in the curve of my shoulder as his body shudders with his release. We stay like this, connected as one and locked around each other momentarily, until we slowly slide down the wall to the floor. We sit entwined, my face is nuzzled against his throat, and his arms encircle me.
And in this moment, I am completely and utterly his. Swallowed by him. Lost to him and the moment so much so that I am frightened by the power of my feelings.
We sit like this, tangled around each other in a spellbound state without speaking. The lazy tracing of fingers on cooling skin and the reverberation of our hearts against each other is the only communication we need. Our labored breaths finally evening out as the sky falls completely dark and leaving us bathed in moonlight.
I’m afraid to speak. Afraid to ruin the moment between us seeing as the other two times we’ve been intimate, the after effects have not been so positive.
“You okay, Ace?” I ask finally, my foot slowly falling asleep and needing some movement for circulation. Colton grunts an inarticulate sound and I laugh at him, pleased that I reduced him to such incoherence. I try to pull away from him and lean my back against the glass behind me, but he just shifts with me so that his face is now in the crook of my neck. He moans a sigh of satisfied contentment that spears straight into my heart.
My eye catches my torn underwear on the floor and I snicker. “What is it with you and tearing my panties off, huh? I would have gladly stepped out of them for you.” I scratch my nails languorously over his back.
“Takes too long,” he snorts, the movement of his unshaven jaw tickling my hypersensitive skin.
“Those were one of my favorite pairs. Now I don’t have any to match this bra,” I pout fraudulently.
Colton pulls away from me, a bawdy smirk on his lips and humor in his eyes. “Tell me where they’re from and I’ll buy you a hundred sets so long as you stand before me on display like you did tonight.” Colton leans forward placing a languid kiss on my lips. “Better yet,” he says pulling back and tracing a finger along the line where my breast meets the lace of my bra. “Since that is such a mighty fine bra, maybe you should just wear that and nothing else under your clothes. Talk about sexy,” he grunts. “No one would even have to know.”
“You’d know,” I counter arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, I would,” he grins wickedly, “And I’d walk around hard all f*cking day thinking about it.”
I laugh. A deep, soul-baring laugh because I am so overcome with emotions that I’m bubbling over.
“Shall we get off the floor?” He asks as he shifts and unfolds himself from me. He rises, reaching out for my hand, and helping me up to my feet. “The bathroom’s through there,” he points to the wide opening to the left of the bed, “if you want to get cleaned up.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, self conscious in my nudity all of the sudden despite what just transpired between us. I gather my dress, pressing it to my front and look for what’s left of my panties. “What—?” I ask when I can’t find them. I look up to see Colton watching me as he pulls his jeans up over his naked hips, the remnants of my underwear haphazardly stuffed in his front pocket. He stills when my eyes remain on his.
Leaving his fly unbuttoned, he walks to me and reaches out to tug my dress out of my hand. I try to pull it away but I realize his intentions a moment too late. “For God’s sake, Rylee, there’s no need to be shy. After you just stood before me like that?” he shakes his head at me. “You’re hot as hell and having confidence about that is even sexier, sweetheart.” He senses my remaining unease and leans in to brush a kiss on my lips. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he smirks at me but holds my dress out.
I stare at him, naked except for my bra, trying not to fidget. His compliment washes over me and eases my insecurities a tad. I am plain old me and Colton frickin’ Donavan is in front of me. Telling me I am sexy. That he loves my curves. I feel like I need to pinch myself. Instead, I push down my lack of self-confidence and tell myself I can do this. A slow smile quirks at one corner of my mouth as I glance at my dress in his hand, before I very deliberately walk past him without taking it and walk confidently into the bathroom.
I can feel his smile rather than see it when I turn the corner into the oversized bathroom filled with granite and tumbled stone. I release the breath I was holding, proud of myself for having the courage. I glance up at my reflection in the mirror and am pleasantly surprised to see that my bag is sitting on the countertop. Grace must have brought it up.
“Feel free to grab one of my shirts off of the stacks in my closet,” Colton calls to me from the bedroom.
“Um–Okay. Thanks.”
“I’m going to run and get us a drink. Let Baxter out. I’ll be right back. Take your time.”
“Uh-huh,” I reply as I wander around the ridiculously large space. I walk into an open doorway to find a closet that would make Haddie the Clotheshorse cry. I peruse his vast selection of t-shirts and settle on a heather gray one. I press my nose into the fabric and I can smell the laundered scent that makes up at least one part of Colton’s scent that I love so much.
I clean myself up, freshen up my make-up some, pull on a pair of boy-short panties I had brought—because yes, even I knew this was a forgone conclusion—and slip Colton’s shirt over my head.