CHAPTER 25
The cool air that wisps over my skin is a stark contrast to the radiating heat pressing against me. My sleep-induced haze slowly clears from my mind as my eyes flutter open, startled and squinting at the natural light filtering in through the open windows. Awareness seeps into me of where I am—whom I’m with—when I hear the crash of surf below mixed with the cry of seagulls.
I start to shift in the sinfully comfortable bed, wanting to stretch my muscles that oddly I find sore, until I realize why. Sex, sex, and more sex. A smug smile crosses my lips at the thought of actually being sore from having too much sex. And it’s not a complaint.
The other obstacle preventing my movement is the source of heat keeping me warm despite the chilly morning breeze flowing in from outside. I am lying on my back and Colton is wrapped around me like a vine. He is on his side, one leg bent and slung over mine, and his hand splays possessively over my bare chest with his palm cupping my breast. I turn to find his head half on my pillow, half on his.
I study his face: the angles, the fan of thick, dark lashes against his golden skin, the curve adding character to the ridge of his nose. I reach over and brush an errant lock of hair off his forehead, careful not to disturb him. In sleep, Colton’s dark and dangerous aura is softened by his disheveled hair, the absence of the intensity he carries around like a badge of protection, and the lack of tension in his jaw. I enjoy seeing this rare glimpse of him vulnerable and relaxed, his kissable lips parted in tranquil sleep.
Staring at him, my mind drifts back to last night. I recall his complete and unyielding attentiveness to me and my every need. I think of the new experiences he introduced me to and the pleasure he’s induced in me. My thoughts stray to leather restraints, vibrating eggs, and ice cubes inserted to melt as we became one, evoking that walk down the fine line of pleasure edged by pain. I think of how he showed me slow and soft before pushing me to the brink of oblivion by hard and fast. How by the light of the moon, in this expanse of a bed, he hovered over me, eyes intense, voice beseeching, and asked me to submit to him. Asked that I trust him to know what my body can handle and which threshold to push it to. And in that moment I was so captivated with him, I handed myself over to him without question or second thought. I agreed, knowing he already dominated my mind, heart, and body.
Afterwards, as I drifted off to sleep, his warm body pressed against my back and his mouth pressing softly in my hair, I questioned my judgment. My last thoughts before drifting off to sleep wondering what the hell I was getting myself in to by accepting his seemingly innocent request, for what is simple under a blanket of moonlight never seems to be when the next morning dawns.
Colton shifts beside me, rolling over so that his back is now toward me, and pulls the covers with him and off me. I shiver at the chill now that my human heater is gone, but happy that I can now stretch out my overused muscles. I wince as I flex my feet and extend my legs. I definitely wasn’t treated like glass last night, and if the unconscious oblivion called sleep I collapsed into afterward is any indication, I think my body quite liked it too.
I’m starting to get cold. I look over at the artfully sculpted lines of Colton’s back and I turn into him, tucking my body around him so that I can enjoy the feeling of my bare skin against his. My chin rests on his shoulder and my breasts pillow against his back as I curl my arms around him, comforted by his masculinity. I absently run my fingers across his chest as I slowly sink back into sleep.
I’m in that suspended state of the first stages of slumber when all of the sudden several things happen simultaneously and what seems to be in slow motion. Colton emits the most gut-wrenching, feral cry I’ve ever heard. I would’ve remained frozen in shock but he bucks his body violently back against me, connecting his elbow against my shoulder. “No!” falls from his mouth in a strangled shout. He jumps from the bed and turns around, legs spread, knees bowed, arms bent, and hands fisted in front of his face. His face is the picture of terror: eyes wild and haunted, flickering constantly, teeth clenched, and tendons straining in his neck. His chest heaves shallow breaths, body tense and vibrating with acute awareness as sweat beads on his forehead.
I instinctively grab my shoulder where it is smarting with pain. The shock of what just happened sinking in, my adrenaline pumping now so that my body shakes from its effects. If I hadn’t seen this kind of reaction from a nightmare before from some of my kids, I think I would be more startled and unsure than I am right now. If Colton didn’t have such a look of complete fear in his eyes and reflected on his face, I would have laughed at him standing nude, looking like he’s ready to throw down. But I know this isn’t a joke. I understand that Colton has had a dream dredging up the past that silently chases him and continues to traumatize him on a daily basis.
I roll my shoulder, the ache still present. “Colton,” I say evenly, not wanting to startle to him.
At my words I can see his eyes slowly come into focus at the room before him and the tension in his stance slowly abates. He turns his head and looks at me, a plethora of emotions in his eyes: embarrassment, shame, relief, fear, and apprehension. “Oh, f*ck!” He shudders a breath, bringing his hands up to rub the fear from his face. The only sounds in the room are his heaving breaths, hand chafing over his stubble, and the ocean outside.
“Fuuuccckkk!” he repeats again, his eyes narrowing on my hand rubbing my shoulder. I can see him clench and unclench his fists as he realizes he’s hurt me somehow. I remain still as his eyes lower and his shoulders slouch. “Rylee—I—” he turns abruptly and grabs the back of his neck with his hand, pulling down. “Give me a f*cking minute,” he mutters as he quickly strides into the bathroom.
I gather the sheets up to my chest and watch him leave, wanting to reach out to him and tell him things he doesn’t believe or want to hear about what just happened. I sit there in indecision of what to do next when I hear the unmistakable sound of Colton vomiting. A knife twists deep down in my gut, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting desperately to comfort him.
The toilet flushes followed by a muttered curse and then I hear the faucet turn on and the brushing of teeth. I rise from the bed, sliding Colton’s shirt on when I hear him sigh again with his favored curse of the morning. I enter the bathroom, needing to make sure he is okay. I know he notes my presence for he stops the hand towel in mid-motion to his face when he senses me. We stand there frozen momentarily as he focuses on the water running from the faucet. His angst is palpable and smothers the air between us. Colton scrubs the towel over his face and turns toward me.
When he drops the towel from his face, the eyes that stare back at me are not his. The ones I’ve come to love. They are dead. Cold. Devoid of emotion. The muscle in his jaw pulses and the cords in his neck strain as he works his throat.
“Colton…” His glazed green eyes glare intently on mine causing any more words I’d planned to say falter on my lips.
“Don’t, Rylee,” he warns. “You need to leave.” His command is flat. As lifeless as his eyes.
My heart lurches into my chest. What happened to him? What memory has reduced this vibrant, passionate man to nothing. “Colton,” I plead.
“Go, Rylee. I don’t want you here.”
My bottom lip trembles at his words for he can’t possibly mean them after the evening we’ve just shared. I saw the emotion in his eyes last night. Felt from his actions how he feels about me. But now … all I can do is stare at him, the man before me unrecognizable.
The pain and fear before when he awoke from his dream was so obvious that all I wanted to do was to comfort him. Now I’m not quite sure what to do. I take a step forward and I hear his teeth grind in reaction. I’ve worked with traumatized children but I am way out of my element here. I look down at my clasped hands and whisper brokenly, “I just want to help.”
“Get out!” he roars causing my head to snap up in time to see his dead eyes spark to life with unfiltered anger. “Get the f*ck out, Rylee! I don’t want you here! Don’t need you here!”
I stand there frozen, his unprovoked anger immobilizing me. “You don’t mean that,” I stutter.
“Like hell I don’t!” he yells, the sound echoing off of the stone tiles and reverberating. Our eyes hold in silence as I process the hurt he’s spewing. In the back of my mind I know there’s a reason for this—for his actions—but my mind is so jumbled with the hurt and shock from his venom that I can’t rationally process anything. Colton takes a threatening step toward me and I just stare at him shaking my head. He throws the towel with a curse, the clatter of bottles it knocks over ricocheting around the pin-drop quiet bathroom. His eyes angle back toward mine as he clenches and unclenches his jaw. When he speaks, his voice is chillingly cruel. “I’ve f*cked you, Rylee, and now I’m done with you! I told you that’s all I was good for, sweetheart…”
His brow creases momentarily as the tears that burn the back of my throat well in my eyes and spill over. The hurt from his callous words turning my stomach and wringing my heart. My head tells my legs to move—to leave—but my body doesn’t listen. When I just stand there, dumbfounded and shell-shocked, he grabs my bag from the bathroom counter and strides forward to shove it forcefully against my chest, propelling me backward through the door I had just entered. “Out!” he grates through gritted teeth, growling at me for good measure. His bare chest heaving. His pulse pounding in his temple. His fists clenched. “I’m bored with you already. Can’t you see that? You’ve served your purpose. A quick amusement to bide my time. Now I’m done. Get out!”
Blinded by tears, I fumble with my bag and run blindly down the stairs. I can feel the weight of his stare on my back as I descend. I race through the house, my heart lodged in my throat and my head an absolute mess. My chest hurts so bad that pain radiates in it as I drag in each labored breath. Thoughts elude me. Hurt engulfs me. Regret fills me for I thought what between us was so much more.
I burst through the front door and into the brightness of the early morning sun, but all I feel is the darkness in my heart. I stagger, drop my purse, and fall to my knees to retrieve it. I sit like that, staring at a beautiful morning, but seeing none of it.
Letting the tears wash over me.
Allowing the humiliation to consume me.
Feeling my heart break into two.
THE END
Colton and Rylee’s journey
continues in Book #2 of The Driven Trilogy
FUELED
Please leave a review on Amazon
and then keep reading for an excerpt
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I HAVE TO START by thanking my husband, friend, and partner in crime, J.P. When Rylee and Colton started buzzing around in my head, he looked at me and said, “What are you waiting for, write the book already. Quit talking about it and just do it!” So thank you for pushing me to take the chance. And then when I started dragging my feet with nerves whether the story was good enough, thank you for telling me to press the “go” button repeatedly. Thank you for keeping the kids happy and entertained so that mommy had time to write. And for trying to understand that even when a scene was stressing me out, the chance to write, allowed me to relax. Thank you for understanding and not being upset the many times when you went to bed alone and I stayed up with Colton for a little while longer. And more important than anything, thank you for telling me endlessly how beautiful I am, inside and out, even when I felt/feel ugly. Your words have given me confidence and a sense of self that I’ve lacked for so long.
To my three wonderful, beautiful, demanding, headstrong, passionate, loving and very active children for letting mommy sit at the computer a minute longer than she should have when you needed a refilled glass or help with something so that I wouldn’t lose that thought in my head. You’ve taught me what true, unconditional love is and that a bad day truly can be erased with the grace of your smile, the sound of your giggle, or the squeeze of your hug. You are my world, my life, my happiness. I love you.
To my parents, who have probably read every horrible and not so horrible story I have written throughout my life, thank you for always being my number one fan and believing in me. For always surrounding me with positivity and encouragement. For taking chances in life to show me that most times the risk is worth it. For showing me humility, that sometimes less is definitely more, and for demonstrating what true love looks like. Thank you for always wanting more for me than you ever had.
To my sister, for always being great at everything so that I always had a bar to hold my accomplishments against. Thank you for being my friend and an ear to use when I needed it the most.
To the rest of my family (MC, SB, RK, BB) and everyone else I’m not mentioning, thank you for your support. To AK, for sharing my love of reading as well as helping promote my book—and for being the only person I can ask what the rating is on a book and knowing exactly what I’m talking about. Thank you to all my other friends that didn’t look at me like I was crazy when I told them I wrote a book and for being supportive (even if it’s not their type of book) – you know who you are, so thank you.
Thank you to Sarah Barbour at Aeroplane Media for the wonderful copy-editing on Driven and for unknowingly soothing my nerves with some of her comments. Thank you to Deborah at Tugboat Designs for not telling me “What?” when I said I don’t know what I wanted but that I definitely didn’t want a person on the cover. And then when she gave me mock images, for not getting whiplash when all of the sudden I knew exactly what I wanted and it was definitely the image of the woman’s hip that we ended up using.
Thank you to all of the BLOGGERS out there! If you didn’t do what you do on your sites, there would never be a chance for independent authors such as myself to succeed. So thank you for reading my emails, accepting my ARC’s, offering to give me space on their blogs, and for taking the time to read a debut novel and offer a review—especially during a crazy month with so many other great releases. Thank you for being patient with me as I figured out the correct protocol in going about all of this. Thank you for taking the chance on me. A special thank you to Emily of the SubClub—you were the first person to finish the ARCs I sent out and your comments allowed me to own the confidence I felt in the story I’d written. Thank you to Jess from Fab, Fun, and Tantalizing Reads for commenting on Goodreads as she read her ARC and starting a buzz about Driven on that site.
And thank you to you—the reader—for taking a chance on an unknown author with a debut novel. I hope that you fell in love/hate with Rylee and Colton as much as I have. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I promise the story only gets better and more intense in Fueled.
If you enjoyed Driven, please take a moment to give it a rating on Amazon as those ratings are so very important to us independent authors. I’d love to hear what you thought of Driven as well. Feel free to visit my webpage (www.kbromberg.com), Facebook page (https://facebook.com/authorkbromberg), Goodreads (http://goodreads.com/Kbromberg), Pinterest (http://pinterest.com/kbrombergwrites/driven/), or just plain drop me an email at [email protected].
Have you left a review on Amazon for Driven? If so, feel free to turn the page and read an excerpt from Fueled, (Book #2 of The Driven Trilogy) with an expected date of publication of August 2013.
Excerpt from Fueled
(Book #2 of the Driven Trilogy)
(Please note that all rights are reserved and Copyrighted © by K. Bromberg)
“You really said that to him?” Haddie asks incredulously, the look on her face over-exaggerated and hilariously funny.
“I swear!” I told her, holding up my hand in testament. I look down at my phone where a text just pinged. It’s from Colton, and all it says is:
“Get this Party Started” – Pink.
Haddie doesn’t notice the odd look on my face when I read it because she is concentrating on filing her nails. What the hell?
“Shit! I’d have loved to see his face when you shut that door.”
“I know,” I laugh. “It felt kind of good to leave him stunned for once rather than the other way around.”
“See, I told you!” she says, pushing on my knee.
I look at my watch. It’s seven o’clock and I’m mentally trying to calculate the time difference, to know if I should worry yet that Tanner hasn’t texted me of his safe landing.
“You have about twelve more hours,” she tells me, knowing that I fret about his safety like a mother hen. “Besides the testosterone-fest with Colton, did you Tanner have a nice visit?”
“Yes,” I smile softly. “It was so good to see him. I don’t realize how much I missed him until-“ a knock on the door interrupts me. I look over at Haddie, my eyes asking her who could be knocking on our door at seven o’clock on a Friday night.
“No clue,” she shrugs getting up to answer it since I have a slew of work papers strewn across my lap and on the couch beside me.
Moments later I hear laughter and voices and Haddie exclaiming, “Well look what the cat drug in!”
Curious, I start to clear my papers to stand when Haddie enters the family room, a broad smile on her face. “Someone’s here to see you,” she says, a knowing look on her face.
Before I can ask her who it is, Colton comes barreling into the room in a less than graceful stride with a laughing Beckett right behind him. Something’s amiss with Colton, and I’m not sure what it is until he sees me. A goofy grin spreads across his face and it looks out of place against the intensity of his striking features. Luckily I’m shuffling up my papers because he plops down right beside me. “Rylee!” he shouts enthusiastically as if he hasn’t seen me in weeks. He reaches out to haul me onto his lap, and all I can do is laugh because I realize that Mr. Cool and Always in Control is a tad bit drunk. No, make that well on his way to being drunk. Before I can even respond to his sudden appearance, Colton’s mouth closes over mine.
I resist at first because I’m laughing, but once his tongue delves into my mouth and I taste him, I’m a goner. I groan in acceptance and lick my tongue against his. It’s only been a few days but god I missed this. Missed him. I forget that other people are in the room when Colton tangles his hand in my hair and takes possession of me, holding me so that all I can do is react. He tastes of beer and mints and everything I want. I bow my back so that my chest presses to his, my nipples tingling as they brush against the firm warmth of his chest. Colton swallows the moan he’s coaxed from me when his arousal pushes up through my thin pajama pants and rubs against me.
“Should we clear the room?” I hear Haddie say and then she clears her throat loudly, shocking me back reality.
I pull my head back from Colton, but his hand remains fisted in my hair. He rests his forehead to mine as we both draw in ragged breaths of need. After a beat, he throws his head back on the couch and laughs loudly, his whole body shaking from its force, before choking out, “Shit, I needed that!”
I start to scramble off his lap, suddenly aware that I’m wearing a very thin camisole tank with some very aroused nipples sans bra, and Beckett, whom I’ve only met once, is sitting across from me. Before I can even cross my arms over my chest, Colton’s arms grip me from behind and pull me back against him. “Hey!” I shout.
“You’re coming with us,” Colton announces loudly.
Haddie raises her eyebrows at me, amusement on her face at my flustered expression. “Colton, let me go!” I sputter loudly in between laughs, trying to wriggle out of his iron tight hold on me. He simply holds me tighter, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Nope! Not until you agree that you’re going with us. You and Haddie are going on a little road trip with Becks and I.” I start to wiggle again, and I feel Colton’s free hand slip up to cup my breast through my shirt, his thumb brushing over my nipple. I suck in a breath at his touch and embarrassment floods my cheeks.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he teases, his breath feathering over my cheek. “Every time you fight me baby, I’m gonna cop a feel.” He nips at the skin between my shoulder and my neck, his arousal thickening beneath my lap. “So please Rylee,” he begs, “please, fight me.”
I roll my eyes at him and laugh loudly, Haddie and Beckett joining in. Drunken Colton equals a very playful Colton. I like this side of him.
“Typical male,” I tease. “Always misguided and thinking with the head in his pants.”
He pulls me tighter against him; one arm around my shoulders while the other is around my waist. “Well then, don’t be afraid to blow my mind,” he murmurs, a low, seductive growl in my ear that has me laughing from the corniness of the line all the while tensing at suggestion of it.
“So get your asses up pretty ladies and get ready!” he suddenly orders, breaking our connection, pushing me to my feet, and swatting my backside.
“What are you talking about?” I ask at the same time Haddie pipes up asking where are we going?
Beckett laughs out loud at Haddie’s all-in reaction before bringing a bottle of beer to his lips. “Hey!” Colton shouts. “Don’t be drinking my beer you bastard or I’ll take you down.”
“Chill out Wood,” he chuckles. “You left yours on the table by the front door.”
“Shit!” he grumbles, “I’m a man in need of a beer and of women to get their asses moving. Time’s a wasting!”
“What in the hell are you talking about Ace?” I turn to him, arms across my chest.
A slow, roguish grin spreads across his lips as he stares at me. “Vegas baby!”
Mysterious text solved.
“What?” Haddie and I shout, but both with different meanings. There is no possible way I am going to Las Vegas right now. What in the hell?
Colton holds up his phone, biting his lip as he tries to concentrate on its screen, and I realize he’s trying to tell the time. “We’ll be back in the morning, but wheels up in one hour Rylee so you better get that fine ass of yours moving!”
What? We’re flying? What am I even thinking? I’m not going anywhere. “Colton, you can’t possibly be serious!”
He pushes himself up from the couch, and looks a little wobbly before getting control. He looks down at me, an errant lock of hair falling over his forehead with his shirt untucked on the right side. “Do I need to pick you up over my shoulder and haul you to your bedroom to show you just how serious I am sweetheart?”
I look over at Beckett for some kind of help. He just shrugs his shoulders, silently laughing at our banter. “I’d just give in Rylee,” he drawls winking at me. “He doesn’t give up when he’s in this mood. I suggest you go get changed.”
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I look over at Haddie who has excitement dancing in her eyes. “C’mon Ry.” She prompts, “It couldn’t hurt to escape with everything that’s going on tomorrow,” she murmurs. “Have a little fun and forget a little.” I nod at her and her smile widens. She whoops loudly, “We’re going to Vegas baby!”
Beckett stands from the chair asking for the bathroom. Haddie offers to show him while she goes and gets ready. I turn to face Colton but am caught off guard as he swoops me up and over his shoulder, swatting my butt as he carries me rather unsteadily toward the hallway.
“Colton stop!” I shriek, smacking his ass in turn.
He just laughs loudly. “Which room is yours?” I squeal as he tickles my feet. “Tell me woman or I’ll be forced to torture you some more!”
Oh, I definitely like drunk and playful Colton!
“Last door on the right,” I screech as he tickles me some more before throwing me unceremoniously onto my bed. I am out of breath from laughing and before I can even speak, Colton’s body is flanking mine, pressing me into the mattress. The feeling of his weight on me, pressing intimately against me, creates a crack in my resolve. So much for being aloof.
His mouth captures mine and his tongue plunders into my mouth. I slide my hands up and under the hem of his shirt and run my hands up the planes of his back. The kiss is full of greed, angst, and passion, and I know I’m losing myself in it. To him. His hands roam, touching every inch of my bare skin he can find as if he needs this connection to tell him everything is all right between us. There is a change I can feel, but cannot describe in the way he’s kissing me. As if our union is reassuring him. Confirming that whatever’s between us, is still there. And I can’t help but wonder if this is what he feels when I kiss him.
I freeze when I hear a knock on the doorjamb. “C’mon loverboy,” Beckett chuckles uncomfortably, “Rein it in. You can do that later. Right now we’ve got a plane to catch.”
Colton rolls off of me groaning as he adjusts his arousal in his jeans. “You’re such a buzz kill Becks!”
“That’s why you love me brother!” he laughs as he retreats down the hall giving me some privacy to get ready.
Colton props his hands behind his head and crosses his feet at the ankles as I scoot off of the bed to get ready. “God you look sexy right now,” Colton says, his eyes focused on my nipples pressing against the think cotton of my tank.
“She’ll look sexier in about twenty minutes if you can get the hell out and let her do her thing,” Haddie says unabashedly as she breezes in my room holding a handful of barely-there dresses on hangers for me to look at.
“Well shit,” Colton says pushing himself up off of the mattress, “I guess I’ve been told. Time for another beer.”
Fueled
Coming August 2013
(Please note that this is not the final version – changes may be made in the editing process)
About the Author:
K. Bromberg was born and raised in Southern California. She graduated from University of California at San Diego with two bachelors—economics and political science—but always loved to write.
K. Bromberg remains in Southern California with her husband and their three young children. When not writing or working her day job, she can be found playing ninjas or power rangers with her son, fixing the hair of her oldest daughter’s American girl doll, trying to potty train her youngest daughter, or listening to any or all of them fight/whine at once. When she needs a break from the daily chaos, you can almost always find her with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good book or mentally outlining her next set of characters.
Driven is K. Bromberg’s first published novel and the first book in “The Driven Trilogy.”
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