Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
Rowan
Things are weird between Colt and I for a few days, even after he sets his plans with Emmett. It’s easier to keep things more professional at work and just stick to our jobs, but at home, it’s uncomfortable.
We both have so much to say, and we have a lot of things to figure out together, but until he talks with his son, there’s no point in saying or doing any of it. If Emmett isn’t on board with this, Colt will leave me behind without a second thought.
We don’t sleep in the same bed or even share so much as a kiss, which is the most miserable feeling in the world. To spend all this time at home with him, knowing we want each other as badly as we do, and to be unable to act on it without feeling like an ax is hanging over our heads.
By the sixth day, I’m so desperate for real, physical contact with him, I catch myself teasing him any chance I get.
I start with more subtle things, like flipping my spoon over onto my tongue and pulling it through my lips as sensually as I possibly can, then I throw the subtlety out the door and work my way up to things more glaringly obvious that don’t leave much of anything to his imagination.
I walk around in my sexiest bra and panty set on laundry day while ‘waiting for my clothes to dry,’ and ‘accidentally’ open a package containing my brand-spanking-new bullet vibrator in front of him, making sure to comment that I’ve never used one before and how much I hope I like it.
I’m not exactly proud of it, but I want him to be the one to break down and cross that newly-minted border between us. He’s the one who put it up, after all.
I can hear Colt come back from his fifth midnight run this week – he went on two, last night – and I decide that enough is enough. I jump out of bed and slip off my pajama shorts, leaving only my panties behind; I chose a black pair of bikini panties tonight, made almost entirely of lace.
They’re not the most comfortable thing in my wardrobe, but I’ve made sure every night this week that I’ve had on something sexy, just in case.
I pull open most of the buttons on Colt’s shirt, draped loosely enough over my body that I’m swimming in it, leaving only two secured together at the middle. If I move even an inch in the wrong direction, my entire boob will be out on display.
What a tragedy that would be.
Mussing my hair a bit, I head out toward the kitchen, where he should be making a protein shake, if he’s sticking to the same routine he’s had lately.
Sure enough, when I stroll into the kitchen, he’s standing at the counter, reaching into a cabinet for his favorite protein powder.
He would never admit it if he was asked, but he’s a birthday cake flavor kind of guy.
His shirt pulls tightly across his toned back as he reaches for it and the veins in his arms flex with his movements, and I think I might actually die.
I watch him for a minute as he scoops out a serving of the powder and dumps it into a shaker bottle filled with water, screws on the cap, and grips it tightly in his huge hand to shake it, mixing the powder and water together.
Already, I can feel heat rising to my cheeks – it’s honestly a little embarrassing how desperate for him I’ve become in just a matter of days.
“I know you’re there, Rowan,” he announces before setting his drink on the countertop.
I make a show of combing my hair out with my fingers as I stride casually toward the cabinet next to him, opening it, and lifting myself onto my tiptoes to reach for a glass on a shelf higher than I need to, kicking one leg out behind me as I reach.
“How was your run?” I ask, feeling the burn of his eyes on my ass.
“Fine.”
The heat of his body radiates from behind me as he effortlessly reaches for the same shelf I’m aiming for. He wraps his hand around a glass and he presses it into my hand before moving away from me, and I have to fight back the frustrated sigh that wants to shoot out of my mouth.
Instead, I get into his eye line and give him a playful, teasing smile as I walk to the fridge and press my glass against the trigger for the water dispenser.
“Is that my shirt?”
With my glass now full, I turn to face him and throw another smile, this time biting my lip as I nod at him.
“It’s comfy, I borrowed it,” I say. “Anyway, sleep well, Colt.”
As I walk away – I’m not proud of this, I want to make that very clear – I pretend to trip, spilling the glass of water all down the front of me.
Now soaking wet, the shirt clings to my body, almost completely see through, and the ice-cold water makes my nipples instantly stiffen against the fabric.
I turn toward Colt, wearing a surprised look on my face.
I should be embarrassed by the obviously-phony display that I’m putting on, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and sometimes a girl has to do what a girl has to do when her man is being this stubborn.
“Oh, crap. I’m so sorry,” I tell him, brushing my hands over my chest, acting as if I’m trying to brush away any excess water. “I’ll get this dry cleaned in the morning.”
God, just teasing him like this has me wet.
I scoot past him to the sink and set the glass down. I barely have time to take a breath before Colt’s body is pressed hard against me, pinning me in place between him and the counter top. His hands slam onto the counter on either side of me.
“What are you doing, Rowan,” he growls into my ear, his voice husky and dangerous.
Pressing my ass further against him, I can feel his dick twitch against me as I purr back, “Just getting a drink, Mr. Fowler.”
His big hands grab me, turning me roughly until my chest is pressed hard against his, the edge of the counter digging into the small of my back. His breathing is heavy and I can tell he’s at war with himself.
This little break was supposed to be a detox. We were going to wait until he spoke with Emmett – get our minds clear before then and make absolutely sure that this thing between us is real. I should feel bad for this, but I don’t. Not even a little bit.
His hand wraps around my throat before sliding up toward my jaw, and he slams into me with a bruising kiss that takes my breath away.
I tangle a hand in his hair as his mouth takes claim of my neck, sucking and nipping at the tender skin just below my ear, and I let out a quiet moan in response.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he tells me, “you know that?”
“Uh-huh,” I whimper in response.
“How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you when you look this perfect?”
I wrap my leg around his waist and he brings a hand down to cup my ass, offering support as he takes my mouth again, and I grind my hips against him. The throbbing between my legs is almost painful. God, I need him.
I fumble with his shirt, pulling it roughly over his head, and throw it to the side so I can marvel at his body. Every muscle, every curve. The glisten still on his chest from his workout.
He bites at my lower lip, earning a whine in response, before pressing his mouth against mine, hard, and pulling away.
Panting, I reach for the waistband on his joggers and try to pull him closer to me.
“We can’t,” he says, shaking his head.
“We can,” I try to argue. “We have.”
“Dinner is tomorrow.”
Not succeeding in pulling him to me, the stubborn statue, I use his waistband to pull myself to him and press a kiss to his chest.
“Let me touch you,” I beg, trailing kisses along the line of body hair that seems designed by nature to tell me exactly where to go to make him feel good. “I want to taste you.”
I work my hands around his waistband, slowly pulling his pants with me as I lower myself to my knees. The only response he offers is a warning, “Rowan…”
I look up at him with a smile, biting my lip as I free his cock from its cotton blend prison, already swollen and slick with arousal.
He leans against the island behind him as I slide my tongue across his tip, eyes locked on his. I watch his breath hitch as I pull the tip of his dick into my mouth and wrap my hands around the rest of it, working the three in unison.
Colt’s eyes flutter closed and he drops his head back behind him as he grabs onto my hair, gently pushing my head to match the rhythm he wants.
“Jesus, baby,” he moans, and a beam of pride shoots through my chest. He brings his gaze back to me and says, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
His words make me buckle, and I get greedy, taking a hand away from him to shove it into my panties. I whimper as I keep my mouth on him and my fingers toy with my clit, sending waves of electric shivers down my spine.
It’s a matter of seconds before I explode in a devastating wave of pleasure, trying to keep steady suction on Colt and keep myself from crying out.
His grip tightens in my hair until his breathing becomes ragged and his head falls back once again. “Fuck, Rowan, I’m—”
Taking his cue, and suddenly a little intimidated – a banana can teach you a lot of things, but it can’t prepare you for this - I pull my mouth away, letting my tongue stick out just a little, and I use my hands to work his dick until his stomach tightens and he lets out a deep groan.
I flinch as the warm jets shoot onto my tongue, waiting until he’s finished before I risk opening my eyes.
I look up at him, making sure he can see his cum pooled onto my tongue, then I pull it back into my mouth and swallow down the salty, but somehow a little bit sweet, liquid.
Colt scrubs a hand through his hair and heaves a breath. “God, that was fucking hot.”
I carefully rise to a standing position, wearing an absolutely ridiculous smile and I know it, and he brushes his thumb over my lower lip.
“No more of that until after dinner, got it?”
Giving him a wicked smile, I nod. “Yes sir, Mr. Fowler.”
I press a kiss to his lips and turn on my heel, heading straight for my room, and that little bullet.