Chapter 17 Zoey #2
They’re protective, and they love me… but sometimes it feels like they still see me as the girl left behind, not the woman who’s been standing on her own for eight years.
"He didn't mean to scare you," I say softly. "He just wants me safe."
Colt sets his fork down. The look in his eyes isn’t scared. It’s serious.
He nods, but doesn’t say anything else.
Instead, he reaches for the bottle of red wine and pours us each a glass. The wine is rich, smooth, warming my chest as it goes down, and when we finish eating, Colt clears the plates, then takes my hand and leads me to the couch.
We sink into the soft leather, his arm sliding around my shoulders, my head finding its spot against his chest as we listen to the music.
“You know,” he murmurs, his lips close to my ear, “when Delaney told me about the partnership program, I thought it was just another PR thing. Another checkbox.”
“And now?”
“Now I think it’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I tilt my head up to look at him. “Even though it got you saddled with a single mom and a ten-year-old who asks too many personal questions?”
“Don't forget the grumpy brothers.” He grins. "But yes, I think it's possibly the best thing that's ever happened in my life."
My heart does that annoying little stutter, so I curl my fingers into the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.
"Come here," I say, letting my lips meet his.
He kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine, tasting of wine as I moan into his mouth, my hands sliding up to tangle in his damp hair.
"Mmmm," he grunts, licking my tongue and slowly pulling back to bite down on my bottom lip. He tugs gently, then releases it with a slow, deliberate drag that makes my whole body hum.
"Fuck," he breathes against my mouth, his forehead resting against mine. "I missed you today."
I deepen the kiss, the fire in my body suddenly turning hungry as I remember the lingerie in my bag that's sitting by the door. My body arches into his, and I can feel his cock, hard and thick already, pressing against my hip through his jeans.
I can’t help myself.
My hand slips between us, palming the length of him through the denim. Oh God. He’s big. Really big. And so hard it makes my breath catch.
Colt groans, a low, rough sound that vibrates through both of us. But then his hands come up, wrapping around my wrists, slowing me down.
“Hey,” he whispers against my lips. “Wait.”
I pull back just enough to see his face. His eyes are dark, intense, fixed on mine like I’m the only thing in the room. In the world.
But there’s something else there too…
A hesitation I haven’t seen before.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, remembering the first time we were on this couch and it was me who was pulling back.
“Nothing’s wrong.” He brushes a thumb over my cheek. “I just… I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Colt.”
“Then tell me what you want, Zoey.” He stares directly into my eyes, not blinking. "What you really want."
The question hangs between us, heavy and real.
He's not just talking about the kiss, or whatever that kiss leads to.
Is he?
He's talking about us.
I could deflect. God knows I’ve deflected a thousand times in my life. From Daniel, from myself, from every quiet dream I buried under aprons and school runs and 4 AM alarms.
But I'm the woman who used to be loud, who used to take what she wanted without apology.
So tonight…
Tonight, for once in my life… I take what I want.
I rub my palm over his cock again, feeling him twitch beneath the denim. He hisses a sharp breath above me, and I lean in, pressing my lips to the pulse beating at the base of his throat.
I whisper against his skin, “I want you to take me to the bedroom. I have a surprise for you.”
Colt goes still. “A surprise, huh?”
I grip his cock hard, squeezing through his jeans. “Mmhmm.”
He stands, taking my hand in his, and leads me down the hallway to his bedroom.
At the door, I stop.
“Wait here,” I tell him, squeezing his fingers. “I just need two minutes.”
His eyes search mine, curious, heated. Then he nods and watches me slip into the bathroom and close the door behind me.
My fingers tremble as I peel off my clothes, and the woman in the mirror looks unfamiliar. Flushed cheeks. Bright eyes. Hair a mess from his hands.
Her lips are swollen from his kiss, and I reach into my bag and pull out the black lace lingerie. The set is even more beautiful than I remember. Delicate straps, intricate patterns, satin trim.
I step into the panties, pulling them up over my hips. They fit perfectly, hugging the curve of my ass, the lace dipping low in the front.
The bra is trickier because my hands are shaking. But I manage to fasten it, adjusting the cups, and then…
I look at myself in the mirror.
The lace cuts across my skin, black against the pale tone of my body. It’s daring. Sexy. Maybe a little too much for the mother of a ten year old.
But it's exactly what I wanted five years ago, I just never had the courage to wear it.
Tonight, I have the courage.
I take a deep breath, my fingers curling around the door handle. The lace feels foreign against my skin—daring, delicate, completely unlike me.
Or maybe exactly like the me I used to be.
I pull the door open.
Colt’s leaning against the wall just outside, arms crossed. The moment he sees me, his entire body goes still.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes, the words rough, stripped bare.
His eyes darken, sweeping down my body and back up, so slowly I feel every inch of that gaze like he's touching me.
He pushes off the wall, and his warm hands slide over my hips, up my sides, skimming the lace.
“Zoey,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts through the delicate fabric. “Look at you.”
I swallow, my heart hammering. “Too much?”
“Fuck no.” His voice drops to a deep gravelly tone that peaks my nipples against the lace. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
He leans in, his lips brushing my shoulder, tracing the strap. His hands slide around to my back, then lower, over the curve of my ass.
He squeezes, and I gasp.
“This,” he says against my skin, “is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
One hand drifts lower, his fingers tracing the soft swell of my belly… the part I’ve never quite gotten back after Morgan, the stretch marks I’ve hidden for years. I tense instinctively, but Colt doesn’t pause.
He kisses each mark like it’s a map he’s memorizing.
“So soft,” he murmurs, his lips trailing lower. “So goddamn perfect. All of you.”
Tears prick my eyes, but they’re not sad.
They’re… relief.
He sweeps me up, one arm under my knees, the other behind my back, and carries me to the bed. The sheets are cool, soft, smelling like him as he lays me down, then kneels between my legs.
His hands slide up my thighs, pushing them apart.
“Colt—”
“Shhh. I've missed this pussy so fucking much.” He leans down, his breath warm against my inner thigh. “I’ve been dreaming about this all day… you know that?”
He leans in and his tongue finds my clit through the lace.
I cry out, arching off the bed instantly. Heat thrums through my body, and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of the panties, dragging them down my legs and tossing them aside.