CHAPTER THIRTY
RILEY
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Friend?
What else could he introduce me as? I am only a friend. But it felt horrible hearing him refer to me as just an acquaintance when he’d had his face between my legs while we sailed across the Hudson River for hours today.
Colt has licked every inch of my body—and I mean every inch—that in itself was exciting and shocking and had pleasure roaring through me.
I know Sebastian is one of his best friends, and not once has he mentioned he’s getting married this weekend.
The few minutes Sebastian was here told me more about this man I’ve been intimate with than I’ve learned in weeks.
His friend is about to tie the knot, his soon-to-be wife is pregnant, Colt is part of the wedding party, and I’m not important enough for him to tell them about.
I’ll be on my way home when the wedding takes place, I assume, but the fact this big event was not worth mentioning to me tells me one big thing.
This is all about sex.
For all I know, this stupid black bracelet was something he got in Chelsea Market. The more I think about it as we drive back to the penthouse, the angrier I get. Colt shared a guest code for his apartment, so I don’t need him.
“Just. Just pull over here, and I can race up myself. You can head to work or see your buddies.”
“Riley?” Colt grabs my arm as I climb out.
“Yes.” I don’t look at him.
I wait.
And wait.
Finally, when I turn, I see the truth in his eyes. He wants me, but he also wants to have his cake and eat it too.
“Stay. I don’t need to go into work.”
I need some time away from him to clear my head. To coincide what just happened with the man I’ve spent all this time with.
I shake my head.
His hand drops away, and a chill fills the cab of his vehicle. His jaw tenses, and an invisible barrier drops between us.
“Fine. I’ll be home in a few hours. Order dinner if I’m not back in time.”
Oh, really? Is that how he wants to play this? I don’t think so. He’s the one keeping secrets and hiding me from everyone.
I climb out, put a hand on the car as I lean in and say, “If I’m not home when you get back, don’t wait up.”
Colt’s brows shoot to the top of his forehead as I slam the door shut.
How dare he!
I stride through the lobby with my head held high, and when the elevator finally takes me up to his penthouse, I collapse onto the sofa and let the tears flow.
Colt Winters is just a rich playboy.
I’ve been nothing but his toy.