Chapter 30
Thirty
Colt
“You going to tell me about it?” I ask late that night, Kylie’s slender body pressed close to mine, my good arm curled around her shoulders.
And it’s not lost on me that I’ve gone from not being able to touch her—this woman I’ve wanted for so long—to having her in my bed, cuddled close.
“About what?”
I kiss the top of her head, draw her even closer to my side. “About the look on your face when you came home today.”
It hadn’t been the right time to talk, not then, not with the guys deciding they’d keep me company as Doc had “tortured” me.
Okay, so less torture and more exam and making sure the doctors in Utah had done right by me.
I’ll have to wait until later in the week and everything stabilizes before I start the exercises.
Annoying that it won’t be the stitches or concussion keeping me out of the game.
But the fucking shoulder because I fell wrong.
And have now earned the nickname Klutz because it sounds so close to Colt.
Which it doesn’t, of course, but Knox is an asshole and the other guys thought it was hilarious, so there’s no use fighting it.
That shit is going to stick, and it’ll just be worse if I make a big deal about it.
“It’s nothing,” she says, the beautiful liar.
“Tell me,” I order.
She presses her hand onto my chest, lifting up so she can scowl at me. “Orders…Klutz?”
“Rude.” I tug at the strand of her hair that always escapes to fall forward and curl over her cheek. Tonight, it’s slipped free of the braid she attempted to corral it into after she got ready for bed.
I watched as she brushed her teeth and slapped shit on her face, as she changed into pajamas that are adorable—and have just enough lace to make me hard.
Then again, I’m always hard when it comes to Kylie.
Still, I was fascinated as she combed and put oily stuff on the strands—oil that I’ve only now realized is the faint floral scent I’ve always associated with her.
It’s stronger now.
Distracting.
Almost as much as when I’d watched her massage it into the ends before braiding her hair with instinctive, unhurried motions.
Also almost as much as the smile that fills her face now when she says, “You like the picture Adrian drew for you?”
“You know I do,” I say, tugging at her braid again. “Now spill, Teach.”
“It’s obliquely related,” she grumbles, sitting up and knocking my arm from her shoulders down to her waist. I start stroking light patterns on her hip, and it’s not lost on me either that she’s not scared of me touching her like this.
And in other ways.
I smother my grin and focus. “How?”
“Holly”—her boss—“stopped me after school today, asking that I talk to Adrian’s parents.”
My amusement fades. I don’t like that woman and I don’t like the shit she tried to pull with Adrian. Partly because Blake dealt with that crap all the time, but mostly because Adrian is a good kid and deserves to be in school if he’s able. “About what?”
She explains then sighs and leans down to trace her fingers along my jaw. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what my face looks like too.”
“She’s a problem.”
“I know she is.” Kylie scowls. “The worst part is I thought she was my friend, and I usually pick better friends. I just can’t believe she wouldn’t try to do better by him, by all the kids.”
“Sometimes money gets in the way.”
“Yeah.”
“So you’re going to do it?”
Her eyes go wide. “How do you know?”
“It’s not just Adrian affected by the cuts in library and counseling hours. It impacts all the students.”
“I wish I could kiss you right now.”
I frown. “Why can’t you?”
“Because kissing could lead to other things”—her eyes flick to my shoulder—“and you need to rest that arm.” Her hand settles on my chest. “And your head.”
“And my stitches?”
A roll of her eyes. “You know what I mean. You were really hurt, Colt. You scared me.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I…you’re the only person, the only man…” Pink on her cheeks, her words fading into silence.
I draw her back down against me. “You’re the only person, only woman…”
“The only woman…what?”
“The same thing as you were going to say, starfire.”
That pink deepens and my dick twitches.
“Or maybe not,” I murmur, stroking my hand along her spine, hitching her leg over my hips. The lush weight of her thigh brushes my erection and it takes everything in me to not groan, to not thrust up into her. “What were you going to say?”
She moans softly and burrows closer. “I think you know.”
“Baby.”
Lips on my throat, her legs shifting over me, her breasts pressed to my side.
Right.
This is good…and bad.
Because I only have one fucking hand right now.
Those lips trail up, slowly make their way to my jaw, to my ear. “You’re the only…” She flicks her tongue out and I groan, clutching her leg closer to me, grinding myself against her. Fuck that feels good…
And it’s not nearly enough.
“The only,” she says again, teeth nipping at my skin.
“The only what?” I rasp as my dick gets even harder.
“The only man I want to kiss.” Lips on my neck again. “To touch.” Her hand settles on my chest and starts moving south “To lick.” Another flick of that tongue as those fingers drift lower and lower and lower, until they halt, one tapping an inch above the waistband of my sweats. “And maybe…”
I tense, blood having followed her hand on its journey, all but leaving my brain barely functioning and my cock…my cock harder than I’ve ever been.
Lips at my ear. “…to suck.”
Fuck.
“Kylie.”