Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Ky
I’m quiet on the drive back to Colt’s house, and it’s not because my belly is full of treats.
Nor because the plush cow with the floppy hair he bought for me on the sly is sitting on my knees, its adorable face looking up at me.
It’s not because it’s late and the snow is coming down heavier and heavier, coating the world in white and making me feel quietly sequestered, as though it’s only Colt and me in this world.
“You okay?” he asks softly, like he’s been resisting shattering the quiet.
I lift the cow, press a kiss to its head. “I’m great.”
His smile is a flash of white in the darkness and then he reaches forward, turns up the volume on the radio. “I love this song.”
My heart seizes when I hear the familiar strums of the guitar, John Fogerty’s lyrics of rain clearing and beauty in the aftermath of the storm filling the air. “What do you love about it?”
His fingers find mine, squeeze. “Probably the same thing you do,” he murmurs. “The clouds parting. The sun shining…”
“Rainbows coming out?”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “You.”
I tilt my head in question.
“You’re the rainbow, bright and beautiful and formed only after the storm clears.”
I suck in a breath.
“Too sappy?”
“N-no,” I say, blinking rapidly against the tears turning my vision watery. “It’s perfect.”
We both fall quiet again as he turns into his house, the garage door rumbling closed behind his car, ensconcing us in gentle darkness.
He turns to face me, hand cupping my jaw, lips brushing over my forehead. “Let me get the door for you.”
“I can—”
Lips gliding over mine. “Let me?”
I can’t resist him normally, but like this? Gentle and soft, his eyes burning into mine, his fingertips trailing over my cheeks, my nose, my throat.
“Yeah?”
I nod.
“Thanks, Teach.”
Before I can ask why he’s thanking me, he’s out of the driver’s seat, coming around to my side. Then his big body is bending over mine, his scent is in my nose, his hand is wrapped around mine. A tug and I’m out of the car, being led into the house…
And straight up to his bedroom.
I set the cow on the dresser, pat his fluffy head, but when I start to shrug out of my coat, his hands land on my shoulders. “Let me?” he asks again.
Lungs hitching, I nod. Slowly, he undoes the buttons, pushes the fabric down my arms, pulling it free and folding it over the arm of the chair in the corner.
But when he reaches for his own jacket, I step close. “Let me?”
Warmth in his eyes, a hand skating up my side, dipping into my hair, his mouth brushing over mine.
Then he drops his arms, lets me push off his coat, set it over mine.
There’s something about that view, our jackets intermingled, gently folded together, his surrounding mine but not obscuring it that feels right.
That feels like us.
Or maybe it’s that the song and his words and his care have made me as sappy as he’d worried he was on the drive home.
Either way, I don’t care.
Because he’s come close, wrapping his arms around my waist, drawing me back against his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head as we sway to a silent song that’s ours alone.
He turns me in his hold, those deep brown eyes searing straight into my soul. “Let me?”
When I nod, he nudges me back and I realize he’s swayed me over to the bed.
A long, drugging kiss as I sink down onto the edge of the mattress, his hands moving over my body, evaporating my nerves with the slow, easy touches. He undoes my boots, tosses them to the side and peels off my socks before repeating the process with his own shoes.
Then he’s straightening and reaching for the hem of my shirt, but before he draws it up and over my head, he pauses, his “Let me” there for all that its silent.
I nod and as soon as the material is tossed to the side, landing soundlessly on the rug, I’m drawing his shirt up, dropping it to the floor to tangle with mine.
He moves into me, pressing me back onto the mattress, my head on the pillows, his body coming over the top of mine.
Another kiss that turns me to mush, his hands trailing over my sensitized skin, his actions unhurried despite the fire that’s beginning to build inside me.
He doesn’t ask me if I’m okay—he knows I am.
He’s built the trust with my brain, my body, my heart.
And every touch, every caress, every stroke is another thread sewn between us.
Kisses along my jaw, down my throat, the center of my chest.
A hand slipping behind my back.
A flick and my bra is loose, the straps pushed down my arms.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs against my flesh, the heat of the words more fuel for the fire in my womb. He kisses the underside of one breast, the stubble on his jaw a rasp that has me shuddering, hands on his shoulders to keep him close.
But he wasn’t going to leave anyway.
Lips and tongue work at my nipples, roughened palms mold my flesh, lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through me.
But the ache between my legs only continues to grow.
His body moving down mine, drawing my pants and underwear off, spreading my legs.
A tongue dipping into soaked flesh, fingers gently slipping inside.
It’s slow and lazy, loving me until I come apart, pleasure rolling through me in waves.
He makes his way back up my body, nuzzles my throat, his hands still gentle, still unhurried, but the evidence of his desire strains at his jeans, presses into my hip.
He doesn’t ask “Let me?” again.
He wouldn’t.
So I’m the one to say, “Yes.”
Because it’s time.
Because I can’t think of a better moment than right now, tonight when I’ve been loved and coaxed and held and pleasured.
He doesn’t ask if I’m sure, doesn’t make this about the past.
He just rolls away from me and takes off his pants, his underwear, reaches into the nightstand for a condom and rolls it down the hard length of his erection.
Then he’s coming over the top of me again, my legs parting to allow him between, my mouth taken in the sweetest surrender of a kiss.
Our bodies are in sync, his pace is still slow and steady, still supremely patient as the embers of my orgasm are fanned into another small fire, the flames fed with his lips and his hands until I’m trembling with an inferno of need to have him inside me.
It’s only then that he pauses, poised at my entrance.
“Yes,” I say to the unasked question.
Inch by inch, he pushes in, stretching me, filling me, until he’s fully seated and his body is one with mine and—
“Starfire.” He brushes away a tear I hadn’t known escaped.
“I love you,” I whisper, more tears falling, tears that he kisses away, one after the other.
“The first time I saw you smile, I knew.”
“Knew what?” I ask as he settles his forehead on mine.
“Knew that you were my forever.”
More tears fall and he kisses them away again, but he does it with easy flexes of his hips, slow withdrawals and steady thrusts.
Until my tears are gone.
Until pleasure is burning through me.
Until I shatter, his name in the air…and he shatters right back.
And together…
We gather up the pieces and put them together to form something so damned beautiful another tear slips down my cheek.
Lucky for me, he kisses that one away too.
Then murmurs, “Your cow is staring at me accusingly.”
I glance to the dresser and grin lazily. “Hamish doesn’t approve of bedtime shenanigans.”
“Hamish?”
I shrug. “What else could I possibly name a proper Scottish coo?”
He’s quiet for a beat.
Then I end this beautiful night of family and friendship and romance and dancing and love with…
Laughter.