Chapter 15 #2
“Shall we?” I ask him, standing and taking his hand, pulling him to the dance floor.
As we join the other pairs, I reach up to wrap one arm around his shoulder. He snakes an arm low around my waist, and with his free hand, he holds mine, leading me in a slow dance.
Once I settle into the groove of following him, I lean into him, resting my head against the solid warmth of his chest. I lose myself in the smell of vetiver and sandalwood that rolls off of him.
We sway silently together for what feels like an hour, until my eyes lock onto the woman he had his eyes on earlier. She moves so gracefully, like she’s gliding over the floor, flowing through the air. Every movement she makes is perfect.
I tense with the sudden feeling of inadequacy washing over me, and Colt’s finger finds my chin, lifting my face so I’m forced to look him in the eye.
“Stop doing that,” he orders.
“What?”
“Doubting yourself.” He takes my hand in his again and continues leading me across the floor.
“That’s the third time this evening. You do it all of the time; you shrink yourself down, like you don’t believe that who you are is enough.
That if you don’t live up to this image you have in your head, you’re somehow less valuable. ”
“I just don’t want to mess up,” I confess.
“So what if you do?” He lifts my arm up and I spin under our joined hands before landing back in his arms, his hand resting lower than it started.
“Some of the best things on the planet came from someone making a mistake. Let yourself exist as you are and let that be enough. Don’t make yourself small. ”
“You’re so sure of everything.”
“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “Not everything.”
I tuck myself back into his chest, dissolving into him, pretending that, at least for tonight, this can be real. For tonight, I can admit to myself that I’m starting to have feelings for him.
I don’t even know how long our dance goes on. By the end of it, my hips are on fire and I’m completely worn out, but I’m so happy.
As the party guests file out, I sit on a chair while I wait for Colt to tie up whatever loose ends he may have here.
I think about just calling for a ride and going home, but I’m not ready for the night to come to an end just yet.
I’m not ready to leave this little fantasy bubble I’ve created around myself.
“It’s greasy burger o’clock, wouldn’t you say?” Colt asks as he walks toward me, checking his watch.
A smile plays at the corners of my lips. “Definitely.”
He leads me toward the exit, stopping before we reach the door to take off the jacket of his tuxedo. He drapes it over my shoulders, telling me, “You’ll freeze to death.”
I thank him as I wrap tightly it around myself, breathing in the scent of his cologne.
Waiting for us at the exit is a shiny black Escalade. Colt opens the back door and helps me climb in, then he follows behind, taking the seat next to mine before instructing the driver to take us to a drive thru.
·
“You were right,” I tell Colt as I shove a french fry into my mouth. “Greasy burgers are the perfect food after a night like that.”
He raises his hands as if to say I told you so, following with, “I have been doing this for a while, you know.”
“This was…the perfect night, Colt,” I tell him. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Thank you for saving me from all of those stuffy, boring people,” he laughs.
“I mean it,” I say, lowering my voice as I slide a hand onto his thigh. “You made me happy tonight.”
I watch his chest rise and fall, his eyes locked on my hand as I move it further up his thigh. As soon as I can feel his cock beneath my fingers, his hand covers mine.
“Rowan…” My name slips from him in a breathy warning and my heart picks up its pace.
“Yes, sir?” I purr, batting my lashes at him as I slowly move my hand back and forth against his dick, forcing a groan from him.
I kind of always expected it to take a man a long time to get hard – like I would have to wait agonizing minutes for him to be ready, like it was this long, drawn-out process.
But I’ve only been touching him for a minute and he’s like a steel beam beneath my hand.
A feeling somewhere between excitement and intimidation washes over me and I blush.
In a breath, his hand cups my face and his mouth crashes into mine, taking me by surprise. I pull him as close to me as I can, until our bodies press together.
His lips are warm and soft on mine, so much softer than I expected them to be, almost a direct contrast to the force he’s putting behind his kiss.
I let out a soft moan into his mouth as the pressure inside me builds, begging to be touched, and his free hand finds itself in the slit of my dress, sliding up my thigh to grip onto my ass.
My heart is like a jackhammer.
“Colt,” I pant, “I’m a—”
I shouldn’t have said a word. I shouldn’t have pulled away.
He stops himself and looks at me with horror on his face. “Oh, Jesus,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Rowan.”
“Don’t stop,” I breathe, and pull him back down toward me.
“I’m your boss,” he argues, “I’m almost twice your age.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care.”
Shoving himself off of me, he tells me, “We can’t.”
“But you—”
“I shouldn’t have done that, Rowan. I am so sorry.”
“Why?” I probe, breathing hard. “Because it’s bad?”
“Yes.”
“Then be bad, Colt.” I pull myself up and over him until I’m straddling his lap. Against his will, his hands find their way to my hips, and I lean in to whisper, “I won’t tell.”
“Rowan, I can’t.”
“You can’t what?” I demand, bracing my hands on the seat behind him.
“I can’t feel the way that I do about you.”
“Even if I want you to?”
He shakes his head, eyes softening when he looks at me. “Especially then.”
“Then what was tonight?”
“Selfish.”
My arms go slack as shame, defeat and humiliation wash over me.
I pull myself from his lap and drop into the seat next to him, feeling like the cheap whore my father told me I looked like.
I don’t even recognize myself right now.
Am I that desperate for validation, that I missed him taking advantage of me and thought he actually wanted me?
“Did you use me?”
“No. No, that wasn’t why I—” he hesitates. “Rowan, you’re hurt and confused.”
Oh my god, is that pity on his face?
The shame and embarrassment coursing through me could be compared to a category five hurricane, knocking me off of my own axis and sending me into oblivion.
“Let me out of the car.”
He turns to me with those soft eyes, looking like a wounded puppy, and it could almost crack me in two if his rejection hadn’t done that already.
“It’s one in the morning. It’s freezing.”
“Let me out.”
Heaving a sigh, he instructs the driver to pull off on a shoulder. When we’ve stopped, I step out of the car and grab my things.
Before pushing the door closed, I look Colt in the eye and tell him, “All night, all I thought about was how happy I was. And that you made me feel really safe. I think about that one a lot of the time, not just tonight. Don’t waste that on the next one, Mr. Fowler.”
“Rowan—”
I slam the car door shut and take a few steps away until I’m off of the road, then I pull out my phone and order a ride to take me home.
I’m such an idiot.