Chapter Four #3
His words felt like a slap across her face: hot, stinging her flesh hard enough to make her eyes water.
She stepped closer to him, needing him to see the wound he’d inflicted up close and personal.
“I might be angry that you lied to me. But I would never do something that would bring you harm or worse, risk your life. And telling Hastings about you would do exactly that.” She paused to stare at him again, searching for any shred of the man she thought she was getting to know over the last few weeks.
“The fact that you don’t instinctively know that is just proof whatever this thing is between us needs to die. ”
He reached for her and she stepped just out of his grasp so that his hand fell back to his side.
He shifted his weight from one leg to the other like he was off-balance.
Colton was always in control. Whether it was his body, his thoughts, his words, or even the effortless way he made her body ache for something it had yet to actually experience.
But her rejection seemed to be chipping away at his gruff exterior and she didn’t know whether to exploit it or comfort him as a result.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t’ve questioned it. I’m just afraid, Seneca. Every time I mention Hastings, I see you tense up. I know he’s done something to you and it’s killing me that I can’t protect you because you won’t tell me what’s going on.”
The crease in his brow and the concern pooling in his blue eyes shook something loose in her. The tight hold she had on her secrets slacked just enough to allow the urge to confide in someone, anyone, to bubble to the surface.
“If I could pretend Hastings didn’t exist for the rest of my life, it still wouldn’t be enough.” Her voice was a soft whisper. If she spoke louder, the fragile casing holding her together would shatter in this man’s presence. “I don’t have a choice, though. He’s blackmailing me.”
Colton closed the distance between them and placed gentle hands on her forearms, urging her to continue.
“When I was an inmate, Hastings made all the rules. He sold protection for favors. If you didn’t agree to pay him in some way”—she swallowed thinking of the things he forced the women on the cellblock to do—“he’d have you targeted by his goon squad, which consisted of other prison guards and inmates alike. ”
She pulled in a ragged breath as her mind swam through the sludge of those dark memories.
Her life was so different now, it almost seemed like it happened to someone else.
“My first week inside he called me into his office and told me he wanted me to use my hacking skills to get him what he called ‘work bonuses.’ I refused. He didn’t take too kindly to that.
Told me I’d learn one way or another it was better to be his friend than his enemy.
A couple of weeks later while I was on laundry detail, the guards placed at either end of the room disappeared and four women, who I’d later come to learn were part of Hastings’s enforcement crew, beat me to within an inch of my life.
When I woke up a couple days later in the infirmary, Hastings was at my bedside.
He leaned down to whisper, ‘Do you see what happens when you don’t play by my rules?
You’ve got to the end of your recovery to reconsider, or next time it will be worse. ’”
She felt herself sinking back into that living nightmare, but Colton’s fingers began to stroke the skin on her arms in a slow, comforting fashion that kept her grounded. “I had no choice but to give him what he wanted to survive in that place.”
She finally found the strength to look up at him.
The concern she’d glimpsed before was still there, but softer, drawing her in, making her want to let him bear the weight of it all.
“Now he wants me to do the same thing again. Except it’s not my life he’s threatening.
It’s Aja’s and her ranch. He says if I don’t resume those payments, he’s gonna make certain Aja can never get the requisite permits to open this place. ”
Her head was spinning with thoughts of the past and her present colliding in loud chaos between her ears. And as comforting as it was to be that close to him, it made it harder for her to think clearly.
“I called him over to give him the contact info of another hacker I know who can get him what he wants. But he refused—he says it has to be me.”
She closed her eyes, leaning against the counter, trying to think her way out of the hell she’d found herself in. She heard his heavy footfalls and was too weary to try to avoid his advance. And if she was honest with herself, she didn’t really want to evade it either.
Heavy hands fell tenderly on her shoulders and squeezed and rubbed the knots bunching beneath her skin. Relief and lust spread through her as she allowed his touch to ease the tension Hastings’s visit caused.
“Darlin’.” The rough rumble of his voice washed over her, soothing her, causing her to let her head fall back against his broad chest, letting him bear the weight of her troubles for just a few moments. “You can’t handle this by yourself. Let me take care of this fool.”
She was beginning to think he was right.
But there was still something that made his words fall short.
She turned around in his arms, allowing him to drop his hands and then cage her between those bulky, carved arms and the counter.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Not from fear of his proximity, but with the immeasurable anticipation of where being this close to him could lead.
“Why do you care so much? Why does it matter so much to you? Or is the reason you’re so insistent on handling it because you don’t trust an ex-con to do what’s right?”
The hard glare of his narrowed eyes made her pulse jump. He moved one of his hands from the counter and brought it slowly to her face, cupping her cheek. “You don’t trust me. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel like a gut-punch, but I know I can’t blame anyone for that but me.”
He snaked his other hand around her waist, pulling her until her body was flush against his, and she could feel both his heat and his excitement.
“The only thing I ever lied to you about was my job. Everything else was real.” He ran a slow thumb across her bottom lip, almost daring her to let her tongue slip out and taste it.
“When you got hurt and ended up in a hospital bed because we prematurely closed the case”—he took a harsh breath and she could see his struggle to stay centered and focused—“it did something to me. Something I can’t explain and something I don’t ever want to experience again. ”
“So, that’s what this is about? Some misplaced guilt you’ve been carrying around for the last few weeks?”
He pressed his hips into hers and she could feel the stiff bulge behind the zipper of his jeans, the tempting pressure drawing a ragged breath from her parted lips.
“Does that feel like guilt to you?” No. It absolutely did not.
It felt like heat and a promise of pleasure she’d ached with since the day they’d met.
“I want you, Seneca. And more than that, I care about you.” He let his fingers travel to the curve of her neck, his thumb resting firmly against her racing pulse, making her body burn with want.
His voice dropped even lower, the rough sound of it turning her on, lighting fire to her already boiling blood.
He leaned in closer, teasing her with the nearness of his tempting mouth.
“If something happened to you again and I didn’t do everything within my power to stop it, I’d lose my fucking mind.
Please.” It was phrased as a request, but his deep baritone wrapping around that single word made it an unmistakable command.
“Promise me you’ll stay away from him. I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you. ”
Unable to resist the call of his mouth, she leaned in, chasing it, desperate for even the lightest press of it against her flesh. He moved slightly out of her reach and gave his head a slow shake. “I can’t hear you, darlin’. I need your words. Promise me.”
God he was a son of a bitch. He wanted this just as much as she did. She could tell by the way his eyes had changed from their usual cerulean to the deep cobalt blue, staring at her right now. They were fixed and bright, and full of promises she wanted him to fulfill in the worst way.
Tired of fighting for control, tired of denying herself what she’d needed for so long, she dragged in a coarse breath and closed her eyes before she whispered, “I promise.”
Any other day the shaky sound of her own voice would’ve sickened her.
Where was all the strength she’d used to survive in prison?
Where was the resolve that made her get up every day and work to rebuild her life?
Because when his mouth touched hers, the only thing that registered inside was hunger and ravenous need.
She’d hoped the press of his lips against hers would satisfy this inconvenient appetite. But when a low growl escaped him as he devoured her mouth, her desire grew and every rational reason for why this was a truly bad idea spilled out of her head and onto the floor.
“God, I want you.” If she’d had any pride, when she recognized those words came from her mouth, she’d at least have felt some kind of shame.
But when he pulled her tighter against him and growled again, the only thing she could recognize was there was no way she would willingly put a stop to where she hoped all this kissing would lead.
“Don’t worry,” he gasped, dragging air into his lungs.
“Feeling’s mutual.” He buried his face into the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing the skin there, making her melt in his arms. His other hand traveled from her waist until it crept just beneath the bulge of her breast, teasing her with the temptation of what his strong fingers would feel like against her sensitive flesh if she didn’t have on so many damn clothes.
He broke the spell, pulling away from her.
She could see the truth in his struggle to control himself with the tight set of his squared jaw and the fast and deep breaths he sucked in.
“More than anything, I want you naked and underneath me right now. But I know I haven’t earned that right, yet. I don’t deserve it.”
He stepped completely out of their embrace with his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.
“I want you, Sen.” His voice was rough like gravel and thick with arousal.
“But not if it’s something you’re only doing in the heat of the moment.
When we finally come together, I want it to be deliberate with no doubts attached to it. ”
She shook her head to try to bring her mind back into focus.
She looked to see if there were any signs that he was being disingenuous.
Was he just playing a role to get her to lay her sympathies bare for him?
But the way need bled through every line in his face, through his strong arms trembling as they held her, there was no pretense. His need was as great as hers.
“Today isn’t about what you deserve. It’s about what I need, what I want. I don’t have to trust you to fuck you. As long as we’re both clear on that, I don’t see the harm in giving in to what we both clearly want.”
She held his gaze, watching the struggle play out across his face as he fought for control. Seneca was playing with fire, and she wholeheartedly admitted it. But everything in her wanted to watch that rigid control of his snap.
She was looking for trouble. That was the first sign that she was off her game.
Seneca always played it safe. The one time she hadn’t, she’d ended up in prison.
But the fire in Colton, it called to her, teased her out of her quiet comfort and made her want to do reckless things like poke the sexy bear of a man standing in front her.
She knew the game she was playing was dangerous, but at this moment, she didn’t particularly care to stop.
Not when this powerful man was so close to letting go.
She pulled the hem of her T-shirt out of her jeans and made quick work of removing the garment and tossing it on the floor next to them. “You down, cowboy?”
The muscle in his jaw ticked and he squeezed his fists even tighter.
Nostrils flaring, chest heaving, he looked feral and powerful, and sexy as fuck.
And if he didn’t move soon and take off all that damn fabric so she could run her fingers over every inch of him, she was afraid she’d combust right there leaning against her kitchen counter.
“I asked you a question.” The forcefulness in her voice surprised even her. But as far as she was concerned, this was fair play after the way he’d extracted that promise from her. “Are you down, cowboy?”
With slow and deliberate movements, he undid the top button of his plaid shirt and worked his way down until it was hanging from his bulky frame. He peeled it off, letting it silently hit the floor before looking up at her. “Hell yeah.”