Chapter 41 Stella
Stella
Colt leans over the console of his truck after he pulls into a parking spot in front of his building. He grips the back of my head and kisses me senseless. His lips devour me, his tongue molding with mine. Heat and moisture flood my panties at the unspoken promise of what he’s going to do to me.
Colt reaches over and unbuckles my seat belt.“Get over here,” he commands.
I climb over the center console and straddle his lap.
It’s like he’s incapable of keeping his hands off me for an extended period of time.
He was handsy and affectionate before the accident, but since the return of his memories, he can’t seem to get enough of me.
As if he doesn’t believe I’m really here with him.
He runs his hands up my thighs and grips my hips.
I can feel him, hard as steel beneath me.
I roll my hips, causing him to groan as he leans in to kiss me. His lips are soft, Colt’s tongue brushing against mine, torturously slow.
I feel my heartbeat start racing in anticipation as I run my hands through his soft, dark hair. His big hands run up and down my body, feeling every inch of me.
I don’t know how long we sit there, making out like high schoolers, but when we finally come up for air, the windows are fogged over.
“Do you want to go inside?” I ask, giggling at our surroundings.
“Nope, too far away,” he says while planting quick, open-mouthed kisses down the column of my neck. “I want you to ride me in the backseat.”
My stomach flips at the frankness of his words. I smile into his hair as he kneads my ass. “You are insane. Anyone could walk by and see us.” The thought of getting caught is a surprise turn-on. Maybe the exhibitionism jokes weren’t that far off the mark after all.
“Guess we better hurry, then,” he replies, giving me one more kiss before lifting me off his lap. I climb into the backseat and strip off my pants. The leather is cool on my legs, but it’s refreshing in the heat of the car.
Colt climbs back beside me. He smiles when he sees that I’ve already shed my leggings. Leaning over me, he runs a hand up my leg, then slips a finger into my wet pussy, collecting some of the moisture and rubbing my clit. I gasp at the sensation, arching in search of more friction.
“Is this what you wanted, Stell? Hmm? When you decided to tease me in front of our friends?” His molten eyes meet mine, sending another rush of moisture south.
“It’s not my fault you get turned on so easily,” I goad. I lean forward and kiss him again, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth. Colt groans into my mouth. He sits back and loosens his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers.
Reaching over, I give him a strong pump, causing a bead of liquid to appear.
He pulls me into his lap again and lines himself up with my entrance, but when he goes to lower me down, I resist, smiling.
“I can’t wait to feel you inside me, Colt,” I purr into his ear. “I can’t wait to come while you’re deep-”
Before I can finish my taunts, he thrusts up and pushes himself inside me. I gasp with pleasure at the sudden fullness. I let my weight fall, seating myself fully on him. He throws his head back with a low groan.
“God, Stella, I’ll never get tired of feeling you.” He runs his hands up my sides and under my shirt, squeezing my breasts.
I rock my hips, starting slow. Each time I come forward, my clit rubs against his pelvis, causing glorious waves of pleasure to shoot up my spine.
Colt grips my hips and lifts me up and down, guiding me to a slight bounce. With every motion, he thrusts up to meet me, hitting so deep I know I’ll feel it for days.
He reaches a hand up and cups the side of my face, bringing my lips to meet his in a consuming kiss. With his tongue in my mouth and his dick buried deep inside me, I’m overwhelmed by the sensation of him.
I begin to rock faster, and Colt reaches between our bodies, rubbing my clit with his other hand.
“Don’t stop. Oh, fuck, Colt.” I’m breathless and past the point of coherent thought. Every nerve in my body is on fire, on the verge of combusting.
“Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you come all over my dick. You’re doing so good.” He keeps stringing compliments together between kisses. His thrusts get faster and faster. “God, you feel amazing, Stella. I’m close, baby.”
Hearing his throaty voice, hearing what I can do to this man, along with the increased pressure of his thumb, causes me to come in strong, pulsing waves. The bliss goes on and on, an inconceivable amount of time passing before I collapse into his chest, quaking.
Colt continues to thrust upward until he comes, groaning into my hair as he holds me to him. We sit, sweaty and breathing heavy, his dick still buried in me, for a long time.
“Fuck, Stella,” Colt chuckles, leaning his head back into the headrest.
I laugh into his shirt, “Right back at you, Crosby.”
My mind takes me back to the very first time I went to one of Colt’s games as Nora and I get dressed for the last regulation season game.
My stomach is in knots with the thought of Colt getting back out there despite the fact that the doctors have cleared him.
Other than worrying about his physical safety, which I do, my biggest fear is that playing the same team is going to trigger another panic attack.
But Colt’s reassured me that he’s ready for this game; that he’s prepared to get back out there no matter what.
“How do I look?” Nora asks, popping into my room as I finish applying my mascara.
She’s wearing dark tights with a pair of chunky white boots and Drew’s jersey, which is big enough to be a dress on her. Her makeup is done up lightly in varying shades of pink, the way she always does, and her hair is effortlessly curled.
“You look hot as hell, but you’re going to freeze,” I reply with a grin.
“Nuh uh.” She pulls out the waistband of her tights to show me that they’re lined in a soft nude fleece, making it appear like regular tights.
“Where did you get those? I need some!” We chat back and forth about our outfits for a couple more minutes as I finish up my makeup.
I’ve decided to wear a pair of baggy, light-washed jeans with Colt’s white jersey, since the game tonight is a home game and the team will be wearing the blue ones.
My phone lights up with a text from Jill, saying they’re waiting outside. We decided to ride to the game with Beau’s parents so that we could leave with the guys after.
In our seats in the family and friends section of the arena, Nora squeezes my hand, reading the anxiety on my face. I get deja vú as we sit in anticipation for the teams to hit the ice. Every seat is filled tonight, both students and fans showing support for Colt’s return to the game.
For weeks, local and NCAA news outlets have been commenting on his injury and trying to predict when he’d be game-ready.
Colt has declined every request to give a statement about his recovery, so when Booker announced last week in his interview that Colt would play tonight—against the player that took him out of the game for months—the media was on the story like a pack of lions on a gazelle.
The anxiety starts to eat away at me, and I’m contemplating abandoning my seat to go find Colt, to make sure he’s okay and that the pressure hasn’t gotten to him, when the team’s entrance music starts to play.