Chapter 8
COLT
Fuck, this is bad. I should have more control than this.
Kissing her when I’ve been saying she doesn’t belong here, and now she’s going to question me to death about it, I can already feel it coming.
She did nothing but push my buttons for a week, and today was the last straw.
I lost all restraint listening to her back talk and sarcastic innuendos.
And when she called me by my surname? I think that’s when she broke me.
I adjust myself behind the wheel, wiping at my lips and starting the engine. “We'd better go before we get stuck out here.”
She scoots into her seat and grabs for the seatbelt. I watch as it slides between her breasts. “You don’t have muddin’ tires on this truck?”
“Of course I do.” I throw it in drive and slowly ease out of the muddy hole we’ve been sitting in.
“Oh, okay. I get it. You just can’t sit in silence.”
“Nothing is ever silent when you’re around.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Don’t.” We bump along the trails while the lightning lights up the sky. I do my best to keep her out of my peripheral vision, her breasts bouncing with each ditch we hit, and she does nothing to stop it.
Her lips are red, and her hair’s a mess, and my pulse is still kicking in my throat.
Fuck.
We make it back to the ranch, and my dad is just pulling out, giving a quick wave. “Mom must have called. She hates storms.”
“I get it,” she says, her voice slipping back into an unusual tone.
“Where’s your car? I’ll drop you next to it so you don’t get any more wet than you already are.”
Her lips roll in, and I can only imagine the bullshit that’s about to fly.
“Takes more than an angry kiss for that.”
I huff and shake my head. “Seriously, where’s your car?”
“I don’t have one.”
I furrow my brows. “How have you been getting here? Where are you staying?”
“At the Bramble and Bloom on Main Street.”
I shake my head. “Don’t tell me you walk.”
“I don’t. Levi picks me up. And sometimes your mom.”
Oh, hell no. I grunt and slam the car into reverse, taking off out of the ranch and heading toward the B it slips out because she’s being so ridiculous.
“You’ve got a great laugh, Colt.”
Clearing my throat, my hands tighten on the wheel again, and I pray she can’t see my knuckles turning white.
“You always run headfirst into storms?” I ask.
“It’s the only way to live.”
I nod once. That tracks.
We pull into the parking lot, and the rain is still coming down hard. I put the truck in park but let it idle. Neither of us moves, and I’m not sure what the next step is here.
Luckily for me, she does.
Of course she does. Bold and beautiful, a little reckless and never afraid. That’s Lily Mercer.
“So,” she says softly. “This is where I pretend I’m not thinking about that kiss.”
I turn toward her. “Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t pretend?”
“Don’t leave.”
Her eyes darken. “Colt—”
“Let me walk you in.”
I turn off the truck and tell her to wait while I jump out and run through the rain to her door.
I help her out quickly, and we run for the front door, her laughing and me grunting along the way.
I’m not thinking about who’s going to see me bring her inside.
I know they all know she’s working for us.
We slow down through the lobby, and I follow her as she leads me down the long hallway to her room. She opens the door, and I step through as she shuts it behind us.
I turn to face her. The room is dim, with only one light on in the corner. “You don’t lock it?”
She flips the lock. “I’m locking it now.”
I stand there, warring with myself. I should walk out, I should leave. I already messed up by kissing her. Jesus, I asked her not to leave, and now, as if I haven’t been thinking of her since I first laid eyes on her, I’m in her room, with the door locked.
“Fuck it.” I take two steps, pinning her against the door, and she smiles against my mouth.
“This doesn’t feel like you hate me,” she whispers.
“Good,” I growl. I take her lips again, and this time, it’s not so hurried. I feel manic, I feel like I can’t get close enough, but I also don’t want it to end.
I run my hands down the front of her shirt. “You’re soaking wet.”
“Not yet.”
I shake my head at her backtalk, then hold my breath as she pushes me away from her and into the room, then spins from me, pulling her wet t-shirt over her head. It hits the ground with a slop. “You'd better catch up, cowboy.”
I struggle to pull my shirt off, and before I can get to my jeans, she’s on me again.
Her tongue teases my lips, and her citrus scent surrounds me.
Her hands work the buttons on my jeans, and when she yanks them down my thighs and drops in front of me, I say, “You really are all sunshine, aren’t you? ”
“And you’re the fucking storm. Now take these pants off, Mr. Callahan. You’ve teased me enough.”
My eyes widen at her outburst. “I love it when you call me that.”
“Oh yeah? I'll keep it in mind.” She smiles as she watches me kick my shoes and pull the jeans off as fast as I can, leaving me standing in my boxers.
She crawls closer, her fingers dipping into my waistband, and my stomach contracts.
She looks up, running her hand over the scrapes from my last ride.
“How’s it feel?”
“Just a little scrape.”
“Mhm. I knew you’d say that.” She reaches for me, but I pull her to her feet and kiss her slowly.
“We don’t have to do this,” I say against her lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to?”
“Fuck no, I’m not saying that.” We laugh. “But, it seems like, well…”
“Spit it out, cowboy.”
I shake my head, trying to gather my thoughts. “We haven’t had a conversation where we aren’t sniping at each other since you got here. And now I’m almost naked in your room. I guess I just don’t want you to think I’m that guy, you know?”
She pushes me to the bed, and I fall on it.
“Oh, I definitely think you’re that guy.
But, Colt, I wouldn't have locked you in if I didn’t want you here.
” She winks and steps back from me, tugging her wet jeans completely off.
She stands in front of me unashamed in a black lace bra and panty set.
I know she’s letting my eyes linger on her; she wants me to see her.
After she lets me have my fill, she crawls over me, straddling my waist. My arms instinctively wrap around her.
“So you’re seducing me?”
“I’m trying, but for once, you won’t shut up.” She bites at my bottom lip, and I give her a spank. She yelps, and then we both freeze, eyes wide as we stare at each other.
“I’m sorry, I–”
“Do it again.”
“What?”
“Do it again, Colt. Spank me.”
I bite at my bottom lip, trying to hold the smirk at bay, but it’s of no use. “I shouldn’t be surprised by you, sunshine. You’re the realest fucking woman I’ve ever come across.” I give her a hard spank. “And I think that’s dangerous for both of us.”
We kiss, and she grinds herself against my cock. My hands roam over her ass, kneading and massaging, and all the while she never stops the slow rhythm she’s building on me. She kneels above me, perfect tits on display, and I run my finger along the lace outline.
“How’s the knee?”
“Amazing.”
She laughs. “I’m serious, I'm not hurting you, right?”
“The last thing you’re doing is hurting me.” I run my hands up and down her thighs, her skin soft under my rough hands. I nod to her. “Show me. I know you've been dying to since you first dropped in front of me after my ride.”
She laughs and shakes her tits above me.
I reach for her, and she slaps my hand away.
She continues to touch herself, pinching her nipples through the lacy fabric, getting low in my face, dragging her tits across my chest. Then she sits up and reaches behind her, undoing the clip and letting her full breasts out as she tosses her bra to the floor.
“Well, fuck me, sunshine. You are as perfect as I imagined.” She leans in close, just enough for me to stick my tongue out and play with her nipple before she climbs off me, sliding down my legs and draping herself across my waist.
She taps my thigh, and I lift up so she can pull my boxers off.
And in one swift motion as she slides them down my legs, she's already taking me in her mouth. My hips jerk up with a groan, and I hit the back of her throat. The sound tears out of me when she doesn’t even flinch—she just keeps working me, faster, then slower, sucking with every downward stroke.
“Lily, it’s been too long, and you feel too good.”
She looks up at me from under her lashes. Teasing my tip, she says, “Don’t got eight seconds in ya, Colt?”
I sit up quickly, reach under her arms, and flip her to her back. “No one said that.” I strip her of her panties and feast on her, not giving her a second to adjust. She tastes like everything I’ve been missing as she's writhing below me. For once, she’s speechless.
I lean up on my good knee and hook my hands under hers, pulling her and draping her over my hips. I tease her clit with the tip of my cock, then freeze. “I don’t have a condom.”
Her lips roll in, like she’s suddenly afraid to speak to me. I pull back from her, but she hooks her leg around me, stopping me.
“Talk to me, Lily.”
“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control. When was the last time you were tested?”
I inhale deeply, more embarrassed to say it’s been years since I’ve been with anyone, rather than that I’m tested quarterly. “I’m tested every ninety days.”
Her eyes get round, and she sits up, moving away from me, but I grab her leg and hold her still. “Not because I’m active, but because those are the rules.” I swallow hard. “It’s actually been many, many, many eight seconds since I’ve been with anyone.”
She studies me, eyes sharp, then smiles slightly. “Like how many eight seconds?”
I shrug, running my hands up her calves. “How many eight seconds are there in three years?”
She chokes on air, laughter bouncing off the walls.
“Don’t be a jerk, Lily!”
She rolls onto her side, still laughing, and it starts to piss me off.
Wheezing, she says, “I’m not laughing at the time, Colt,” she takes a breath, “I’m laughing because I should have known. Your charming personality isn’t exactly bedable material.”
I grab her thighs. “You want me.”
“I’m sunshine and rainbows, we like everyone.” She busts out into another fit of giggles, and before I know it, I’m laughing right along with her. I haven’t had this much fun in quite some time, let alone with a woman.
She sits up and leans back against the headboard, and I lie next to her. We’re both naked, and it's comfortable. There’s no pretense to anything right now, and the fact that we’re still just here poking and prodding each other is a huge green flag for me.
Lightning flashes, and it lights the room. She jumps, and it’s then that I see the silvery scar on her knee.
“What is this scar?”
She hesitates for just a second too long. “Old injury,” she says.
“From riding?”
Another pause. “Yeah.”
I glance at her. “What happened?” I ask quietly.
She doesn’t answer right away. Then she exhales. “Bad fall,” she says. “Bad landing. Bad luck.”
“Rehab didn’t take?”
She laughs softly. “Rehab worked for a while, but the knee wouldn’t cooperate.”
The way she says it tells me everything. She’s been where I am now, but she’s accepted it, come to terms with the loss, and has moved on. It’s everything I know I’m supposed to do but can't.
I trace the pale, curved scar. It’s clean and surgical.
“You had surgery,” I say.
She follows my gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs.
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that I don’t ride anymore.”
That’s it. There’s no drama or self-pity about it. Just simple resignation. Even if she is holding back on the story, she’s not holding back on the truth of just being over it.