Chapter Twenty
DEE
The Next Morning
My head is throbbing. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my lips feel like sandpaper as I try to swallow. I feel god-awful, but I guess that’s what copious amounts of tequila, frozen cocktails, and lap dances will do to a girl.
Colt is snoring softly in my ear, completely wrapped around me from behind, spooning me like I might float away. His arm is draped around my waist, his leg slung over mine, and his morning breath is, well, very present.
We spent most of the early hours making love, again and again, while the rest of our house partied on.
I fell asleep before the music even stopped, so who knows how long everyone stayed up.
I feel bad for not being the best host. Technically, it was our bachelor and bachelorette party.
But the second Colt flashed me a glimpse of his dominant side again, I was done for.
Put a fork in me.
He makes me weak.
It’s not just lust, it’s chemical. Molecular. Cosmic, even. Every cell in my body is pulled toward him like a magnetic force I can’t, and don’t want to, resist. Being with Colt isn’t just a want, it’s a need. A biological certainty.
He shifts slightly behind me, his breath hitching in that half-snore, half-snort way that’s somehow adorable. His hand glides up from my waist to my breast and settles there like it belongs.
I smile.
Even in his sleep, his hand finds its favorite place.
I glance over at the clock—it’s just turned eight. The world is spinning, and I’m not brave enough to try moving just yet, so I place my hand over his and close my eyes again, praying for stillness.
Bang.
My eyes fly open. Something crashes downstairs, followed by a round of giggling and frantic shushing. Once my heart rate drops below defibrillation levels, I smirk. Whoever’s awake down there is clearly still drunk.
When I glance back at the clock again, it’s now eleven. Colt’s hand is still on my boob, and I giggle, interlocking my fingers with his.
He stirs, groaning. “Ugh… my head…” His hand flies to his forehead as he squints one eye open. “Morning, baby,” he croaks, pressing a kiss to my neck.
I roll over, biting back another giggle when I see how pale he is. Maybe even a touch of green. “Morning.”
He blinks. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a work van and impaled by metal tubing,” I mutter with a dry laugh, then instantly regret it.
Colt’s eyes go wide, and his hand snaps to my stomach in complete panic mode. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it hurting?”
Fucking shit.
“I’m fine! God, I’m sorry. That was meant to be a joke. Obviously a bad one. I just meant I feel like hell, hangover-wise. My stomach’s fine, just a little seedy.”
He exhales, leaning into my touch, but his brows pull together in that way that tells me I’ve screwed up. “Dee, why would you say that? It’s not even funny.”
I bite my bottom lip. “I know. I wasn’t thinking. I guess I’m at a place now where I can talk about it, maybe not laugh, but, also not let it break me. I didn’t realize how raw it still was for you.”
He sighs, forehead resting against mine. There’s a slight shimmer in his eyes—wet, but not quite tears. “Seeing you get hit… that was the worst day of my life. I didn’t know if you were going to make it. Joking about it hits me wrong.”
“I get it. If I could erase that moment from your memory, I would. But Colt, I’m here. I’m alive. I’m healthy. I’m happy. And I’m not going anywhere. You have me, from now until forever.”
He closes his eyes and exhales through his nose, like he’s forcing the emotion down before it consumes him. “Okay,” he whispers. “Just… promise me no more bad jokes about it?”
“Promise.”
I lean in for a kiss, but he pulls back.
I blink. “What now?”
He smirks, his hand sliding back down to my boob. “Also, I’d like to formally request that every morning, I wake up with your tit in my hand.”
I burst out laughing and then instantly wince, clutching my temples. “Ow! Dammit!”
We both groan and raise our hands to our heads in unison.
“No more loud noises,” he mutters, and I nod through the pain.
“I second that. But I think people are awake downstairs. We probably need to get up, show our faces, and maybe apologize for being antisocial sex hermits last night.”
He nods, then grunts as he sits up. “Remind me again why we didn’t cancel the parties?”
I swing my legs out of bed with a sigh. “I don’t know. I should’ve listened to you.”
“Damn right, you stubborn woman,” he teases, heading to the walk-in closet.
I catch sight of the scratches on his back—red, raw, and definitely mine.
Oops.
“Babe, does your back hurt?”
He glances over his shoulder, stretching. “A little itchy, I guess. Why?”
I saunter in behind him, admiring my handiwork. “No reason.” Internally, I giggle.
I fish out some underwear, wincing as my body protests with every bend and movement. Between the hangover and the Colt Olympics last night, everything hurts. I throw on a bra and a flowy dress that requires zero effort.
Colt pulls on a pair of jeans but skips the shirt.
I arch a brow. “You’re going down like that?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. Just… don’t be surprised when the guys start teasing you.”
He grins like he knows exactly what I mean. “Let ’em. They’ve seen me shirtless before. Besides, I’m sure your mum and the other ladies won’t mind the view.”
I shake my head, biting back a smirk. Arrogant arsehole.
He grabs my hand, leading me toward the door. He pauses, staring down at the pillow on the floor, then looks at me with a raised brow.
“I got mad after you left me all hot and bothered,” I admit with a shrug.
He laughs and guides me out the door.
The house is buzzing now with voices, laughter, and clanging pans. When we reach the kitchen, both our mums are at the stove, frying up bacon and eggs like the domestic goddesses they are.
God, I love them.
Colt tugs me toward the coffee machine. “We need about four litres of caffeine to survive today.”
“No arguments here,” I mutter, still wincing from every beam of sunlight in the room.
As we settle into the chaos of the morning after, I shoot a glance at Colt’s scratched-up back.
Let the teasing begin.
Anna’s sitting with Sia, Kira, and the rest of the Slayettes at the dining table, sipping coffee and still wearing last night’s makeup like badges of honor. The guys are all standing at the glass doors, chatting—something about jelly wrestling.
Wait, did I hear that right?
I chuckle to myself, and the girls all look over—eyes instantly zooming in on Colt’s bare chest like heat-seeking missiles. Even Mum’s gaze lingers a second too long. I roll my eyes.
Colt notices the attention and smirks, proud as hell, which only makes me want to knock him down a peg. We walk into the room, and the guys all turn, including Dad. I blink in surprise. There are way more people still here than I expected.
“Morning, Ice Queen,” Anna calls out with a grin that tells me I’m never living last night down.
My cheeks flush. Colt laughs.
“Morning, everyone,” I manage, giving Colt a quick kiss on the cheek before escaping to the kitchen, where our mothers are frying up enough bacon to cure a war zone hangover.
“Have a good night?” Johnny calls out, already smirking.
“Yeah, it was great,” Colt replies casually, strolling over to the guys like he didn’t just spend the night turning me into a puddle of goo.
I look down, mortified.
Johnny claps Colt on the back, and Colt flinches slightly.
“Ouch, man, ease up,” he grunts, rotating like he’s trying to see behind himself.
“What? Can’t handle a slap now, princess?” Johnny quips, then eyes Colt’s back and breaks into hysterics.
I groan, ducking behind the counter as the laughter builds.
“What the hell are you laughing at, dick?” Colt snaps as Hux and Dingo step forward to get a look. Their laughter joins in.
Colt tries to reach around to check his back, sliding his hands up his shoulder blades.
“So…” Dingo drawls. “Not only did she give you frostbite last night, but Dee turned into a tiger, too?”
“What are you on about?” Colt asks, still clearly confused.
“Oh, come on,” Hux scoffs. “You totally came down shirtless, so we’d see the claw marks. Don’t pretend you didn’t know they were there, you goddamn showoff.”
I snort, nearly spilling the coffee I’m pouring, as the girls all shift in their seats to get a better view.
“Are you guys still drunk off your tits?” Colt asks, spinning slightly, eyebrows quirked.
“Babe,” I call sweetly. “There may be some nail marks on your back,” I rush out the last part, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
He turns to me, eyes narrowing. “Seriously, Dee? You let me parade down here shirtless like a walking sex injury?”
I giggle and shrug. “Maybe.”
He groans.
Dad clears his throat, silencing the room like a principal walking into detention.
“It’s not like we didn’t all figure out what you two were up to after your little hissy fit, Colter,” Dad says, straight-faced.
“Anna made sure to tell us, in detail, exactly what you were going to be doing with those ice cubes. Which, by the way, is far too much information for a father to know about his little princess.” Colt visibly swallows.
“And if you ever treat her like that in front of me again, dragging her upstairs like she’s some insolent child, I’ll make my own set of claw marks on you. You understand me, son?”
Colt’s serious face locks into place instantly, his cocky demeanor vanishing. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I was drunk, and I know that’s no excuse, but seeing another man touch her, I lost it.”
The guys chuckle behind him at the quick shift in Colt’s posture.
“You’re damn right that’s no excuse,” Dad says, sternly. “Don’t let it happen again, or so help me, I’ll have her back living under my roof faster than you can say ‘rock god.’ ”
I scoff, crossing my arms. “Oh, come on, Dad. That’s not even realistic.”
“Dee, stay out of this,” he snaps, then turns to Colt. “And you, go put a damn shirt on. Show these women some respect.”
Colt nods and walks out of the kitchen.
Everyone laughs, and I bite back a grin.
It still amazes me how my dad is the only person in the world who can intimidate ‘the’ Colter Slade.
“Good job, Mr. Norman,” Johnny says with a grin. “It’s about time someone scared the king of the world.”
“Damn right,” Dad mutters. “He’d better keep treating her right, or he’ll be answering to me.”
Just then, Joseph walks in, looking like a reanimated corpse. “Ugh, too bright,” he groans, shielding his face with one hand as he stumbles toward me. “Dee… coffee. Now.”
I pass him a mug with a sympathetic smile.
“Where’s Danny?”
“Curled up on the couch with Princess Sofia. The poor guy had one too many frozen daiquiris.”
Joseph narrows his eyes and brushes my ponytail aside.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
His grin widens. “Dee’s got a hickey, Dee’s got a hickey—”
“Shut up!” I laugh, smacking his hand away as the entire room erupts. I yank my hair back to cover the spot and glare at Anna, who’s doubled over laughing. “Oh, shut it, Madam A.”
The Slayettes lose it, while my parents and Colt’s mum exchange a look of confusion.
Anna quickly quiets and slides down into her seat like a guilty schoolgirl.
I help finish prepping the plates, and we’re just setting everything on the table when Colt walks back in fully clothed, long sleeves and all. I can’t help but grin. It’s like he’s doing penance for showing up half-naked. I kind of love him even more for it.
We sit down to eat, and I notice Sia, sitting across from me, looking… off.
“Sia, you okay? Rough night?”
She smiles a little and shakes her head. “Didn’t drink. Still fighting this stupid bug.”
Dingo takes her hand and squeezes it gently. His jaw tightens with concern. But then she pulls away suddenly and claps a hand over her mouth. Without a word, she bolts from the table, her chair skidding back loudly across the floor.
My stomach sinks.
“Is she okay?” Colt asks, looking at Dingo.
Dingo hesitates. “It’s nothing serious. Just some stomach thing.
Her doctor said it’s messing with her gut bacteria or something.
She’s on meds, she’ll be fine. I’ll go check on her.
” He gets up, leaving behind a thick silence.
I glance at Anna, then at Johnny, and we all wear the same uneasy expression.
“I don’t buy it,” Anna mutters. “Something’s not right.”
The Slayettes all nod.
“I guess they’ll tell us when they’re ready,” Hux says, unusually thoughtful. “All we can do is be here when they do.”
He’s right. But something tells me he knows more than he’s letting on.
Colt’s mum chimes in before anyone else can speak. “Huxley is right. Let them come to you. Now eat up, everyone, your breakfast is getting cold.”
The day passes quickly, and most stay well into the evening, but by midnight, Colt and I are finally alone and making our way to bed.
“I think our parties went well, don’t you?” Colt asks as he closes the bedroom door behind us.
I glance back at him with a smirk. “I think we missed most of our parties and ended up in this bed a little too early, but I doubt anyone cared.” I pause. “Well… except maybe Dad. He definitely cared.”
I giggle, but Colt doesn’t smile right away. Instead, a more serious look casts over his face as he pulls off his long-sleeved shirt and tosses it aside.
“I feel like I’m finally making progress with him,” he says, raking a hand through his hair.
“And then something small happens, and he comes at me with that tone, the one that has me biting my damn tongue instead of biting back. It’s not fear exactly, just…
I don’t know. He knows how to get under my damn skin. ”
I tilt my head, watching him. There’s no weakness in his words, just the weight of trying to prove himself to a man who doesn’t give that trust easily.
“He’s testing you,” I say gently. “And you keep passing, even when he doesn’t let you see it. He knows you’d go to war for me. That’s what matters.”
Colt gives a low grunt, then looks me over as I shimmy out of my dress, letting it fall to the floor beside his shirt. His gaze heats as it drags over my body, and the edge in his expression softens into something entirely different.
A half-smirk curves on his lips. “I don’t care how hungover I am, baby. I can’t get enough of you.” He steps in close, his fingers gliding down my arms, reigniting a delicious fire in my belly.
“No teasing this time. Just slow, dirty, old-fashioned love making,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, then finishes with, “for at least half the night.”
A breath catches in my throat. “Well, who could say no to that?”