Chapter 15 #2
The streets are still alive, even late at night.
The restaurant terraces are full of groups sipping limoncello while they chat.
Waiters congregate on the edges, unconcerned with pushing out patrons to turn over their tables.
An accordion plays from one of the nearby piazzas, and as touristy as it may be, the music gives the city a romantic air.
I could spend the entire night walking in silence with Colton, breathing in the life of the city.
But since I’m wearing torture devices other women like to call fashion, I force him back to the apartment and kick my heels off the second we walk through the door, moaning in relief. But as I head to my room to crash, I remember a whole other problem.
“What’s wrong?” Colton asks when I groan.
“Inez did the zipper of my dress, and I can’t get it down. I’m gonna have to sleep in the damn thing.”
“I’ll get it.” He stands from where he had dropped onto the couch and gestures for me to join him. I stare at him with wide eyes. This seems like a line we shouldn’t cross. “What? It’s not like I haven’t helped you out of a dress before.”
My brain is conjuring images of Colton helping me out of this dress. Of him kissing along the low neckline and ripping it down the center because he’s too desperate to use the zipper. Of him dropping to his knees in front of me…
God fucking dammit.
“Yeah, but…”
He scoffs. “But what?”
“It’s not really appropriate now,” is what comes out, and his brow furrows, clearly confused. He doesn’t know I’m secretly going into a jealous rage when sexy Italian women hit on him and having explicit visions like a super horny oracle.
“How the hell is that not appropriate?” he asks.
Shit shit shit. I have to get him off this topic. He can’t know where my head went when that woman touched his arm, the urge to rip it away from his body and replace every woman’s touch with my own.
But that’s the perfect solution. Turn my weird comment around to the person who made me lose my mind in the first place.
“I don’t know if your girl would appreciate you undressing another woman,” I say with a wiggle of my eyebrows.
He steps toward me. “Yes, Anonymous Woman’s heart would break.”
I pinch my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing again, taking a step back before his hand can land on my arm. “I’d never disrespect Anonymous like that.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he takes another step forward with an infuriatingly sexy smirk on his face. “Of course not. And me seeing your bare back would be the ultimate disrespect.”
I start backing away from him, my heart galloping in my chest as he continues to advance. “I’m a girl’s girl.”
He lets out a sharp laugh, stalking me around the living room with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Very funny, Quinn. Give it up.”
“You’ll never catch me!”
When he lunges, I squeal, twirling away and bolting across the room.
He’s a step behind, his laughter echoing through the room.
I’m sure I have him beat, but as I round the dining room table, I find the bench pulled out, blocking my exit.
I stop short to avoid hitting it, Colton’s arms encircling my waist as he collides with me, barely keeping us from toppling over.
Laughter racks my body until I look up at him, and all traces of amusement disappear in an instant.
He’s watching me with the same greedy expression from that day in my apartment with the lingerie clutched between us.
He takes one small step away, letting his hands slide across my stomach before settling on my hips.
“You’re a menace,” he says, voice low, his breath coasting over my cheek and shooting electricity down my spine. “Now, shut up so I can get you out of this dress.”
I don’t trust my voice, so I settle for a whispered, “Okay.”
I shiver when his fingertips brush the nape of my neck. He grabs the metal pull, working it down. The rest of the room disappears, the noise of the city fading away until all I can hear is the sound of Colton exposing my back.
A quarter of the way down, it catches. Colton tugs, trying to free it.
“Goddamnit,” he says as he tries pulling from different angles. A laugh bubbles up in my throat as the tension in the room fades. This feels like us, me laughing and him scowling.
Finally, the zipper breaks free and Colton continues its trek down. He lets out a victorious whoop.
“So proud of yourself,” I say with a glance over my shoulder, not realizing he’d shifted closer. Our eyes lock in on each other, and my stomach swoops.
“It’s the small victories,” he says, maintaining eye contact as he starts unzipping the dress again, more slowly this time, like he’s savoring each click of the teeth. My spine curves slightly as his thumb follows the line down to the top of my ass, and a little sigh escapes my throat.
We still haven’t looked away, and every cell in my body feels like it’s vibrating. His thumbs hook on either side of the material, running up my naked back. The straps fall from my shoulders, the dress held up by my arm across my chest.
His fingertips skim over my shoulders, his eyes tracking the progress as they flit over the draped fabric.
“Wasn’t too disrespectful, right?” he asks, his voice teasing, but he’s breathing as heavily as I am. “Modesty intact. Strategic hand placement, like an ancient statue of Aphrodite.”
I swallow thickly, trying to gather back my scattered brain cells so I can think with something besides the heavy ache between my legs.
“I’m disappointed in you,” I say, forcing levity into my voice. Colton’s gaze flies to mine. “This is Rome. I’m not Aphrodite. I’m Venus.”
His eyes flare.
“Fuck it,” he whispers.
A second later, his mouth descends on mine.
It’s… fuck. It’s perfect, with the exact right pressure before he nips at my lip, begging me to join him in the madness.
I whimper into his mouth, my own opening for him as he deepens the kiss.
He kisses me like we’ve been doing it for weeks, months, years, and he’s spent every second studying exactly what I liked. This doesn’t feel like our first.
“Delicious,” Colton murmurs into my mouth. “Just like I knew you’d be.”
I turn to face him fully, releasing my hold on the dress so it pools around my waist, and he wastes no time pushing it over my hips. It falls to the floor in a heap, leaving me in nothing but my lace underwear. Colton steps back to take me in, a low, desperate groan tearing from his throat.
“Quinn,” he murmurs, his fingertips making a trek from my hip bone up to my breast. His hand trembles slightly, the only outward sign that he’s as affected by this moment as I am. We both moan as his hand closes over me.
He brings his mouth to my neck, his tongue stroking the wildly beating pulse point.
My hands can’t stop moving, exploring his chest and shoulders the way I wanted to when I ran into him after his shower, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt to savor the hard panes of his body.
Colton moves down to my breast, taking my nipple between his teeth, and a shudder rolls through me.
“Shit, Colton. Yes.”
He groans against my sensitive flesh, growling, “Say it again,” into the hollow between my breasts before taking the second nipple between his lips.
I can’t focus beyond the overwhelming pleasure of his mouth. “What?”
He stands to his full height then, towering over me as he wraps my hair around his hand to tilt my head back. His eyes are blown black, feral and sexy as hell. “Say my name, Quinn.”
“Colt—”
He smashes his mouth back into mine before I can get the final syllable out, like he can consume his name on my lips, like he can claim me with a kiss. And I want that, want this man who seems to know my body on pure instinct to lay a claim to me in a way that will ruin me for all other people.
Colton’s other hand comes around to the small of my back, pulling me against him so I can feel how hard he is.
He walks me back toward his bedroom, never breaking contact, until he has me pinned to his bedroom door.
I rip my mouth away from him, sucking in heaving breaths as his lips move across my jaw and back down my throat.
His tongue against my skin is all-consuming.
He whispers words against my neck, nothing more than sounds pressed into my skin until a few float up. “Perfect. So goddamn perfect for me.”
“Please, Colton. Please touch me. I need it.”
He slowly slides his hands over my soft stomach until they dip under the lace, pulling back to watch my face with a fascinated gleam in his deep green eyes. “Is this where you need me, Chaos?”
I nod quickly, and his lips quirk up, just enough to give me that adorable dimple. The compulsion to reach up and run my thumb over the indent is strong, but it’s washed away when his fingers slip down another inch to find how soaked I am.
He drops his head into the crook of my neck. “Quinn. You’re so fucking wet. So sweet and ready for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I say, more breath than word as he circles my clit. “More.”
The curve of his smile against my skin is almost as erotic as his fingers, slipping inside of me and creating the perfect feeling of fullness as his thumb takes over on my clit. “Whatever you need, Chaos. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you.”
I need him, around me and in me, as overwhelmed by this insanity as I am. But I’m too close to use my words anymore. All I can do is clutch to his waist and force myself to breathe.
“Yes, Quinn,” he says, pulling back to look at me. “Come for me. Fuck, I need to see it. You have no fucking idea how badly I need to see it.”
And then it crashes into me, and I’m crying out, close to sobbing at the relief as the most powerful orgasm of my life wracks my body.
I tremble as I slowly come down from the highest of highs. When I open my eyes, Colt’s watching me, heat and promise and reverence in his gaze. He holds eye contact as he slips his fingers out of my underwear and between his own lips, his eyes closing on a groan as he samples me.
“Fuck, Chaos. I always knew you’d be my favorite flavor.”
I want to stay in the moment, to push this man onto his back and ride him until we both forget our names. But one word in that sentence hooks its claws in my chest and won’t let go, no matter how hard I try to shake free.
Always.
“What?” I ask, slipping out from between him and the door. Colton collapses forward, arms braced like his body can’t catch up to the sudden loss of contact. He lets his head fall forward, banging lightly against the wood.
He’s gorgeous like this, half undone, hair mussed from my hands and lips swollen from my own. My body screams to keep going, begging to see just how beautiful he’ll be when he’s undone completely.
But that word repeats in my head. Always, always, always. This attraction isn’t new for him.
“What do you mean, always?” I ask.
He pulls himself straight, running a hand down his face. “We don’t need to talk about this.”
“I think we do,” I say frantically.
Colt rubs the back of his neck. “Come on, Quinn, who isn’t attracted to you?”
I’ve received plenty of romantic attention, even though society tells me I’m not desirable as a plus-size woman. But Colton never gave me any sign that he was interested in me until things started getting complicated this summer. Or had he, and I’d been completely oblivious?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Didn’t seem relevant.”
“Didn’t seem relevant?” I shout, and he shrugs again.
I start pacing our living room, my mind whirling.
He’s been attracted to me from the start.
How did I not see it? And what does it mean now?
Does he want something more with me, or is he just physically attracted to me?
If he wants something, can I give it to him?
Am I even capable of being in a stable relationship, or will I self-sabotage like I have so many other times until eventually our relationship implodes and takes our friendship with it?
“I’m freaking the fuck out, Colton.”
He takes me by the shoulders, leaning down to bring our faces level.
“Will I probably always be attracted to you? Yes. Look in a mirror. But I love our friendship. I’m not asking you for more, so please stop spiraling about what this means.
We’re us, and in the choice between your friendship for life or a hookup, I’d choose you every time. No contest.”
A hookup.
I know that’s what this is. He just talked to me last weekend about not wanting a relationship—not being able or willing to put someone’s needs before his own—but the way my heart clenches, I don’t know if I can do my usual friends-with-benefits thing this time.
He’s too precious, and it’s too complicated.
“You’re right,” I say, stepping back. “We’re best friends, and we shouldn’t mess with that. Starting now, no more funny business.”
He scoffs. “Funny business?”
“Yes,” I say, planting my hands on my hips. “No more kissing and touching. Just friends, right?”
He nods, turning away slightly. I just catch sight of him adjusting himself with a wince.
“You’re still hard?” I ask, a laugh escaping me.
His brow lifts. “You’re still naked?”
I look down at my still mostly exposed body. “Oh, shit!” I push past him and shimmy my dress back on, leaving the zipper down but myself protected. My very own gladiatorial armor.
“Are we good?” he asks.
I force a smile. “Of course.”
One side of his lips hitch up. “Good.” He clears his throat. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
I snort. “Sure. Makes sense.” I press my lips together to keep in my laugh.
He shakes his head, his eyes sparkling. “Don’t be a dick.”
I lift a hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Go take care of yours.”
He runs a hand over his mouth, ineffectively hiding his smile. “You’re gonna think about it, aren’t you?”
I swallow thickly. “Of course not.”
One eyebrow lifts, and it’s infuriatingly sexy. “Not even a little curious?”
I squirm under his gaze. Of course I’m curious. I want to know what he looks like when he’s lost to his pleasure. Do his shoulders slump forward when he finishes? Or do his muscles go taut, his head thrown back in pleasure and exposing the line of his neck? Will he think of me?
His smirk grows. “Only seems fair, don’t you think? I saw you. Seems a bit imbalanced.”
“Colton,” I say, a reprimand in my tone.
He lifts his hands, backing toward the bathroom. “Your choice. You know where I’ll be.”
He slips into the bathroom, giving me one last heated look before letting the door swing closed between us.