CHAPTER NINE
COLT
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Fucking hell!
I crashed out when I got home after leaving the club earlier than I normally do and turned my phone off.
As I do each morning, I reach for my phone, check the time, open my messages and...I wasn’t expecting to find an image of Riley half naked wearing a sexy set of black lingerie in my inbox.
Talk about a boost to the morning wood.
Good fucking god.
My hand slides under the sheet and I grip my cock, echoes of her Aussie accent matching the erotic image before me.
She’s such a beautiful drunken mess that I’m torn between feeling wrong about what I’m doing as I begin stroking and wishing she was here in person to wrap that naughty mouth around my shaft.
Bots don’t send sexy pictures.
They weren’t sexy.
Trust me, Riley, they were sexy.
But that wasn’t what triggered her to send this photo of herself. I almost feel guilty, but I don’t, because I provoked her.
Sure, but do you have your little shorts underneath and a garden tool tucked behind your back?
You know, men like you are just as bad as my father. My job doesn’t mean I’m not feminine.
Never said it does.
You implied it.
Did I?
Yes.
Prove me wrong.
She has more than proven me wrong. I close my eyes; the images of her toned body wrapped in delicious black lingerie become animated.
I bring her to life inside my world.
She’s standing before me (in my mind) and I stride over, guiding her to the bed as I take her mouth roughly and kiss her.
Riley moans, wanting more, but I release her lips.
“You’ve been a bad girl,” I smirk darkly. “Lie down and spread your legs so I can punish you.”
She lets me nudge her down onto the covers and lifts one leg as I slip off her panties. Then she parts her thighs, keeping them up as my large hands peel her open further.
Then I lean in and run my tongue over her with one gentle swipe.
Riley cries out a guttural moan and arches off the bed. “More.”
I blow on her pussy.
“Colt,” she begs, my name on her lips making my cock thicken in my hand.
“Like that, naughty girl? Let’s get this pussy dripping.”
Fuck, my hand strokes faster, imagining how wet she would get for me if this situation ever manifested into reality.
Is Riley aroused by our conversations?
Does she wonder how thick my cock is?
Does she rub her clit and come, imagining me between her legs? My mouth on her hard nipples, my cock slamming into her.
My dick explodes, come spurting into the palm of my hand.
But it’s not enough.
Not when the image of her spread in front of me like a delicious buffet, glistening with her desire, is still in my head.
I want more.
I need more.
Telling her she’s beautiful last night came from a place deep inside of me. My fingers had been itching to dominate her, protect her, and ensure she got home safe.
The feeling of being so far away from her is frustrating.
But why?
There are hundreds of gorgeous women in this city.
None of them are Riley.
I don’t think I’ve ever craved a woman like this and not been able to touch her. The distance is likely exaggerating it, and it will pass.
I dunno. Hearing Riley’s sweet voice took it to another level. Yesterday I may have been able to forget her.
Now?
Now I don’t think I can.
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I WAIT UNTIL nine in the morning, Melbourne time, then call her phone.
“Ugh.” She clears throat and coughs. “Huurrow, god, my head, oh fuck—”
“Good morning, beautiful,” I purr.
I hear a bang, fuck, then her sheets rustling.
“Colt?”
“Riley,” I rasp, walking over to the floor to ceiling windows of my penthouse and gaze out over Central Park.
Underfoot are dark wood floors, the walls a soft, barely perceptible olive, with contemporary furniture in a mix of natural colors.
The penthouse has three levels, one with my master suite, a space I protect at all costs. No one except me and the real estate agent who sold it to me has been in there. Well, and the delivery team.
I slide my free hand into my seersucker pockets and take in the silence.
Riley coughs, takes a huge drink of water— noisily—then groans.
“Is this about the photo, because I was very, very drunk and have never done anything like that in my life.”
A smile stretches across my face, amused by her admission. “You don’t normally send nudes?”
“It was not a nude!”
“It was almost nude.”
“Oh, god, oh my god. I can’t talk to you,” she cries, and by the muffled sound of her voice, I suspect she’s dropped her head into the pillow or her hands.
I laugh.
“Please tell me you didn’t...you know.”
There’s silence as she waits for me to answer. I let the question hang to torture her a little more. It benefits me to have her feeling so vulnerable.
“Riley, I’m a red-blooded man. What do you think I did with a photo like that?” My voice is filled with amusement.
She makes this miserable mumbling sound like I killed her cat as I keep chuckling quietly. “I’m going to die of embarrassment. It was nice to know you. Goodbye.”
My laughter fades away as I walk to an armchair, sit and stretch out my legs in front of the fire. A thought occurs to me. “I can even the scoreboard.”
“How? Oh no, please do not send me a dick pic.”
My brows lift as I smile. “You wouldn’t want to see my cock?” I know she would.
“No. Well. I mean, I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“Lovely is not a word I’ve ever heard to describe my cock.”
“Please stop saying cock.”
“Penis.”
“Or that.”
“Answer the question, Ms. Scott. You don’t really think I am a troll, do you?”
I know she doesn’t. Not to be a dick about it—pun unintended—but I’m a good-looking guy. If I were a horror to look at, I’d admit it. I was blessed with good genes from both my parents and take good care of my body.
“I said sorry for that. You are...um...you are very handsome. God, why is this always so awkward with us?”
I know why.
“Flick to FaceTime,” I demand knowing she will freak out.
“What? No. Are you insane? I’ve just woken up. I drank half a gallon of wine and think I might have had a puff on some dude’s cigarette. I still have mascara...and I think it might also be on my lip.”
It won’t be that bad.
“I’m no expert, but I’m almost certain that’s not where mascara belongs.”
“I was drunk. My aim was off. Anyway, can’t FaceTime.”
I push the button.
Riley answers on the fifth second. The camera pointed at her ear. All I can see are wild red coils of her hair and a diamond earring. Although I suspect it’s not authentic. Maybe I’ll send her diamonds.
Where the fuck did that come from?
I have never bought a woman a diamond, ever. Not my mother. Certainly not a woman I’ve been intimate with.
“Lovely. Better than your nose, I suppose.” I rub the back of my head and yawn.
“Stop showing off your biceps,” Riley grumbles.
“Stop showing off your...lobes.”
She starts giggling, and it makes my world a billion times brighter. I want to reach into the phone and pull her into my world.
I want to feel her.
I want to kiss those sassy lips and see what she tastes like.
“I’m only laughing because I’m still half drunk.”
“Noted.”
Next minute, the world inside the screen tilts, and she’s moving about in the bathroom. I hear her brushing her teeth and enjoy the view of her tiles.
They are white.
“You do know I can’t smell your breath, right?” I inquire, amused by her vanity.
“Schmakes me freel breater.”
Okay, this call might take a while.
“Do you normally drink this much?” I ask.
The phone is lifted and an angry Riley appears in the screen, toothbrush in her mouth and, yup, mascara on her lip.
“Wha? Nwoooo, it swaz va fwestival.”
I translate that well enough.
“Pretty sure we’re not supposed to see one another in the bathroom like this until after we’ve had sex.” I say, lifting an inquisitive brow and enjoy how she blushes.
The phone lands on the counter, I hear her spit, rinse, and then climb back into bed. She must’ve washed her face as the mascara is now gone. Left is a red-cheeked natural beauty.
My chest tightens in a way I’ve never felt before.
What is this?.
I don’t understand any of these strange and wonderful feelings, but I can’t stay away from her.
“Go on. Tell me how stupid I am for sending the photo. I just...you said I was a tomboy, and maybe I am, but not always. Sometimes I’m girly. It should be a choice, you know.”
I smile and can see it’s pissing her off, but she’s misreading it. Because I’m not judging her, I’m adoring all of her. The crazy, wild curls, and how she thinks she’s insecure but is probably the most real person I’m ever met.
I lift my ankle onto my knee and adjust the angle of my phone.
“Whoever told you that you aren’t feminine is wrong, Riley. You’re the most sexy, beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a lot. So trust me.”
She blinks.
Then blinks again as her cheeks turn deep pink.
“I want to take that as a compliment, but—”
“You should.”
“But I got stuck at I’ve seen a lot part.” She shakes her head.
Shit.
“It’s not...well, okay, it is...just take the compliment.” I’m not going to lie; I’ve fucked a lot of women. I’ve also seen a ton of them at the Obsidian Club, although I don’t sleep with my employees and as a strict rule.
Riley deserves some honesty, but I’m tied by the membership legal contracts and can’t say more.
“You looked sexy. Own it.”
She nods, and big eyes lift to meet mine.
Finally.
“I’m not really a phone sex kind of girl. You’re a hot guy, Colt. A rich one, obviously. I’m sure many girls would love to be in my shoes right now, but... look, I really like talking to you, but I’m not some horny sex kitten.”
I don’t know about that.
“And now that I’m sober. Mostly. I don’t understand what we’re doing here.”
Neither do I.
But I’m not stopping.
“I don’t need to phone a girl in Australia to have phone sex, Riley. I’m not in search of a sex kitten. I want to talk to you. That’s all.”
And fuck me, I mean every single word.
“That’s all?” she asks, her brows gently lifting in challenge.
I contemplate her question for a long moment and watch as her eyes dart around my face in question.
I have been honest with her from the start, and I plan to continue.
“If you were here in the United States, in my home, I’d drag you upstairs, tear off your clothes and fuck you until you screamed.”
Riley’s eyes dilate and flare as she swallows.
My cock thickens.
“Do you scream, Riley?”
“No,” she whispers.
My voice is rough as I reply. “You would with me.”