CHAPTER 24
With Colton still absent from the bedroom, I wander down the hallway and out the open door onto the second story terrace. I walk to the railing that overlooks the lower patio and the ocean beyond and lean against it, enjoying the nighttime breeze whispering over my face and the sight of the moonlight on the dancing waves.
I am so overwhelmed by the sequence of events that has brought me to stand where I am that I can’t even begin to process them. One minute I am lonely, afraid, and feeling too guilty to live again and a few weeks later I am here with a man who’s complicated and wonderful and so incredibly alive. I’ve gone from empty and aching and raw to happy and sated and feeling like I am having a slightly out-of-body experience.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier, I find you wearing one of my favorite shirts.” His words startle me from my thoughts, and I turn to find him beside me, holding a glass of wine out to me.
“Thank you,” I murmur taking a sip and reaching a hand out to rub Baxter’s head as he tries to squeeze between us again.
Colton edges a hip up on the railing and turns to face me as I look out at the water. “I like seeing you here,” he admits, his voice soft with reflection as he tilts his head and watches me. “I like seeing you in my surroundings, in my shirt, with my dog … more than I ever could’ve imagined.” I transfer my gaze from the water to meet his, trying to read the emotions swimming beneath the surface. “That’s a first for me, Rylee.” His confession is whisper soft, and I can barely make out the words above the noise of the surf.
I still when I really hear them, his silent admission speaking volumes to me. Holy shit! Does this mean that he means there is a possibility of more? That whatever we are is more than just one of his stupid arrangements? I can sense his unease that the vulnerability his words have caused him so I try to add some humor to relieve him.
“What? You don’t drag all of your wenches to this hideous lair of yours?”
He reaches out, a quiet smile on his lips that reflects in his eyes, and cups my neck, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Just the one,” he replies. I smile back at him, adoring the tender side of Colton as much as I love the stubborn, feisty one. He lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a long pull on it. “I brought up some dessert,” he offers.
“Really? I thought that’s what we just had.” His smile spreads and eyes widen at the comment and a carefree laugh escapes his lips.
“C’mon,” he tugs on my arm and pulls me down to sink into one of the chaise lounges. Colton walks over to a console hidden in the wall and within seconds, the voice of Ne-Yo sings softly from the speakers around us. I hear Baxter groan in satisfaction as he plops his large body down in the open doorway of the hallway.
“So,” he says as he scoots a table next to me, “I have two options for you. Mint chocolate chip ice cream or chocolate kisses.”
“You remembered!” I gasp at him, surprised that such a little thing as him remembering my two admitted vices from his questions at the carnival would mean so much to me.
“I aim to please, sweetheart.” He smirks as he puts a hand on my back urging me to sit up, and then slides himself behind me.
I lean back into his bare chest, fitting myself to him, and reach out at the tray to grab a Hershey’s kiss. I unwrap it and pop it in my mouth, laying my head back onto his shoulder and groan at its heavenly taste.
“If that’s all it takes to hear you make that sound, I’m buying you a truckload of them,” he breathes in my ear as he moves behind me, adjusting himself.
“Want one?” I tease as I bring it to his lips and then take it away and put it in my mouth, moaning purposefully this time. He laughs and I give him a Hershey kiss for real this time. “A girl could get used to this,” I murmur, liking the warmth of him against me.
We sit for a while and talk idly about this and that: families, travels, experiences, and work. I avoid the topic that I really want to delve into, knowing that his past is off limits. He is funny and witty and attentive and I can feel myself falling deeper and tangling myself further in his tantalizing web.
“Awesome, charismatic, and exciting,” Colton says breaking the silence between us.
I can’t help from laughing out loud at yet another attempt at finding out the meaning behind Ace. “Nope,” I say again, leaning back further into the warmth and comfort of his chest. I can feel his soft chuckle through my back.
“You’re never going to tell me are you?” he asks lifting a hand to brush hair off the side of my neck, exposing my bare skin so that his mouth can lace a kiss there.
“Nope,” I repeat again, fighting the shiver that runs through me as he nuzzles his nose down to my ear.
“How about addictive cock experience?” he murmurs, his breath tickling over my skin and chasing the path of vibrations his voice has left.
The laugh that bubbles in my throat falls silent to a sigh as he nips at my earlobe and sucks gently on the hollow spot just beneath it. “Hmmmm, that could work,” I manage as he wraps his arms around my chest, and I begin to run my fingers up and down the parts of his arms that I can reach. I angle my head further to the side, giving him more access to my expanse of sensitive skin when my nails cross a jagged line on his right forearm.
“That’s a nasty scar.” I murmur. “What super-masculine thing were you doing to acquire that?” I cringe at the thought of how much that must have hurt.
He’s quiet for a beat, kissing my temple and pressing his face to the side of mine so that I can feel him swallow in response. “Nothing of significance,” he says then falls quiet again. “Do you surf, Rylee?” he asks, and I’m not blind to the subtle change of subject.
“Nope. Do you, Ace?” I take a sip of wine as he murmurs in assent.
“Ever tried?” he asks, the rasp of his voice in my ear.
“Uh-uh.”
“I should teach you sometime,” he offers.
“Probably not the best thing to do for someone like me who’s scared of sharks.”
“You’re kidding, right?” When I don’t respond, he continues, “Oh come on, it’d be fun. There aren’t any sharks out there that’ll bug you.”
“Tell that to the people who’ve been chomped on,” I challenge and despite the fact that he’s behind me, I cover my face in embarrassment when I timidly speak my next words. “When I was little I was so scared of them that I never swam in our pool because I used to think they’d come out of the drain and eat me.”
Colton laughs, his deep tone reverberating into me from his chest at my back. “Oh, Rylee, didn’t anyone ever tell you that there are much more dangerous things on dry land?”
Yes. You.
As I try to think of a witty retort, my ear catches the song playing over the speakers and out of reflex I murmur, “Great song.”
Colton still as he listens to the music and I can feel his head nod against the side of mine when he recognizes it. “Pink, right?”
“Hmm-hmm, ‘Glitter in the Air,’” I respond, distracted as I listen to the words of one of Haddie’s and my all-time favorite songs. Colton quiets behind me and runs his hands up my arms and starts to knead the muscles atop my shoulders. His hands are powerful and add just the right amount of pressure. “That feels like heaven,” I breathe as my already relaxed body turns to gel beneath his skillful fingertips.
“Good,” he whispers. “Just relax.”
I close my eyes and hand myself over to him, humming softly to the song. Colton runs his fingers down the line of my spine and rubs my lower back, my head lolling to the side at sublime feeling.
“Here comes the best part,” I say, realizing that I’ve spoken aloud the words I always tease Haddie for when she announces them at the bridge of the song. The lyrics come and I sing along as the words wash over me, moving me as they always do, bringing goose bumps to my flesh. “There you are, sitting in the garden, clutching my coffee, calling me sugar. You called me sugar.”
“I don’t get it,” Colton says, “Why is that the best part?”
“Because it’s the moment she realizes that he loves her,” I muse, a soft smile on my face.
“Why, Rylee, you’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” he teases.
“Oh, shut up,” I shift to swat at him, embarrassed at my candor. Colton grabs my wrist, preventing my hand from connecting, and pulls me into him. His lips slant over mine and makes languid sweeping pass over them before licking into mine. He tastes of chocolate and beer and everything that is uniquely Colton. He cradles my head with one hand while the other runs aimlessly over my bare thighs. Fingertips graze softly without urgency or specific attention to any one spot. I could sit in this moment forever, the unexpected veneration in his actions unraveling me inside out.
Colton brushes a kiss on the tip of my nose before resting his forehead to mine, his hand still cupping the back of my head, fingers still knotted in my hair, his breath fluttering over my lips. “Rylee?”
“Hmm-hmm, Ace.”
He flexes the hand in my hair. “Stay the night with me,” he exhales quietly.
I still, holding my breath. Oh. My. I can feel the emotion behind his request and can sense the difference from the last time he said it to me. He’s not saying it out of obligation but rather because this is what he wants. Does this mean that maybe he feels an inkling of what is coursing through me? My silence belies the truth of how I feel and he mistakes it for hesitancy at his request.
“I’ve never said that before and truly meant it, Rylee.” His voice is a hushed plea that tugs at my heart and confirms my assumptions. He wraps his arms around me, cradling me in his lap, and pulls me with him as he leans back in the chaise, fingers playing in my hair. I remain silent, trying to clear the emotion from my voice before I speak.
“Hmmm, I don’t think I could move even if I tried,” I murmur.
“You’ll stay?” The eagerness in his voice surprises me.
“Yes.”
“In that case,” he muses, “I might have to take advantage of you again.”
“Again?” I laugh. His response is to grab my hips, lift me up and drag me astride him and his unmistakable readiness. He situates me on him so that our bodies fit together perfectly, each movement from him traveling through my thin panties and hitting me in just the right spot.
He sits up and kisses me forcefully, his tongue plunging between my parted lips, his hands pressing my body to him possessively. I grow dizzy wanting more of everything from him.
“I. Want. You. So. Much. Rylee.” He pants between kisses down my neck. I bring my hands to his face, fingers touching coarse whiskers, and draw his head up to meet my eyes. “You’re addictive.”
“I know,” I whisper, telling him with my eyes I understand the depth of that desire. That I feel it too. The muscle in his jaw tenses momentarily before he crushes his mouth to mine, the connection between us a necessity like air.
“Ride me,” he pants. Such a simple command really but it’s the way he says it—as if the sun won’t rise in the morning if I don’t—that has me pulling back. I stare into his eyes, so hypnotizing, so intense, and so full of desire I wouldn’t deny him even if I could.
So I begin to move, surrendering myself to him. Again.