“Stop asking questions and move!”
His shoulders shook with laughter, but he did as she asked. He moved. And sweet mother of pearl, how the man moved. In a shockingly short time, he had her crying out for him, sensation and emotions slamming blissfully together as their bodies did the same. And this time when she lost control, he finally did too.
After, when he went to shift his weight off her, she tightened her grip on him, not ready to let go yet. With a wordless comforting murmur, he slid an arm beneath her, rolling until he was on his back and she was all but poured over him.
Get up and go downstairs to your place, her brain said. Before you get used to this.
Oh please just one more minute, her body said.
And her body won.
Chapter 20
#SonOfABumblebee
Spence opened his eyes when Colbie’s phone went off with multiple texts in quick succession.
Facedown on his bed, sated and still panting, she just groaned. “I’m going to kill them,” she muttered into the mattress. “Unless they’re in jail. If they’re in jail, I’m going to leave them there.” She sighed. “But I really hope they’re not in jail.”
“Hey.” He turned her face to him, not liking the worry and guilt in her eyes. “They’re legal adults. For that matter, so is your mom. You’re not responsible for them.”
“I know. But it’s the life I’ve made. I take care of them. Always have.”
Ever since her dad had left. It was her ugly past rearing its head and oh how he understood that.
“Maybe it’s time to make a life for you,” he said.
She shrugged. “The thing is, when the writing’s good, I’m happy. I really don’t need much more than that. The truth is, I’m fine with my life because I’m naturally introverted and actually pretty boring.”
“Introverted, maybe a little. But boring?” Spence gently tugged on a loose wayward strand of her silky hair, dipping a little to look into her eyes. “Never.”
“I am,” she said on a laugh.
“Honey, the woman in my bed is the furthest thing from boring I’ve ever seen.”
She blushed a little. It was cute. She snorted too. Also cute. “That was all you,” she said, poking him in the chest.
“No.” He caught her hand. “I’ve been with just me.” He shook his head and laughed. “Trust me. You’re the necessary ingredient and wild card.” Utterly true. And something else he hadn’t seen coming—she’d distracted the hell out of him but he’d still managed to work, disproving his theory that he was all work and no play.
Which wasn’t even the biggest problem. Nope, that honor went to the fact that she was leaving soon, something he wasn’t ready to face.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “As it turns out,” she said softly, “you’re my necessary ingredient too. I’ve been writing like I haven’t been able to in . . . forever. You unblocked me.”
He smiled and lifted her onto his lap so that she was straddling him. “So I’m your muse, huh?”
She slid her fingers into his hair and he nearly purred like a cat. “It would seem,” she murmured.
“Well then, by all means feel free to use me anytime you need, creatively or otherwise,” he said.
She wriggled a little, giving out a soft hum of what he hoped was pleasure as she felt him harden beneath her. “Now?” she whispered, the excitement unmistakable in her voice.
“Now.”
Spence was wrapped in warm, sated woman and feeling pretty damn good about the evening as he dozed off, when suddenly Colbie stirred and murmured his name.
It was one a.m. and she’d been out for at least thirty minutes. He’d put her into a pleasure coma and it’d made him feel more than a little smug. He stroked a hand down her back. “You okay?”
“Who’s Brandon?” she asked, voice thick with sleep. “I meant to ask that before but you distracted me.”
“He’s an old college roommate.”
“And . . .?” she asked, running a finger over his chest, an unbelievably soothing touch.
“. . . And,” he said, “he’s also someone I stupidly gave an interview to when he asked.”
“Hmm . . .” Her fingers danced lightly over his ribs and abs, which he liked way too much. “I take it that the interview didn’t go well,” she said.
“He works for a tech magazine and he needed a story. I agreed, as long as the article was business only, nothing personal. He promised.”
“And then . . . he broke the promise?” she asked, her hand stilling.
“He gave my life story,” Spence said. “Most of it pieced together from what he knew of me in college, the rest from gossip he’d dug up.”
“Ah,” she said. “And the next thing you knew, you were on San Fran’s most eligible bachelor list, getting marriage proposals via texts with NSFW pics to go with,” she guessed.
He groaned, which got a smile out of his bedmate. “Well you are pretty eligible . . .” she teased.
He sighed and she laughed, but it faded as she slid her hand up his chest to cup his jaw, her eyes sympathetic now and full of understanding. “I get it,” she said. “No one’s built for this kind of public scrutiny.”
The thought that she understood him should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t.
Because in one week she’d be gone . . .
“He had no right to do that,” she said, “to play on your friendship. I haven’t known you very long, but even I know that your privacy is super important to you. He shouldn’t have asked you for the interview in the first place.”
“And now he wants a follow-up interview.”
“I hope you told him where he could put it,” she said, voice tight with anger for him.
That she was worked up over this for him was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He covered her hand on his chest with his own. “I did tell him.”
“But it still sucks,” she guessed. “So . . . how can I make you feel better?”
He slowly nudged her hand southbound.
Colbie laughed. Her eyes were that dark jade green they got when she was unbearably aroused and she reared up so that her mouth could brush against his, her lips soft and sweet. When her tongue touched his, his control snapped and he moved his hand to the back of her neck, closing his mouth over hers, drinking her in.
He should’ve been sated, but the kiss was deep and going deeper by the second. Her hands were running over his body, stopping at all his favorite parts. Ripping his mouth free, he rested his forehead against hers for a few seconds, listening to the both of them breathe like lunatics.
“This is a little bit insane,” she whispered.
“Completely insane.”
“I think about you too much,” she admitted.
“Yeah?” He buried his fingers in her hair and met her gaze. “What do you think about?”
“This. You.”