The Driven Series

by Bromberg, K.

  All thoughts leave my head as we enter the great room of the house. I am met with an unhindered view of a beautiful terrace and the ocean. Glass pocket doors have been slid aside, leaving the house open to the subtle breeze blowing in off of the water. My gasp is audible as I step past him without invitation and out onto the deck to admire the sight for several moments.

  “It’s beautiful. I—” I murmur, turning my head back to him. He is leaning against the back of a chocolate leather couch, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, and the look in his eyes as he connects with mine is so intense that I suddenly feel shy. I feel as if he can see everything deep within me: my hopes, my fears, and the fact that I’ve fallen in love with him. Uncomfortable that my every thought feels like it is on display, I try to break up the intense atmosphere. “Thank you for having me here, Colton.”

  He pushes off of the couch and saunters toward me, every part of my body aching for his touch. “I’m glad you’re here. Would you like a tour or a drink out on the patio?”

  “Patio,” I tell him immediately, wanting to soak up the sun and the beautiful view with him. I wander out onto the sprawling deck complete with an infinity edge pool, built-in barbeque island, and the most comfortable looking patio furniture I have ever seen.

  “Take a seat,” he tells me. “I’m going to get us a couple of drinks. Is wine okay?”

  “Sounds great.” I ignore his request to sit and walk to the edge of the railing to take in the unobstructed view of the beach that stretches to the left and right of us. My thoughts turn to what it would be like to wake up every day to this spectacular view. Beside Colton watching this spectacular view, to be exact.

  “I could sit here all day.” I’m startled by his voice behind me.

  “It’s very soothing.” He sidles up next to me and places a glass of wine on the railing beside me. “Thank you. I imagine it could be very distracting when you have other things to do.”

  Colton places a soft kiss on my bare shoulder and keeps his lips there as he murmurs, “Nothing could be more distracting than you standing here right now with the wind in your hair and your dress billowing around you, revealing those sexy legs of yours.”

  His words are like an electric pulse to my system, stoking my ever-present burn for him. Despite the warmth of him behind me, I have goose bumps on my arms. “Are you trying to sweet talk me, Ace, so that you can get laid tonight?”

  “If it’s working, then yes I am.”

  How will I ever be able to say no to him?

  “I told you,” I say, feigning disinterest, “I’m not really into race car drivers.”

  “Ah … yes.” He laughs, moving to the side of me, resting his hip on the rail but keeping a hand on my lower back. “I forgot, only baseball players do it for you.” He takes a long sip from his bottle of beer, watching me. “I’m sure you could be persuaded, though.”

  I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head, trying to hide my smile. “Might take an awful lot of persuading …”

  He moves quickly so my back is to the railing now and his arms box me in on either side. His warm, hard body presses up against mine and a mischievous grin plays at the curves of his mouth. “You know I can be awfully convincing, Rylee.”

  In a flash, his lips are on my mouth and his tongue is pushing through my parted lips to meld with mine, attacking my mouth with purpose. I wrap my arms through his, hooking them up so I can press my hands against his shoulders. He deepens the kiss, demanding more, taking more, and igniting little licks of desire deep in my belly. One of his hands palms my butt and presses me against him while the other leaves whisper-soft touches on my bare back. I moan softly from the multitude of sensations his touch alone creates.

  I hear a thumping sound and I screech suddenly, breaking away from our kiss as I feel something insistently trying to force itself between his hips and mine. I laugh loudly as I look down at the oversized ball of black, white, and tan fur. A beautiful and rather large dog wriggles against us, tail beating against the railing, wet nose pushing and prodding.

  I take the dog’s head in my hands. “Baxter!” Colton groans at him. “I apologize. He’s a little out of control.”

  I coo to the gentle giant, and when I begin scratching behind his ears, he plops his bottom down on the ground complacently, tail thumping, and groans in pleasure.

  “Holy shit! How’d you do that?”

  “What?” I ask him over my shoulder as I squat down, continuing to rub the dog.

  “He’s never that calm with anybody except for me.”

  “I’m a dog person.” I shrug casually, as if that explains everything, and move my hands to rub the dog’s chest so that his back leg kicks out in pleasure.

  “Obviously,” Colton says, bending over to kiss the dog on the head and scratch the fur on his neck. The sight makes me smile. “You’re supposed to help me get the girls, big guy, not come in between us when we’re kissing.”

  I laugh as Baxter groans on cue. “He’s beautiful, Colton.”

  “Yeah, he’s a keeper,” he tells me as he takes my hand and pulls me up. “I haven’t taken him for his walk yet today so he’s mad at me.”

  “Then let’s go take him,” I offer up, a walk on the beach sounds like a perfect idea. Colton cocks his head and furrows his brow at me. Did I say something wrong? “What?”

  “You just surprise me sometimes,” he says, shaking his head at me.

  “Good surprise or bad surprise?” I ask him over the rim of my glass of wine.

  “Good,” he says softly, reaching out and touching a loose curl on my neck. “You’re just so different than what I’m used to.”

  Oh! Yes. I forgot to bleach my hair blonde before I came over. I fidget nervously under his gaze.

  “Shall we?” he asks, nodding toward the steps that lead off the patio and on to the beach. I smile at him as he places a hand on the small of my back and ushers me down the stairway, pulling me quickly aside as Baxter bounds down the steps in excitement.

  Barefoot, we walk side by side along the path where the wet sand meets the dry sand. Colton throws a ball for Baxter while we chat.

  “You know, my sister was surprised to see you at the track the other day.”

  “Really? I couldn’t tell. She seemed so warm and inviting when I met her.”

  Colton smiles ruefully. “I apologize. She’s usually not like that.”

  “Hmm-hmm,” I murmur, my expression telling him I find it hard to believe. “It’s okay though because I thought she was another of the BBB.”

  “BBB?”

  “Your Bevy of Blonde Beauties club.”

  “Oh, come on.” He laughs. “I’m not that bad!”

  “C’mon, Ace, have you Googled yourself lately?” He goes quiet and for the first time I think I see embarrassment wash through his cheeks.

  “No, I don’t Google myself,” he says finally, “but it’s kind of hot knowing that you’re looking at me when you’re not with me.” I turn my head from him and look at the houses on our right, hiding my blush from him.

  We walk a bit further, each lost in our own thoughts until I stop to absently dig up a shell with my big toe that is lying partially in the sand. Colton breaks the silence. “I lied to you the other day.”

  My foot stops digging at his words, curious where he is going with this. I look over at him. “Go on,” I prompt.

  “Well you asked me if I ever fear crashing.” Oh. Okay. Nothing bad. “And I thought about it the other night when I was lying in bed. I mean we all fear crashing, but we try to push it out of our minds or it will affect our driving. I guess it’s a knee-jerk reaction to say that I don’t.”

  “Have you ever had a bad crash?” I envision him in a mangled car, and I don’t like the feelings it evokes.

  “Once or twice where it’s shaken me up,” he admits as he stops and stares out at Baxter biting at the tiny waves in the water. “So yeah, it scares the shit out of me. All it takes is that one time, but the minute I start drivi
ng like I have that fear … the minute I start letting up because of it … is the day that I need to quit.”

  “That makes sense,” I say, although I can’t fathom hurling myself around a track that fast. Can’t comprehend experiencing that horrible disoriented and dizzying tumbling feeling more than once in my lifetime.

  “Besides, I’ve feared much worse things in my life.” He shrugs, still looking out toward the shoreline. “At least on the track, it’s me that puts myself in danger … no one else. My whole team has got my back.”

  And you’re not used to that. Not used to depending on others or needing anything from any body.

  I hear a distant voice off to the right of us shout in a feeble voice. “Hi, dear!”

  Colton looks over and a huge grin fills his face as he sees a figure standing in the second story window of the clapboard house we are passing. “Hi, Bette!” he responds, waving to her as we pass by before grabbing my hand. “That’s Bette Steiner. Her husband was some software tycoon. He died last year so she calls me sometimes if she needs help with anything.” He stoops down to scratch a wiggling Baxter before picking up the ball and throwing it toward the water again.

  So the rebellious bad boy takes care of his elderly neighbors. Isn’t he full of unexpected surprises?

  We walk for a little while longer in comfortable silence, our fingers intertwined, hands swinging playfully. The houses are beautiful and the mixture of sun on my face, sand on my feet, and Colton beside me warms my heart. We follow a bend in the beach where the bluffs start to rise so that the houses are raised a bit rather than sitting right on the sand, and Colton pulls me toward a little alcove. A rather large rock with a flat top sits at the base of a small hill layered in various types of greenery that looks out at the ocean.

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he tells me as he helps me up onto the rock, before hopping up so that he can sit beside me.

  “Oh?”

  “This spot, right here, is my little slice of heaven. My place to go and sit when I need a break from everything.”

  I lean my head on his shoulder, watching Baxter crash into the waves, pleased that he’s shared something with me. “Your happy place,” I murmur, looking up at him. God, he looks gorgeous with his wind-blown hair and yet still a little aloof with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. He smiles at me and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

  He is silent for a moment before speaking. “When I was little, I always had this image in my head, my happy place to use your term, where I’d go to when …”

  With his silence, I can feel his body tense up at some memory. I reach out and put a hand on his knee, drawing lazy lines with my fingernails. I know I shouldn’t, but “the fixer” in me prevails. “When what, Colton?” I can feel him shake his head back and forth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Babe, it’s old news,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, effectively pushing me away before hopping abruptly off the rock. “I’m not the only kid who’s had a rough go of things.” Emotion clouds his voice as he walks a couple of feet away from me. I start to speak when he talks over me. “Don’t bother, Rylee.” He chuckles a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve been picked apart and put back together by the best of them. A waste of my parents’ money if you ask me, seeing as none of them fixed or erased anything.” His next words are barely audible above the sound of the surf, and I’m not sure if he means for me to hear them anyway, but they bring a chill to my skin when he speaks. “I’m damaged goods.”

  I want to reach out to him. To tell him that a person who is damaged goods doesn’t help elderly women with chores and make neglected boys feel special by standing up for them. I want to tell him that he is worthy of love and a real relationship. To tell him that what happened as a child—whatever horrible, unimaginable thing it was— does not define who he is today or where he is going. But I say nothing. Instead, I trace the lines of his body with my eyes, wanting to reach out, but unsure how he’d take it.

  I am so focused on Colton, that I don’t see Baxter bound up in my periphery until he decides to shake his wet fur all over me. I screech out loud at the bite of the cold water hitting my skin. Colton whirls around to see what happened and lifts his head up to the sky laughing at me. A deep, sincere laughter that lights up his face and eases the tension in his shoulders.

  “Baxter!” I shout as Colton walks back to me, removing his sunglasses and hooking them onto his T-shirt’s neckline. I look up to him, a false pout on my lips. “I’m all wet now.”

  Colton presses his thighs between mine so he stands in front of me while I stay seated. The rock’s height brings us to almost eye level with each other. A slow, salacious grin spreads across his lips and he raises an eyebrow at me.

  “All wet, huh?” he asks as he places his hands on my hips and pulls me into him, his hips between the apex of my thighs. “I like it when you’re all wet, Ryles.”

  I swallow loudly, the clouded look in his eyes hinting at passion and desire and so much more. He leans forward, bringing his hands up to my shoulders, his thumbs rubbing back and forth at the hollow dip where my collarbones meet, before brushing a kiss on my lips. I bring my hands up to skim my fingernails up his chest and then around to the back of his neck and play in his hair before tugging his head forward, deepening the kiss. The low groan in the back of his throat excites me and ignites me, sending licks of white-hot pleasure to every nerve. Despite the barrage of sensation his lips evoke on mine, he keeps the kiss slow and soft. Soft sips, slow licks of tongue, slight changes in angle, and soft murmurs of sweet nothings that seep into my soul and wind around my heart. Colton backs away with a shaky sigh after placing a kiss on the tip of my nose.

  Oh my, the man sure knows how to kiss a woman senseless. If I was standing right now, I think I’d need someone to help me because he’s made my knees weak.

  He tilts my head up so that my eyes are forced to look at him. I feel shy under the intensity of his gaze. He just smiles softly at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe something. Baxter nudges at him, jealous of the lack of attention, and Colton laughs, reaching his hand down to pet his head. “Okay, Bax, I don’t mean to neglect you!” He takes the ball out of Baxter’s mouth and turns around to chuck it down the beach.

  I hop down off the rock and watch Baxter take off, kicking up sand as he goes. “He’s fast!” I exclaim as I feel Colton’s hands slide around my waist, pulling me back into him.

  He wraps his arms around me, my back to his front, and he rests his chin on my shoulder. My body relaxes and yet perks up with awareness at the feel and warmth of his body pressed against mine. I close my eyes momentarily, drinking in the uncensored affection that Colton rarely displays.

  “Hmmm, you always smell so good.” He nuzzles my neck, and I can feel the vibration of his words against the sensitive skin beneath my ear where his lips press. “It’s scary how easily I can get lost in you.”

  I still at his words. As much as I want and need to hear these words, my mind chooses this time for insecurity and disbelief to rear its ugly head. Images flash through my head. Page upon page of Google images with Colton and his BBB. He is so smooth. So practiced. How many women has he uttered these words to?

  “What is it, Rylee?” What? How does he know? “I just felt your entire body tense up. What’s going on in that beautiful and intriguing head of yours?”

  I shake my head, feeling silly for my thoughts and yet afraid of the answers. When I try to pull away from him, his arms tighten around me. “It’s nothing, Colton.” I sigh.

  “Tell me.”

  I take a deep breath and steel myself to ask the two simple words swimming around in my head. “Why me?”

  “Why you what?” he asks, confusion in his voice as he releases his hold on me.

  Despite being let go, I take a step away and keep my back to Colton, lacking the courage to ask him to his face. “Why me, Colton? Why am I here?” I can hear him take a deep breath behind me. “Why not one
of the score of women before me? There are so many others that are so much prettier, sexier, skinnier … why am I here and not one of them?”

  “For someone so sure of yourself, your question astonishes me.” His voice is closer than I had expected. We stand in silence and when I do not turn around to face him, he puts his hands on my arms and does it for me.

  “Look at me,” he commands, squeezing my biceps until I comply. He shakes his head at me, disbelief and, I think, a little bit of surprise etched in his features. “First of all, Rylee, you are an extremely beautiful, tremendously sensual woman. And that ass of yours,” he pauses, the guttural sound in the back of his throat is one of pure appreciation, “is something men fantasize about.” He snorts. “I could sit and admire you all day.”

  His eyes lock on mine and I can see the honesty in his eyes. A part of me wants to believe him. Wants to accept that I am enough for him. He moves his hands from my arms to the sides of my ribcage and then slowly runs them down to my hips and back up.

  “As for these, I have to admit, sweetheart, that I’ve dated mostly waifs in my years, but damn, Rylee, your curves are so incredibly sexy. They turn me on like you wouldn’t believe. I get hard just watching you walk in front of me.” He leans into me, his arousal pushing against me, and kisses me softly on my parted lips. He rests his forehead against mine, his fingers playing idly with the tie at my neck. “As to why they are no longer here?” he murmurs, the words fanning over my face before pulling back so that his green eyes burn into mine. “It’s simple. Our time was over.”

  I pull back from him, trying to wrap my head around that last part. “They just up and left?” I try to hide the desperation in my voice, as I suddenly need to know what I’m in for. “I mean, why was it over?”

  He looks at me momentarily before answering. “Some found others that could give them more, some caused too much drama for my liking, and some wanted the white picket fence and two point five kids,” he answers indifferently.