The Driven Series

by Bromberg, K.

  He tells me that he’s been busy with the media side of the upcoming season along with everyday operations at CD Enterprises. In the past week, he’s filmed a commercial for Merit Rum, did a photo shoot for a new marketing campaign, and attended an IRL function.

  We sink into a relaxed rhythm, mutually sharing with each other, and it feels normal in what is otherwise a surreal setting for me. When we finish dinner, he offers a quick tour of the rest of the house, which I have secretly been wishing for. Colton tops off our glasses and grabs my hand. He shows me a state-of-the-art kitchen with warm-hued granite accompanied by top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances.

  “Do you cook, Ace?” I ask, running my fingers over the enormous island as my thoughts flash back to a different kitchen island. When he doesn’t answer, I look up to meet his eyes and I flush, knowing that he is remembering the same thing.

  He shakes his head and smirks. “I can throw a little something together when I need to.”

  “Good to know,” I murmur as he leads me to the next room, a sunken family room that the kitchen overlooks. Deep, chocolate leather couches that look like you could sink into oblivion in are shaped in a semicircle facing a media unit. He takes me into an office oozing of masculinity in rich leather and dark wood. A broad desk takes up a large portion of the space, the walls are lined with bookshelves, and a lone acoustic guitar propped up against the far wall.

  “You play?” I ask, nodding my head toward the guitar.

  “For myself.” His answer mixed with the unexpected softness in his voice has me turning to look at him. He shrugs. “It’s what I do to help me think … to work though stuff in my head.” As he talks, I step back further into the office and run my fingers across bookshelves, looking at the scattered pictures of his family. “I don’t play for others.”

  I nod my head, understanding the need to have something to help when your head is troubled. I continue perusing the bookshelves and one photo causes me to do a double take. A younger Colton looks exhausted, yet jubilant, in his race suit standing in front of his car, arms raised in victory, smile wide with accomplishment, and confetti raining down. The only thing detracting from the picture is a woman wrapped around his torso. She stares up at him, love, adoration, and reverence plastered on her face. I’d know her anywhere.

  “What’s this picture of?” I ask casually as I turn to where he’s relaxed against the doorjamb, watching me.

  “What’s that?” he asks, tilting his head and walking toward me. I lean back and point toward the photograph.

  A smile graces his lips and his eyes light up. “That was my first win in the Indy Lights circuit.” He shakes his head in remembrance. “God, that was a year.”

  “Tell me about it.” He arches an eyebrow at me as if wondering whether I really want to hear about it. “I want to know,” I prompt.

  “It was my second year and I thought I was going to lose my ride if I didn’t pull a win. I had come close so many times and something always prevented it.” He reaches out and takes the picture off of the shelf. “Looking back, I know now that I made a lot of rookie mistakes. But back then I was just frustrated and scared I was going to lose the one thing I really loved—too much ego, too little listening. Some things never change, huh?” He glances up and I smile at him. “Anyway, everything seemed to be going bad this race. We couldn’t get the car adjusted right because the weather was erratic. But with five laps left I made a run at the lead. I passed the leader in a stupid risk that I never should have taken, but it paid off and we won.”

  “First of many victories, right?” I ask as I take the picture from his hand and study it again.

  “Right.” He smirks. “And hopefully more this season.”

  “Who’s this?” I ask, pointing to Tawny, getting to my real question.

  “You didn’t meet Tawny at the track the other day?”

  “Oh.” I play stupid. “Is that who you were speaking with before you tested?”

  “Yeah. I apologize. I thought you’d been introduced.”

  “Uh-uh.” I place the frame back on the shelf and follow him as he steps out of the office. “Did she work for you way back then?”

  “No.” He chuckles, showing me into a den filled with racing memorabilia, a huge flat screen television, and a pool table. “She’s a family friend and we kinda grew up together. We, uh, actually dated a while in college, and it was a long-running joke between our families that we would end up married someday.”

  Whoa! Did I just hear that right? Only a guy would think nothing of making that comment to the woman he is currently doing whatever we are doing together with. Their families think they’ll end up married some day? Fuck! I swallow loudly as he takes me into a guest suite. “Why’d you guys break up?”

  “Good question.” He sighs, giving me an odd look, and I wonder if I am being too pushy. “I don’t know. She was just too familiar. I thought of her like a little sister. It just didn’t work for me.” He shrugs. “When that picture was taken we were still dating. In the end, we remained good friends. She’s one of the few people I can really trust and depend on. When she graduated from college with a degree in marketing and I started CDE, she helped me out. She was good at what she did, so when the company became a reality, I hired her.”

  Well, he might want a platonic relationship but she sure wants more than that. I turn from looking out at the ocean and look at him. He holds his hand out to me, “C’mon, let me show you upstairs.”

  We ascend the wider-than-normal freestanding staircase, and I find myself impressed with the lived-in feeling of his stone fortress. I tell him I assumed it was going to be cold and uninviting but it’s the exact opposite. He tells me he opted for the stone exterior to limit the maintenance required from being exposed to the harsh beach conditions.

  When we reach the top of the stairs, we come to an open room that is the patio I saw from the front of the house. “I think I found heaven,” I murmur as I take in the indoor/outdoor space. Lights wrap around an overhead trellis covered in a growing vine, twinkling in the darkening sky. Four chaise lounges I could get lost in are arranged around the space.

  Colton laughs at me as he tugs my arm. “We can enjoy that space later,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

  “Man with a one-track mind,” I tease, but my words soon falter when he brings me into his bedroom. “Wow.” I breathe.

  “Now this is my favorite place in the house,” he says, and I can see why. An oversized bed is facing the ocean. The room is covered in soft browns and blues and greens. A love seat sits on an angled wall and a coffee table is in front of it, where magazines and books are thrown. A large dog bed sits in another corner beneath a fireplace with chewed toys and a rumpled, blue blanket. The focal point of the bedroom is a wall of windows, and I can feel the breeze blowing in off the ocean.

  I watch the distant lights of boats making their way home. I can see the silhouettes of surfers waiting to catch one last set before paddling in. “Your place really is magnificent.”

  Colton takes me by surprise when I feel his arms slide around my waist and pull me into him, his front to my back, and nuzzles his nose into my neck. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he lays a trail of feather-light kisses down to my shoulder and back up.

  My body shudders and a soft sigh escapes from my lips. His hand splays over my stomach and presses me against him, my curves mold to his firm lines. His mouth is at my ear again, kissing that sensitive spot just underneath.

  “Can I tell you how much I enjoy having you here?” he whispers, licks of his breath tickling my ear.

  I sigh into him, leaning my head back to rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for tonight, Colton.”

  He chuckles. “I sure hope you’re not implying it’s over yet, because I’m just getting started.” His hands run up and down the side of my torso, fingertips skimming the edges of my breasts. Tiny hints at what’s to come. I arch against him, my body humming with desire, my heart reveling in his tenderness.
>
  I tilt my head up and he captures my mouth with his. His tongue delves past my lips and licks at mine. Teasing. Entwining. Tasting. Worshipping. I turn into him, needing more to feed my insatiable craving. He backs me up against the wall of glass. His forearms press against it, framing my head while his body pushes into mine.

  A strangled sigh escapes him as I nip at his lower lip and run a tongue down the line of his unshaven jaw. I reach his ear and tug on his ear lobe with my teeth.

  “No.” I breathe into his ear. “The night is most definitely not over, Ace.” I make my way down the line of his throat and back up to lay a kiss at the pulse in his throat. “It’s just beginning.”

  “Rylee,” he moans, a sound of pure appreciation.

  I feel empowered by his unbidden reaction. I want to show him how he makes me feel. Tell him with actions since I am unable to with words. I dip my tongue in the indent of his collarbone, his coarse hair tickling my lips, his scent enveloping me, and then trail a row of soft kisses back up to his other ear. “I want to taste you, Colton.”

  I hear him suck in a breath, and suddenly his hands are on the sides of my cheeks, cupping them. He pulls my face back from his, his thumbs rubbing over my swollen lips. His eyes search mine, for what I don’t know, but the depth of emotion that I see is all I need. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, trapped in our hazy state of desire.

  Our silent interlude lasts until he groans, “God, yes, Rylee,” before crushing his mouth to mine.

  His kiss is a bombardment of what I see in his eyes: greed, passion, blazing need, and an unexpected urgency. I have no chance to offer anything for Colton just takes, and I submit willingly to his unspoken commands. I hand myself over to him, mind, body, heart, and soul.

  I ease back from the kiss, a salacious look in my eyes that stops Colton from pulling me back to him. Our chests heave with anticipation. I bite my lower lip as my mouth spreads into a wicked grin. My thoughts turn to how I want to run my tongue down his body and feel him shudder in response to my touch.

  I reach out, surprised by my reaction. Max’s passive, shy girl who thought having sex with the lights on was adventurous is no more. Colton makes me need things I never knew I wanted. He makes me feel sexy. Desirable. Wanted.

  I bunch the hem of Colton’s shirt up until my hands graze his abdomen. I run a fingernail across his stomach just above the waistline of his jeans, and I smirk as his lips part and eyes darken with need from just my touch.

  I start to pull his shirt up and off of him. “Let me,” he rasps as he reaches up and grabs the back of the neck of his shirt and pulls it off in one fell swoop, as only a man who has no worries of messing up hair or make-up can.

  “Just how I like you,” I murmur, taking in his sculpted shoulders and lean torso all the way down to the trail of hair in the middle of the sexy V of muscle that disappears beneath his waistband.

  “My body is yours to take advantage of.” He breathes with a sexy smirk, hinting at the dirty things he wants me to do to him. He holds his hands out to his sides, offering himself up to me.

  I reach out and cup his neck, bringing his face to mine. I press my lips to his and dart my tongue in his mouth, pulling back every time he tries to control the kiss. “I. Want. You,” I whisper.

  I skim my fingers down the plains of his torso, nails scratching softly so his body twitches in reaction. My mouth follows the same path but at a much more leisurely pace. Colton lets his head fall back and groans when I stop to lick the flat disks of his nipples. His hands trail down my arms, up and over my shoulders, and fiddle with the ties at the back of my neck.

  “Uh, uh, uh,” I chastise. I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes as I lace openmouthed kisses down the skin-gloved muscles of his abdomen. “My turn, Colton.”

  I step back from him, never breaking eye contact, raise my hands to the back of my neck, and slowly untie my dress. “It’s a little hot in here, don’t you think, Ace?” I toy with him as I take in a fortifying breath and let the material slowly slide down the curves of my body. I see the fire leap into Colton’s eyes as he takes in what’s underneath. I’ve worn my Agent Provocateur strapless bra and panty set in a rich, dark purple lace that hides little but highlights my figure perfectly.

  “Sweet Jesus, woman! The sight of you is enough to drive a sane man crazy,” he drawls as his eyes drag their way back up and down my body.

  He rubs his thumb over his other fingers as if they are itching to touch me. I step toward him again, my body hyperaware of everything around us and between us. I reach out and lay my palms on his chest, his body quivering in anticipation.

  I pull them down and undo the top two buttons of his jeans, relieving some of the tension. My hands slide around the inside of his jeans and boxer briefs and grasp the solid muscles of his very fine ass. I skim my fingers back up and over his lower back while I trace my tongue down the trickle of hair below his belly button. I look up at him as I sink to my knees and very slowly undo the last three buttons of his jeans.

  He stares at me beneath eyelids heavy with desire, his lips parted, and need palpable. I lower his jeans and boxer briefs, his iron length springing free. I run my fingers down the dark smattering of hair and grip the base of his shaft. I lean forward and Colton sucks in an audible breath as I circle my tongue lightly around the bell-shaped tip and then flutter it slowly down to the root and back up. My hand moves slowly up and down the veined length while my other hand comes up to cup his balls beneath, gently grazing them with my fingernails.

  I look up at Colton and I’m swallowed up by the look in his eyes as he watches me. His jaw flexes in expectancy as my fingers tease him, and when I take him very slowly into my mouth, he winces in pleasure before throwing his head back and hissing “Fuccckkk, Ryleeee!”

  I tease him gently at first, only taking the tip of him into the warmth of my mouth, rubbing my tongue with pressure on the sensitive underside just beneath the rim of his crest. I twist my hand around his shaft, stimulating him with friction and wet heat.

  When I’ve tormented him enough and can feel the tension in his thighs from anticipation, I sheath my teeth with my lips and take him all the way in until I can feel him hit the back of my throat. The guttural groan that comes from Colton’s lips fills the room as the musky taste of his arousal and evidence of his desire for me churns an exquisite ache that invades the depths of my very core.

  I bob my head down his length again, my throat convulsing when I reach maximum depth, and slowly press my tongue on the underside as I pull it back out. I feel Colton’s fingers tangle into my hair as the blissful need for release starts building within him. The harsh exhale of words and beseeching calls of my name urge me to move faster. Quicker. I take him deeper and stroke him harder. He suddenly swells and I can taste him.

  “Rylee,” he grates out between clenched teeth, “I’m gonna come, baby. I want to be buried in you when I do.”

  With his length still hard in my mouth, I look up at him to see his face pulled tight with pleasure. A man on the razor thin edge of losing control. He convulses as I hollow my cheeks and pull tightly on him one last time.

  My mind doesn’t have enough time to register Colton hauling me to my feet and crushing his mouth to mine with near violent desire. Spirals of sensation whirl through me as he urges my back up against the windowed wall. The anticipation of what’s to come causes the ache in my groin to intensify.

  Raw need ricochets through my body and straight to my core when his calloused fingers find their way beneath my dampened panties. He parts me gently and finds my clit waiting and throbbing for his attention. I grow dizzy wanting more as his fingers work their magic, stimulating my nerve endings. His mouth plunders mine, filling me with his addictive taste.

  “I want you in me, Colton,” I pant out when I break from our kiss. He lifts me and pulls my legs around his hips. The delicate strap of fabric holding the two triangles of my lace panties together snaps as Colton rips them from m
e.

  I’m no longer in control. The notion sends an unexpected thrill through me but the thought is short lived as Colton spans his hands across my sides and lifts me up, pressing me against the wall for leverage. He lowers me down while his hips thrust up, burying into me. I cry out, overcome by the feeling of fullness as he stills so I can adjust to him.

  “Christ, Rylee,” he gasps brokenly, his face buried in my throat. The gentle draw of his mouth on my skin causes me to dig my fingers into his solid shoulders and slowly flex my hips into him. “Oh, sweetheart,” he pants as he rocks his hips out and then strokes back into my quivering softness.

  His body slides against mine, his hands trapped between the glass and my hips, pressing me into him and pushing himself as deeply as possible. I draw a shuttered breath through parted lips as my body softens and heats up. “Colton,” I mewl as I’m pushed toward the precipice. Filling me until I can hold no more. Connecting us in every way possible. Blood pounds in my ears and sensation rockets through my body as we find each other’s rhythm.

  “Hold on, Ry. Not yet!” he commands as he quickens his tempo and brings me closer to the brink. Our lungs pant in short, sharp breaths, hands grip sweat-slickened flesh, and mouths claim any part of the other we can taste.

  I can feel my body quickening at the same time Colton stiffens inside me. “Colton,” I warn, my body tensing around him.

  “Yes, baby, yes,” he shouts at the same time I’m unable to deny myself another single second. My thighs turn to steel as I crash over the edge, lost in the explosion. The intense contraction grabs hold of Colton and drags him over with me. A litany of pleasure-induced words falls from his lips, his face buried in the curve of my shoulder as his body shudders with his release. We stay like this, connected as one and locked around each other momentarily, until we slowly slide down the wall to the floor. We sit entwined, my face is nuzzled against his throat, and his arms encircle me.