by K. Bromberg
Zander looks over to me and smiles widely. “Okay, then go get in the van!” I tell him. He looks back toward Colton and nods his head once before hopping off and running toward the front door.
Colton stays seated for a moment, and we just stare at each other. A silent exchange that tells him I heard everything and that he’s glad I did. That exchange—watching him with Zander—has the protective wall around my heart fracturing into a million pieces and love seeping from the cracks. I shake my head to clear it of all of the things I want to say to him in this moment and hold my hand out to him instead.
He rises slowly and gives a half smile. “C’mon.” He takes my hand and tugs it. “Do you think you can beat me in a race?”
“I know I can beat the pants off of you,” I reply suggestively.
He chuckles at my comment. “As much as I like your line of thinking, Ry, we’re gonna be surrounded by a crowd of people.”
I release his hand and wrap my arm around his torso, wanting the feel of his body against mine. It’s me who needs to feel close to him now. He laughs at my sudden assault of him. “I thought being dirty in a crowd turned you on,” I whisper against his ear.
“Sweet Jesus, woman.” He groans. “You know what to say to get me hard.”
I place an open mouth kiss at the spot just beneath his jaw. “I know. Too bad we’re going to be surrounded by seven little boys who hang on your every word or I’d let you scratch this itch I seem to have.”
“God, you’re such a cock tease,” he laughs as we walk out of the front door of the house. He releases me so I can lock the front door, a look of desire clouding his eyes as he watches me.
“You think so?” I murmur coyly, batting my eyelashes at him as he nods. “Maybe I’ll have to show you just how good of a cock tease I am,” I quip as I sashay down the walkway in front of him, swinging my hips back and forth. I know that sex is off of the agenda for the evening because he has to leave right after karting with the kids, and Saturday night will be the next time I get to see him.
I turn back to face him, taking a step backwards as I watch him. “Too bad you shaved,” I say, fighting the smirk I want to give him. “I kinda liked the roughness of it between my thighs.” I raise my eyebrows as he sucks in a breath.
This could be fun. A buildup of anticipation. I can spend the week taunting him and ramp up the expectation so that by Saturday night we can’t keep our hands off of each other. As if we need help with that anyway.
“C’mon, Rylee! You have to beat him. You’re our last hope!” Shane yells across the railing at me as I stand beside my kart waiting for my rematch.
The past two hours have been a blast. From the racing to the boys’ laughter to the constant banter between Colton and me, I couldn’t have thought of a better way for the boys to let off steam and reconnect after the chaos of Zander’s nightmare last night.
After an hour of free-for-all racing, the boys begged to race one on one against Colton. He willingly obliged and in turn set up my current situation. Colton beat all of the boys, everyone that went up against him, except for me. I accused him of letting me win, which had him instantly calling for a rematch. The second race went in his favor. Now we’re in the tiebreaker.
“Best out of three, Thomas. Whoever wins next gets bragging rights,” he calls over to me, amusement in his eyes and challenge in his smile. God, I love him. Especially when he has this look about him: confident, carefree, and downright sexy.
“You’re all talk, Donavan. Your win was a total fluke.” The arrogant smile he flashes goads me further. “Big, bad professional racer like you has to maintain your dignity, you know. Can’t have rookies like me showing you up! Especially a woman.”
“Oh baby, you know me, I’ll let a woman do whatever she wants to me.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow suggestively.
I laugh out loud as I walk the ten feet between us. I look back over my shoulder at the boys who are egging me on and wink at them to show I’m on their side. As I approach, Colton turns to face me, his hand holding his helmet against his hip as if it’s the most natural stance in the world for him, and the fingers of his other hand rubbing together as if he is itching to reach out and touch me.
Good, it’s working. My subtle brushes against him. My little suggestive comments whispered to him here and there. My slow perusal of his body so he notices. Despite having to do them all under the detecting eyes of our audience, I’m glad to know that none of them have gone unnoticed. I can see it in his eyes and the pulsing muscle in his jaw as I approach him.
“You worried you’re going to lose, Ace?” I smirk. My back is toward our audience so I bend over and tie my shoe, purposefully putting my cleavage on display. When I look up, Colton’s pupils have darkened and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
“I know what you’re doing, Rylee,” he murmurs softly from beneath his smirk, “and as much as your little antics have had me wanting to push you up against that wall over there and take you hard and fast more than once since we’ve been here—regardless of who’s watching—it’s not going to work.” He flashes his megawatt smile at me. “I’m still gonna beat that fine ass of yours to the finish line.”
“Well as much as I could use a good spanking...” I breathe out, looking up at him from beneath my lashes and catch his sharp intake of air at my words “...I was just coming over here to see if you needed any help getting your motor revved up.” I smile innocently at him, although my body language says anything but.
I watch his throat constrict as he swallows, his lips twisting as he tries to prevent himself from smiling. “Oh, my motor’s running just fine, sweetheart,” he teases as his eyes travel the length of my body again. “Revved and raring to go. Do you need any help getting yours tuned and ready to race?”
I bite my bottom lip as I stare at him and angle my head to the side. “Well I seem to be running a little tight in the ass end. Nothing a quick lube job wouldn’t fix,” I toss over my shoulder as I walk back to my car, wishing I could see the reaction on his face.
The boys keep up their shouting and heckling as we put our helmets on and get strapped in our carts. I glance over at Colton and nod my head as I rev my gas pedal. And then we are off, racing side by side through the twists and turns of the track. My competitive nature surfaces as Colton noses past me. I can’t hear the boys cheering me on over the sound of the motors, but I catch passing glimpses of their arms waving frantically in my periphery. We come to the next turn and I edge the nose of my cart in first, taking the corner at full speed and powering past him. We race down the straightaway toward the finish line, edging back and forth. When we finally cross it, I’m pretty sure that I won by the hysterics from the boys and Jackson on the sidelines.
I screech my kart to a stop and jump out, unable to suppress the wide grin on my face. I pull off my helmet at the same time Colton does and when I turn to him, I swear his grin is as wide as mine. I do a silly, little victory dance around him to amuse the boys who are doing their own celebrating. He just shakes his head, laughing at me with a genuine, carefree smile on his face.
“Ha!” I smirk at him. “How do you like them apples?” I taunt as I follow him to the little office at the edge of the track and out of the spectators’ view. The minute we’re out of the boys’ line of sight, Colton spins me around and has me pinned against the wall. His long, lean body presses against every curve of mine as if we fit together like yin and yang.
“Do you have any fucking clue how turned on I am, Rylee?” He growls at me. “How much I want to take what you’ve been flaunting in front of me all afternoon?”
It takes every ounce of my concentration to appear unaffected by him. Every ounce. I arch my eyebrows at him in nonchalance. “Well I have a feeling that your dick pressing into me is an indication.”
“God, I want to fuck that smirk off your face right now.”
His words alone incite my core muscles to clench at the mere thought. I never realized that the act of seducing
can provoke equal parts of desire in both parties.
My nipples harden at the feeling of his firm chest pressed against them. His breath feathers over my face and his eyes remain locked on mine. He tilts his head forward and meets my lips, his tongue licking between them, and tangling with mine. There is a quiet passion to his kiss, and I groan as he releases me, leaving me wanting more.
“I couldn’t agree more, Ryles, but I gotta get going…and I have a feeling your fan club is going to come barging through that door any moment.” He takes my helmet from my hand and places it on the table at the same time the door opens up and the boys come barreling through. Colton looks over at me and arches his eyebrows as if to say I told you so.
I bite back a careless giggle when I see all of the boys carrying bundles of cotton candy. My thoughts revert to my more than memorable experience with the confection and Colton. He groans, his own little acknowledgement, causing my lips to twitch with a devious little smirk.
“One second, guys!” I yell above their raucous noise as I take a pinch from Ricky’s funnel. I step back toward Colton and deliberately run my tongue over my lips before placing the fluff of sweetness on my tongue. I close my eyes and play up savoring its taste. When I open them back up, Colton’s eyes have darkened and his jaw is set with frustration and desire—just the response I was looking for.
I lean close to his ear, purposefully withholding any touch of my body against his, my voice a seductive whisper for his ears only. “Hey, Ace?” He looks over and arches a brow at me. “I’m not wearing any panties.” I smirk. He audibly sucks in a breath in acknowledgement before I sway my hips a little more than normal as I walk away from him.
What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him, I think as I picture the pair of white cotton underwear I’m wearing beneath my Levis.
COLTON GLANCES OVER AT Me as he listens to his publicist give him the order of events for the evening. We’re gliding through Los Angeles in a limo headed toward a charity gala. This is the first of several events in the coming weeks where Colton and I will make the rounds, formally promoting our companies’ joint venture, and hopefully enlist some participants for the car’s lap sponsorship program.
I stare at him unabashedly as I hum to Hero/Heroine floating gently through the background from the speakers. I take in everything about him that has become so familiar, so addictive, so everything to me in such a short period of time. He’s so striking in the formal tuxedo—the clothing that he’s already confessed to detesting several times—and I can’t stop thinking what a lucky girl I am. His face is clean-shaven again, and yet even without the usual shadow of hair, he still exudes the aura of careless bad boy.
It’s just something that oozes off of him regardless of what he’s wearing. He’s almost sexier with his look tonight because I know that beneath his sophisticated exterior lies a reckless rebel at heart.
Colton glances over me again, feeling the scrutiny of my stare, and a salacious smirk spreads on his lips. His eyes meet mine and I know he is aching just as bad as I am to feel our bare skin connect. The remainder of our week since the go-kart track has been filled with provocatively taunting emails and texts explaining in depth what we want to do to one another once this evening is over. My God, with words alone the man can make a woman need, crave, desire—and most likely beg if it takes too long—like I’ve never known possible. But I’m pretty confident that the unfulfilled ache goes both ways though, from the hissing of his breath when I answered the front door in my sexy, red dress.
“Okay, so we’ll be there in about five minutes. I’ll jump out before your call time and get into place while the car circles around the block,” Chase says, looking at both of us above her black-rimmed glasses. I hold a hand to my stomach at the thought of being photographed on the red carpet in front of all of those people. Yikes! I thought this was a little function. I didn’t realize it was a full-blown Hollywood filled gala with questioning press. The publicity will be good for the charity, but can’t I just sneak in the back door and avoid the spotlight?
Obviously that will never be the option if I’m with Colton.
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Don’t be nervous.” He winks at me. “I’ve got you covered.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I smirk at him, our eyes doing the talking for us. I swear I can see the electricity crackle in the air as sexual tension fills the limo. Chase busies herself by keeping her head down, her cheeks staining red at our silent yet obvious exchange.
“Well, here’s my stop,” she mumbles, gathering her papers as Colton rubs the back of my hand with his thumb.
“Thanks, Chase. We’ll see you in a few minutes,” he tells her, never taking his eyes off of mine.
The minute the limo door shuts, Colton shifts and has me pressed against the backseat. His hand tangles in my loose curls, and I arch my chest off the back of the seat, aching to feel the heat of his body against mine, but he stops inches from my face. My lips part and my breath quickens as I look into his eyes. The quiet intensity held within that flash of green undoes me.
Strips me.
Fuels me.
“Do you have any idea how many times this week I’ve wanted to do this to you?” He ever so slowly lowers his lips to mine, just a whisper of a touch that has me groaning with a teeming desperation.
“Colton,” I plead as his lips withdraw a fraction, leaving my body focused solely on the slow slide of his hand up my ribcage to just below the underside of my breast before it makes the slow descent back down. My breath exhales in a shuddered sigh that has his lips turning up and eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Is there something you want?” he whispers against my lips as he pulls my hair gently back so my neck is exposed. His tongue glides a slow trail down the column, clearly drawing out the anticipation that we’ve built over the past couple of days, but I’m so addled with need, I just want him inside of me. Now. To fill the void aching for him.
“Yes. I. Need. You. In. Me. Colton. Now,” my splintered voice pants as his tongue licks at my proffered cleavage.
His laugh is low and throaty, the tenor of it filling my ears, stoking my fire of need until his tongue leaves my skin. I open my eyes, looking at him from beneath eyelids weighted with desire to find his gaze trained on my face. “You didn’t think I’d let you off—or rather let you get off—that easy did you?” He smirks and I can see the mirth dancing in his eyes. Oh shit! My body already taut with need tenses further. “You’ve given me blue balls all week, and I think turnabout’s fair play.” He smirks. “To use your term.”
As much as I want to take pride in the fact he’s confessed that I’ve successfully driven him crazy, the knowledge that my itch is not going to be scratched any time soon causes me to groan in frustration. Colton’s smile only widens at the sound, and the mischief in his eyes has my own narrowing at him in turn.
“You’ve been killing me softly all week, Rylee, with your little suggestions…little teases…and so it’s time to show you exactly how it feels.”
Oh fucking hell! Seriously? What does he have in mind here? “I do know how it feels,” I try to emphasize but only succeed in sounding breathy. Desperate. “Your responses have done the same to me.”
He kisses my neck softly, working his way to my pleasure point just below my ear lobe. His whisper of a touch makes me slick with arousal. “No. I don’t think so, Rylee,” he murmurs, his lips moving to my ear. “Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on a meeting, trying to hide my hard-on because I can’t get your texts out of my head? What an idiot I look like when I draw a blank at a question about wing adjustments to the car because all I can think about is savoring the sweet taste of your pussy again?” He brings a hand up and lays his palm on the base of my neck, holding my head still, so that I have no option but to meet the challenge in his eyes. “Did it feel the same for you, Rylee?”
I bite my bottom lip and shake my head no, our eyes, violet to green, in a silent exchange. “Say it.�
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“No.” I take in a shaky breath, completely under his spell. Captivated. Mesmerized.
“Then tonight I’ll show you,” he tells me, sinking to his knees on the floor of the limo as he moves between my legs and captures my mouth again. His tongue licks in and slowly moves with mine as his hand slides up the outside of my thigh, pushing my dress up as he goes. “Sweet Jesus.” He exhales as his fingers skim over the garter belts I wore specifically with seducing him in mind. For some reason though, I seem to think the tables have turned now.
I’m the one being seduced.
“Now I’m going to think about undressing you all night until you’re standing in your heels and these and nothing else,” he says, pulling on a garter strap so it snaps back against my thigh. The slight sting mainlines a jolt straight to my already quivering sex.
“I think you’re a little overdressed.” He smirks, the devilish look back on his face. I look at him with trepidation, all my focus on the carnal look in his eyes, until I feel his fingers dancing over the dampened silk of my panties. The slight fabric barrier mutes his touch, and I instinctively lift my hips up, begging for more.
“Colton,” I gasp.
“And I’m a little underdressed,” he murmurs, a teasing quality to his voice. I have a quick second to wonder what the hell he means by his comment, but then the limo’s cool air bathes my heated flesh as he pulls my panties to the side and the question falls from my mind. I keep my eyes on him, body humming with uncontrollable need as he ever-so-slowly trails one finger up and then down my slowly swelling folds. And I am gone—my thoughts lost to the dance of fingertips, the searing heat of desire, and the unyielding ache of need.
He leans in and teases me with a soft, tantalizing kiss—fucking my mouth with reverence—that pulls all the way from my toes and back up. He’s assaulting all my senses, hindering all coherent thoughts, manipulating my body with a focused purpose.
I cry out and into his waiting lips as he tucks three fingers into me, circling them around so that they rub all of my sensitive walls. I throw my head back without shame and emit a strangled moan, his fingers invading the depths of my sex and manipulating me in the way I so desperately need. I angle my hips up, straining to be closer, his fingers to delve deeper, needing this release brought on by him. The connection.
