For You (The 'Burg Series) (32 page)

Read For You (The 'Burg Series) Online

Authors: Kristen Ashley

BOOK: For You (The 'Burg Series)
13.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“What’s that?”

“You can call me Colt but, when I’m fuckin’ you, you call me Alec.”

He heard and felt her draw in breath. She held it a long time. Then she let it go and her body relaxed against his.

“In fact, any time you’re in this bed, baby, you can call me Alec. I’m fuckin’ you or not.”

She settled deeper into him, murmuring, “Don’t be an asshole…” she paused then finished, “Alec.”

He laughed and her arm tightened around his stomach.

“Go to sleep, baby,” he urged.

“Okay.”

He listened to her breathe and he felt Wilson, who had wisely kept away for the last twenty minutes, jumped on the bed and settled. Colt felt the cat’s weight against his foot, the one that Feb’s feet were tangled with.

Wilson started purring.

February, surprisingly for an insomniac, became a dead weight against his side within minutes.

And Colt thought it had been a fuckuva long time, waiting for Feb to let him back in but he decided it was well worth the wait because being in Feb was fucking spectacular.

 

 

Chapter Seven

Amy

 

I woke up in the same position I fell asleep, Colt’s hand though, was no longer on my ass but resting heavy on my hip. Wilson was at our feet.

I knew that day it would be time to share. Not with Colt, with Jessie, Meems or Delilah.

Because I fucked up royally last night.

Last night, lying in Colt’s bed, the night we shared replaying in my head, the night before, the phone calls that day, the kisses, the fact that this was all coming from Colt – just thinking about all of it turned me on. So much, I considered taking care of myself.

Before I could, his phone rang and I heard the murmur of his voice and I knew, I just knew, it was about me. It was about Colt taking care of me, Colt keeping me safe, Colt sleeping three hours and taking phone calls late in an all out effort to end my nightmare.

So I waited for the call to end and I knew what I was going to do. I didn’t come to the decision. I just knew I was going to do it. I didn’t think about it because thinking about it would stop me from doing it and I didn’t want anything to stop me.

It wasn’t smart. It was stupid but I wanted it and I had the feeling Colt wanted it, I was going to give it to him and I’d worry about it later.

The same old stupid February.

So I did it.

Now there I was and it was all on the line, with family, with friends, with Colt.

I should have waited to see how it played out, what would happen after all of this shit was over.

But I didn’t.

Same old stupid February.

I moved carefully, rolling away from him, deciding I needed yoga or tequila. Seeing as it was morning, I’d have to pick yoga though I would have preferred tequila.

My roll placed my back to him. I was nowhere near the other side of the bed when he caught me with an arm around my waist.

“Where you goin’?” His voice was gruff with sleep and it was at my ear because he’d pulled me back into his body.

“Feed Wilson,” I told him.

His other arm slid under me. “Wilson can wait.”

“Wilson doesn’t like –”

I stopped speaking because his hands moved, one down my belly to between my legs, one up to cup my breast. Then his finger and thumb closed on my nipple and at the feel of it, so magnificent, I automatically pressed my ass into his groin and arched my back to push my breast into his hand.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered in my ear and kissed my neck and his words accompanied by his fingers worked sheer magic.

It didn’t take long before I was riding his hand, my neck twisted, my face pressed in the pillows to stifle my moans.

“Give me your mouth, Feb,” Colt demanded and I didn’t make him wait. Immediately, my neck twisted the other way.

He pushed up and kissed me and it was better than any kiss before which was saying something. Better than any kiss from him, better than any kiss I’d ever had. It was the best.

His mouth broke from mine as my hips started jerking.

“That’s it, take yourself there,” he encouraged against my mouth.

“Alec.”

“That’s it baby.”

My hips reared, I was close and getting desperate.

“Alec.” His name sounded like a plea.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes,” I whispered. I could feel it, hard, pressing against my ass and I knew what it felt like driving in deep and I wanted it more than breath.

“Tilt your ass, honey.”

I did as I was told, he gave me what I wanted and slid inside, his hand between my legs still working me, his other hand slid up, to my jaw, keeping my neck twisted. He was thrusting, I was gasping, closer, reaching for it.

Colt’s gravelly words gave it to me. “Come around my cock, Feb.”

Again, I did as I was told.

It had never been better. He was the best I ever had.

And last night was even better, coming twice, long, hard, in quick succession, unheard of, unbelievable, brilliant.

This time, more of the same, nothing like it. Soul shattering.

And I knew it wasn’t just because it was great, I knew it was because it was Colt.

I came down and kept my ass offered to him as he continued thrusting, my hand moving down his arm, going between my legs, covering his, holding our hands together, feeling him driving in and out of me.

“You feel beautiful,” I whispered and it was the truth.

“Baby,” he growled.

My hand tightened on his. “Nothing like it, Alec, nothing better than you.”

He buried himself deep and groaned into my hair and I squeezed his hand even tighter.

He settled into my back, his hips moving gently like last night, gliding out an inch then coming back in, keeping the connection while giving me a sweet, intimate caress.

I liked it, too much. I was right, he felt beautiful.

I was so stupid.

“Next time,” Colt said into the back of my hair, sounding sated yet weirdly disgruntled, “I’m gonna fuck you so I can see you when you come.”

I wanted to be the smart February who declared there’d be no next time but instead I was the stupid February who knew there would definitely be a next time, no matter what was at stake even if what was at stake was everything.

“Babe, I need to feed Wilson,” I whispered though Wilson was now gone and I couldn’t hear him meowing which was strange.

Colt’s arms grew tight before they grew lax.

“I’m gonna sleep in,” he moved and I knew it was to bend when he kissed my shoulder blade, “wake me in an hour?”

It was a request so I said, “Sure.”

He slid out of me, his arms giving me another squeeze as he did and when he let go I scooted off the bed.

I made the mistake of turning to look at him. Colt was up on a forearm, just a few inches, and his eyes were drifting over my body. I didn’t know what he saw. I’d never been particularly modest, I didn’t go around flaunting it but with a lover I also didn’t hide it.
 

With Colt, it was different. I wanted him to see what he wanted to see. I wasn’t sixteen anymore, not even twenty, hell, not even thirty. He wasn’t either but his body was fantastic, better than back then, bulkier, stronger. I wanted him to think the same thing and I couldn’t be certain he did.

I rushed to my shirt and yanked it on. Then I did the same with my panties and I started to the door.

“Baby, come here,” Colt called and I made another mistake and turned again.

He was fully up on a forearm, his hair messy, his face gentle.

I’d touched his hair last night and I’d forgotten how it felt, thick and soft, long enough for me to trail my fingers through it. I loved Colt’s hair, always did.

Looking in his gentle eyes, feeling the specter of his hair sliding along my fingers, still feeling him inside me, feeling sweetly bruised between my legs and liking it, all of it, made my feet take me to him.

I planted a knee in the bed, leaning forward. I did this all without thinking about it. His soft call, his look, the memory of what we’d shared, it was like an invisible lasso, roping me in.

He reached out, his hand wrapped around the back of my head and he brought me down to kiss me, a sweet touch of tongues before his mouth disengaged and he moved back an inch.

“I’ll be in the mood for more than toast when I get up,” he told me.

“Gotcha,” I replied, deciding that, if he wanted more than toast, he would get it. I’d make him a breakfast smorgasbord. I’d comb the woods for truffles on my hands and knees, nose to the forest floor if that’s what he wanted.

He grinned and let me go.

And I fled the room but tried to do it looking like I wasn’t.

* * * * *

An hour later I was back in the room.

It wasn’t the first time I came back.

After feeding a surprisingly quiet Wilson (who seemed to be giving a mind to my parents, who were to my horror for some reason sleeping on the pull out couch in the living room, Dad snoring softly), I’d gone back to the room.

Colt had been asleep on his stomach, one knee lifted, one arm thrown out. He looked good in his sleep but he looked good all the time so I shouldn’t have been surprised. But there was something about him sleeping, not like it was when we were younger and I used to wake sometimes and watch him sleep for awhile and remind myself of all the reasons I loved him before I went back into a doze. Now it seemed strange to see his energy shut down like it’d been switched off, because it was so much a part of him. Colt, who I’d known since he was five, was suddenly all new to me.

I’d taken my yoga clothes into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and changed then quietly left to make coffee, scan the contents of the fridge for ideas for Colt’s breakfast smorgasbord and try to be quiet while doing breakfast prep work so as not to awaken my loved ones in the house, all of whom were there to keep me together, keep me safe, keep me strong.

But now it was time to wake Colt and I had no idea how to do it.

I sat on the bed and leaned deep, he was far away but I wanted to be at his front not his back so I could see him as he woke. I reached out a hand and slid my fingertips around his ear, something I’d do when he was agitated years ago. Pissed at something he heard his Mom did. Anxious and trying not to show it when his Dad killed those kids while drunk driving and got arrested, put on trial and thrown in prison. It always worked, my touch and back then when I did it, it made me feel like I had magical powers.

His eyes opened at my touch and he half rolled.

“Sorry, babe, it’s been an hour,” I whispered and gave him a smile. “I’ll make breakfast.”

I pulled away and started to exit the bed when his arm came around my waist and I was flying back, surprised my body was out of control. My legs went flying in the air, my back hit his chest, my ass collided with his hip and then I slid as he twisted me around. My back landed on the bed and Colt’s torso leaned into mine, my thighs over his hips, his mouth went to my neck and he kissed me there.

“Colt –”

His hand slid down my side and he lifted his head so his eyes could watch it move. “What’s this?”

I looked down wondering if I spilled coffee on my top, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

“What?”

“What you’re wearing.”

I looked back at his face. “Yoga outfit.”

His eyes moved to mine. “I like it.”

“Colt –”

“It’s tight,” he noted, his hand moving along the material at my ribs.

“Colt –”

His hand moved up and I drew in breath when he palmed my breast and his fingertips slid across the top edge of my yoga camisole. “Cleavage.”

Other books

Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum
Under the Never Sky by Veronica Rossi
Killer Kisses by Sharon Buchbinder
A Touch of Autumn by Hunter, Evie
Saving Each Other (BWWM Romance) by Tyra Brown, Interracial Love
Anne Barbour by A Dedicated Scoundrel
Blasphemy by Sherman Alexie