Taken By Him (Obsessed With Him, Book Four) (6 page)

BOOK: Taken By Him (Obsessed With Him, Book Four)
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“You.
 
Are.
 
So. Fucking.
 
Tight,” Colt groaned as he pumped into
me, faster and faster.

I could feel that same feeling coming over me,
the same unstoppable feeling I’d had when he was kissing me on my pussy, and
when he lowered his mouth to my nipple, sucking my tit into his mouth with an
audible suckling sound, I felt my body get pushed over the edge.

I came, the sensation indescribable, the
pleasure so exhilarating and unbelievable that I almost felt as if I couldn’t
be happening to me.
 

“Look at me,” Colt groaned.
 
“Let me see you when you come.”

I moved my eyes to his, and just when I thought
the waves of pleasure were done rolling through me, they started again,
twisting through my body, radiating from my core, taking over my body,
shattering me into a million pieces.

“Shit,” Colt said.
 
“I’m going to come inside you,
baby.
 
You’re so fucking tight.
 
I can’t help it.”

He pumped harder and harder, his hands skimming
down my sides, over my hips until he cupped my ass and pulled me into him so he
could get deeper inside of me.

I felt him convulse on top of me, and then I
felt him explode in my pussy, warming me with his come, filling me, making me
his.

When he was done he collapsed on top of
me.
 
I ran my hands up his back,
enjoying the feel of him still inside of me as I ran my hands over the chiseled
muscles of his back, up the back of his neck and through his hair.

He pulled out of me slowly,
then
laid next to me on the couch.

I swallowed, the adrenaline slowly dissipating,
the intensity and meaning of what I’d done finally beginning to hit me.

Colt turned over and propped himself up on his
elbow.
 

He reached out and grabbed a strand of my hair,
began absent-mindedly turning it over in his fingers.
 
I couldn’t tell from his expression what
he was thinking.
 
Had he liked
it?
 
Had it been as good for him as
it was for me?
 
Had I been enough
for him.

I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I
was afraid.

 
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded.
 
“Yes.”

“Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head.
 
“No.
 
Not too much.”

We lay there for a long moment, not saying
anything, our legs tangled in each other, Colt’s fingertips brushing softly
over my lower belly.

There was knock on the door, and Colt jumped
off of the couch, rushing to put his clothes on.
 

I followed suit.

“Colt,” Jessa called from the other side of the
door.
 
“The door’s locked.”

“Yeah,” he said.
 
“I’m coming.”

He turned and left, whatever had burned between
us, whatever connection we’d had, disappearing into a puff of smoke.

 

**

 

I went back to my computer.

I didn’t know what else to do.

It was impossible to concentrate.

I couldn’t believe I’d slept with him, right
there on the couch.
 
I kept glancing
over there, like it was the scene of a crime.

I wondered how many girls he’d slept with on
that couch.
 
Probably dozens.

The thought filled me with a sick jealousy.

How could I feel this way about someone I
hardly knew?
 

As the hours went by, the panic began to build
in my chest.
  

I’d slept with him.

Kissing him was one thing.

But sleeping with him?

I was supposed to go see Declan tonight.
 
How could I tell him what had
happened?
 
Did I even have to tell
him what had happened?
 
We’d
promised each other that we’d never be with anyone else, that we’d be each
other’s first everything.
 
But we
couldn’t cross that line when we were in the system – if we’d gotten
caught hooking up in our foster home, we’d be separated forever.

Declan had been willing to risk it.

But I knew that if he
was
caught with me, they’d blame him.
 
Sure, it would be bad for me – I’d be moved, and it would always
be in my file that I had a sexual history with another foster kid.
 
‘Sexually acting out’ they called it, as
if two teenagers hooking up was something nefarious and not completely
normal.
 

But it would be worse for him.

It was always worse for the boy.

I typed his address into the computer, searching
for clues as to what his life might be like.

His apartment building seemed to be in a nice
area of town, and it made me glad.
 
I wondered if he lived alone, if he had a roommate, what kind of job he
had.

When I googled his name, nothing came up, and I
wondered again how Colt had found him.
 

“You still going?” a voice asked.

I turned to see Colt standing behind me, his
voice low and dark.

“Oh,” I said.
 
“What?”

“Deacon,” he said.
 
“You’re still going to see him?”

“Declan,” I said.

Colt rolled his eyes.
 
“Whatever.
 
Are you going to see him or not?”

“I’m not sure.”
 
For the first time in my life, something
was stronger than my desire to see Declan.
 
It was my desire for Colt.
 
He stood there in front of me, in his t-shirt and jeans, sexy and
gorgeous and beautiful, and the need to be close to him pulsed inside of me,
pushing everything else out.

I wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his hands
on me and his body on mine.
 
It was
a pull stronger than anything I’d ever felt before, more intense than my need
for Declan, more intense than my need to cut.

Tell me not to go,
I pleaded silently.
 
Tell me to stay here, with you.
 
Tell me you don’t want me to see
him, that
you don’t want me to be with anyone but you.

Colt turned.
 
“You can take my car.”

“What?”

He shrugged, then moved to the other side of
the office, pulled a file folder out of the cabinet and began looking through
it.
 
“I’m staying late,” he
said.
 
“I can get a ride home with
Ava.”

I felt the sharp sting of tears against my
eyes.

Disappointment filled my belly.

But I should have known better.

I should have known better than to fall for
Colt’s act, his ‘Olivia, are you okay’ act, the way he’d been gentle with me,
how he’d taken care of me last night, how he’d acted like he cared.

The truth was, he didn’t care.

He didn’t care about anything except that he’d
gotten to fuck me.
 

He was like any other man I’d known in my
life.
 
They didn’t care about
anything but their dicks, and as soon as they got what they wanted, they were
just on to the next, ready to cast you aside like you were nothing.

So I did what I’d always done when something
horrible happened to me, when something was so painful that I didn’t want to
deal with it.
 
I stuffed it down as
far as I could, further and further, to a place where it would lie in wait
until it would inevitably resurface at some point and make me want to cut
myself.

“That’s okay,” I said.
 
“I can get there on my own.”

He shrugged.
 
“Fine.”

He turned and walked out of the room, and I
felt myself start to fall apart.

Stop being weak,
I told myself.
 
Stop.
 
This is your own fault.
 
You shouldn’t have had sex with him,
what is wrong with you?

I’d ruined everything, for a guy who didn’t
even care about me.

I needed to get out of there.

 
I
needed to get away from him.

I would go see Declan.

He would take care of me, and if he wouldn’t,
well, then I could go back to the Walnut Street shelter.

Anything was better than this.

I grabbed the ten dollars that was sitting on
the
desk,
the money Colt had given me this morning for
lunch.
 

I picked up the iPhone and hesitated, wondering
if I should I take it.

It would be stealing.

I would take it just until I got to Declan’s, I
decided.
 
Then I would mail it back
to Colt.

I grabbed my bag and headed down the hallway.

The club was still dead at this time of day,
and I didn’t run into Colt or pass anyone else.

When I got outside, I had that same feeling of
relief that I’d had last night, like I’d escaped a bad place that was trying to
pull me under.

A tiny shiver of anxiety slid up my spine when
I remembered what had happened to me the last time I was alone in this
neighborhood, when those two men had attacked me.

But the streets were busier now, with people
going in and out of the stores and restaurants that lined the street.
 

I pulled up the bus schedule on my phone,
studying it until I figured out which bus would take me to Declan’s
neighborhood.
 
There was a bus stop
two blocks away, and the bus I needed was coming in about twenty minutes.

I ducked into a drug store to kill some time.

I picked out a bottle of water and then moved
to the cosmetics aisle and browsed the nail polishes, sliding my hand over the
row of bright colors, wondering which one Declan would like.
  
I couldn’t believe I was going to
be at his apartment soon.
 

 
I
tried to conjure up the desperation I usually felt when I thought of Declan.

But I couldn’t think of anything but Colt.

Flashes of him pulsed through my body.

His kiss.

His hands.

His cock.

All of me, tangled up with him, the feeling of him
buried inside of me, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm on that couch.

Longing and desire slid through me.

It was so strong it almost took my breath away.

“Hey,” a voice said next to me, and I turned to
look.
 
A man was standing there,
giving me a friendly smile.
 
He
looked slightly familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Hi,” I said, smiling back and then trying to
move away.

“Olivia, right?”

I turned around.
 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.
 
Caleb, from last
night.
 
My friends were being
raucous assholes?”
 
He looked
sheepish.

“Oh,” I said, remembering him from the club,
the guy I’d served drinks to, the one who’d given me a big tip to make up for
his friends being rowdy.
 
“Oh,
right.
 
How are you?”

“I’m good.”
 
He ran his hand through his hair.
 
“How are you?”

“Good,” I said, and then stood there
awkwardly.
 
I wasn’t sure how
friendly I was supposed to be with a guy who’d come into Loose Cannons.

“Listen,” he said,
 
“this might be a little weird, but do
you want to grab lunch or something?”

“Oh,” I said.
 
“I’m sorry, I can’t.
 
I’m running late.
 
But it was nice to see you again.”
 
I turned around and rushed to the cash
register.
 
I paid for my water,
making sure not to turn around, not wanting to give Caleb a reason to try to
talk to me again.

Once I was outside, I still had a few minutes
before the bus was supposed to come, and I wasn’t sure where to go, so I walked
around the corner, looking for another shop or café to duck into it.

But suddenly, he was behind me.

Caleb.

“Olivia,” he said, his strides lengthening as
he fell into step beside me.
 
His
voice was completely changed now, gone from friendly and flirty to serious and
dark.
 
“Don’t be scared.
  
I need to talk to you.”

Other books

Antiques Roadkill by Barbara Allan
Deceptive Nights by Sylvia Hubbard
Chasing Bliss by Eubanks, Sabrina A.
A Daddy for Dillon by Bagwell, Stella
The Blood of the Hydra by Michelle Madow