Dream of You - Page 13/31

“Honey, how old do you think I am that all I’m about is getting laid?” he asked.

“Well, I mean, I get horny and want to get laid too, and we’re roughly the same age.” I really needed to shut up. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s human nature.”

“Human nature?” His blue eyes brightened as he laughed under his breath. “Can I just tell you that I’m thrilled to hear you get horny, and honey, you want to get laid, I’m your man, but you don’t really know me, Abby.”

I was still stuck on him being my man if I wanted to get laid, and boy, did I ever want to get laid. Hadn’t even really considered it seriously in the last four years. No guy had sparked my attention, but right now? An ache had already blossomed and my breath came in and out in little shallow bursts, a reaction just to the mere idea of sleeping with him.

“And we’re going to change that,” Colton said. “You and I are going to get to know each other in a way that’s long overdue.”

My breath caught as a tight shiver coiled. “We are?”

That half grin did crazy-insane things to me. “Oh, we are. You know why? Because we got a second chance to do so and we aren’t going to miss that, are we?”

I couldn’t look away. “No?”

“That’s right.” Lifting his arm, he cupped my cheek with his hand. “Here’s an important piece of information about me. If I’m looking for just a lay, I’m not going to bring that woman crepes in the morning or fix her window. And I’m sure as hell not going to risk my career to just screw around with a witness. If I’m going to take that risk, it’s going to be worth it.” His thumb dragged under my lip, causing me to suck in a shallow breath. “And honey, I have a good feeling, you’re worth it.”

Before I could respond, before I could say anything that would probably ruin everything he’d just said, he slipped that hand along my cheek, his fingers tangling in my hair as he leaned in, forcing his knee between mine. I took a breath. My heart beat. All I saw was the blue of his eyes.

And then Colton kissed me.

Chapter 8

Every enjoyable, exaggerated thing my authors have ever written about being kissed was totally true, and it had been so long since I’d been kissed that I’d forgotten that.

The moment his lips touched mine, my body flushed hot, and it was a gentle kiss, nothing more than a light sweeping of his lips across mine—once and then twice. As if he were slowly mapping out the feel of my lips, he took his time familiarizing himself.

And then he caught my lower lip between his, creating a mad flutter in my stomach. The hand on my cheek shifted and his long fingers cradled the back of my head as he lifted his mouth from mine. His eyes burned a blue fire. There was a questioning in his gaze, and when I didn’t pull away, his hand tightened.

Colton kissed me again, full on, and his lips were an amazing combination of soft and hard, satin stretched over steel.

My hand fell to his chest and the other to his knee as I felt the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth. My lips parted, and that kiss deepened. I tasted the coffee on his tongue and I knew he tasted me.

At first, I didn’t really move. I let him lead the way, take that kiss in a direction that caused my blood to simmer, but when his tongue touched mine, it was like I woke up. My senses came alive. Every nerve ending in my body fired all at once.

This…this was what I had been missing.

Tilting my head to the side, I slipped my hand around his neck, anchoring his mouth to mine. I kissed him back, devouring him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then he was moving.

Not away, but standing, and then he was hovering over me, his other hand curving around my hip. He lifted me, and I wasn’t a small girl. I marveled in the act as he laid me on my back, his mouth never leaving mine. One elbow planted into the cushion of the couch beside my head, and he kept his body off mine even as the demand of his lips increased and the pleasure of his mouth moving over mine heightened.

I didn’t know a kiss could feel like this.

Like he was touching every part of me.

I clung to him, willing him to lower his body to mine so that I could feel his weight. A shiver worked its way across my skin as my fingers sifted through the soft brush of hair along the nape of his neck. He tasted decadent, a deep, rich maleness.

And when he lifted his mouth again, I whimpered from the loss. Actually, whimpered. “I like that sound,” he said in a rich, sensual voice. “Really fucking like it.”

Colton kissed me once more. “There’re a few things I want to get straight.”

“Does that require talking?”

His answering chuckle brushed my lips. “It does.” There was a pause as his mouth brushed the corner of my lips. “But I can multitask.”

“Thank God,” I whispered.

His body shook with another laugh and then his mouth was moving along the curve of my jaw. “You’re not pretty.”

My eyes flew open and widened. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think you’re pretty.” His mouth found my pulse. “I think you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Oh.” I gasped as my hand curled around the straining bicep. A warmth grew in my chest.

“I thought you were beautiful damn near a decade ago.” The hot, wet lick against my pulse caused my back to arch. “With your dark hair and fair skin, you were like a living Snow White.” That mouth of his was on the move, coasting down my throat, scattering my thoughts. “I don’t have a type, Abby. I don’t go for just blondes or whatever.” With his other hand, he worked my shirt to the side, baring my shoulder. “Checkered?”

At first, I didn’t get what he was referencing, but then I felt his finger trailing the lacy strap of my bra. “I think checkered print is underrated.”

He laughed and then he pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat. “And something else I want you to understand, Abby. You’re not average. You could never be average.”

My breath caught. “You barely know me.”

Blazing a trail of fiery little kisses across my collarbone, he dragged his hand down my side, over my waist, to the flare of my hip once more. “Nothing about you screams average. Never did. I know damn well that hasn’t changed.”

This had to be a dream.

His hand squeezed my hip as he coasted those lips all the way back to mine, kissing me slowly, deeply. Blue fire still burned in his eyes when his gaze met mine.

Then he slowly pressed down, the hardest part of him against the softest part of me. I gasped at the feel of the heavy bulge. Liquid heat pooled. A tempting warmth built inside of me, a raw fire. God, I hadn’t felt this way in…

“That’s what you do to me,” he said, nipping at my lip as he rocked his hips against mine. Desire darted through my veins. Goodness, he was—there were no words. “You get what I’m showing you?” he asked, lust hardening his words.

Part of me did. There was the other part that couldn’t comprehend his interest, and finally, another part that wanted to stop talking and start kissing again.

But that second part of me won out. “Where do you see this going?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and in that short space, reality kicked in. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to ask that question, but what were we doing? Last night had been the first time we’d talked in years and now we were kissing? Hell, we were doing more than kissing. I was flat on my back and he knew I was wearing a checkered print bra.