Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders 6)

Chapter Thirteen

India picked up the box of condoms and headed down the hallway to Colt’s room. She switched on the overhead light and cast a quick glance around. Earth tones prevailed. The walls were deep hunter green, the fabrics a mix of browns, tans and golds, the carpet a sandy beige.

The frame of the four-poster California king-sized bed was constructed from logs. Nightstands crafted out of the same honey-colored pine book-ended the enormous bed. A matching dresser spanned the far wall. A buffalo-skin leather chair and ottoman were set at a jaunty angle beside it. The door to the walk-in closet was closed, but the door to the master bathroom was ajar. She caught a glimpse of the oversized shower and the tile floor.

It was weird to think she’d helped choose the furnishings for Colt’s room, from the color palette to the bedding. And now she’d be sliding around naked with him on those striped cotton sheets?

Weird indeed.

His muffled footsteps stopped behind her. He was close enough his body heat burned her naked back, but he didn’t touch her. “What are you thinkin’ about right now?”

“I remember when we went to Cheyenne and picked out the bedding. How you insisted on nothing too ‘girlie’. Heck, I Branded As Trouble

remember picking out the bed. Bouncing on the mattress and laughing, trying to freak out the salespeople by pretending we were having sex. I never imagined you and I would actually be…”

“Didn’t you? Didn’t you really? It never once crossed your mind that you’d be in my bed?”

India couldn’t answer, mostly because she didn’t know the right answer.

Colt’s lips landed on the nape of her neck. “Lemme show you all the things I thought about doin’ to you in my bed.”

Tingles raced down her spine.

He took her hand and tugged her behind him. He tossed the pillows to the floor and yanked back the coverlet. Facing her with a wicked grin, he patted the mattress. “Hop up. Get in the middle.”

A bout of nerves hit her as she set the box of condoms up in the corner and lay flat.

Then Colt was hanging above her. Kissing her with fire and sweetness. “Indy—” he said her name between kisses, “—put your arms straight out so I can see you. All of you.”

She did.

He nuzzled her neck, nipped at her jaw. “Tell me about your tattoos.”

“Which one?”

“All of them on the front.” His callused finger traced the designs on her right arm, from the ball of her shoulder down to her wrist. “Why’d you go with a sleeve on one arm and not the other?”

Colt’s mouth on her skin was beyond divine, but it was hell on her concentration. “It wasn’t intentional. I wanted a cool snake curling up my arm, with the tail on my wrist and the head on my biceps. I had no idea my buddy GG planned to ink a flesh-colored snake until it was done.”

“It really is unique.”

“Then I knew the skin around it needed to be brightly colored with geometric shapes and abstract images so I designed those.”

“It’s sexy as hell.” Colt bent his head and licked, from the tail of the snake up to the fangs.

“Oh. Wow. That’s the first time…”

“The first time what?”

Any man has paid homage to my tats with his tongue. “You’ve said anything about my tattoos.”

“Really? I love them. All of them. Especially the twisted barbed wire circling this biceps. It looks so real. The drops of blood on the tips of the barbs are a realistic touch.”

“Is that why you had me do one on you?” She traced the thick black lines on Colt’s biceps. His tat was a far better design than hers. She’d killed herself drawing it, and spent extra time inking him, desperate for Colt to be proud to have it on his arm.

“Yep. If I had the guts, I’d have you continue all the way down to my wrist so it looks like my arm is trapped in barbed wire.”

India’s head started spinning. That would actually make a kick-ass tattoo.

“And this one?” He pressed his lips to the black scorpion tattoo on the upper swell of her left breast.

She refocused. “I thought it’d be funny to have a deadly insect crawling out of my bra.”

“What about this one?” He traced the large blue starburst pattern surrounding her belly button.

“I designed it when Skylar decided to leave the rat race in California and turn her hobby into a business.” Her belly rippled when his thumb brushed over the design and the jewel dangling from her navel.

“Seems odd that you’d celebrate her success by inking yourself.”

“It was supposed to be for her, but she chickened out. I liked the design too much to let it go to waste. My friend Brett in Las Vegas did it.”

“Another good decision.” Colt lowered his head, allowing his hair to tease her skin before his mouth descended to lick the outline of the tattoo. Repeatedly. Thoroughly.

“Any other questions?”

“Not right now.” He dragged his tongue down the center of her body. Slowly. “God, you’re so soft.” Colt nuzzled her mound. “You smell so good. I wanna bury my face here. Let your scent mark me.

Feel your sweet juices flowing down the back of my throat.”

“If that’s what you want, Colt, I won’t stop you.”

He looked at her across the expanse of her body. Those blue eyes were dark with intent. “Oh, I want.”

“Are you going to make me wait?”

“No. I’ve been starvin’ for a taste of you for too long. Spread your legs.” He traced the metal bar with his tongue. “Did it hurt to get pierced?”

“A little.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I lost a bet.”

Colt looked up. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh. Since I lose all the time I should probably give up betting, huh?”

He chuckled. “I don’t mind when you lose to me, sugar.”

“After I had it in for a while…I liked it.”

“I like it too. A lot.” Then he pulled the piercing and her clit into his mouth and sucked.

Her pelvis shot up.

He clamped his hands around her hips and held them down.

Again, no foreplay, no teasing, no fingers stroking the inside walls of her pu**y, just a relentless rhythmic sucking.

“Your mouth is so…God, do you know how to use your mouth.”

A hum of approval vibrated up her core. He backed off and blew across her flesh, wet from his mouth and her own arousal.