Can't Fight It (Fair Lakes 3)
“Just you, Colton. Just you.”
“I’m going to grab a drink of water, you want one?”
“Yes, that actually would be great.”
I make my way to the kitchen from memory and the light of the fire, and grab two glasses from the cabinet, filling them with water. I down mine, then fill it again before carrying them both into the living room. Once we’re done, I set them on the end table, so we don’t knock them over while we sleep. Taking my spot on the blankets, I burrow under and pull her into me. It’s noticeably warmer with clothes on. It’s a sacrifice I’ve made, but I would feel terrible if she were to get sick just to appease my desire to be next to her.
As we lie here next to the warmth and the glow of the fire on our bed of blankets, I realize that I want more than just a raincheck. I want every night she’s willing to give me. I want to learn more about her, what she loves, what she hates. I want to know it all.
“Hollis?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
I snuggle in deeper, burying my face in her neck as I make a silent vow to learn it all. I want to get to know all of her, and I won’t stop until I do.
This night has been more than I ever could have imagined, and we owe it to ourselves to see where this goes. I just pray that she knows what she’s signing up for being with a single father. There will be times when Milo will need all of me. From what I know of her, she’s going to be right there by my side. It’s that image that I see, the three of us together, as I drift off to sleep.Chapter 10HollisWhen I wake in the morning, I’m smothered in heat. From head to toe, warmth envelopes me, making it damn near impossible to fully wake up. But I do, and when I open my eyes, I find nothing but smoldering ash in the fireplace, and a big, muscular arm stretched around me.
Oh. Yeah. Last night.
I can’t help but smile as I stretch. A delicious soreness tingles my thighs and lady parts. Last night comes back in bright Technicolor. The sexual tension stretched over the evening, from the moment we got to the gym to the second we pulled in the driveway. It burned with anticipation so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.
And the makeshift bed in front of a fireplace? Well, that was just the icing on top of the orgasm-laced cake.
Now, as the sun slowly peeks through the curtains, a bubble of uncertainty lodges in my stomach. Am I supposed to go home? Tell him thanks for the good time and then leave, returning to my side of the wall and to our landlord-renter relationship? Is it still a walk of shame if it’s only a matter of yards, and you’re the only one to see you?
God, this is why I don’t do this.
This is why I don’t sleep with random guys, especially ones who I see on practically a daily basis.
But then his words, his actions come back to me. He told me he was tired of fighting it. He led me to believe this wasn’t just an isolated in-the-moment occasion. The way he held me and touched me felt like it was the start of something. Something new.
Something great.
“You’re thinking awfully hard,” he mumbles, adjusting his arms and pulling me even closer. My ass comes in contact with his already hard cock, and I can feel myself getting wet with anticipation.
“I was just noticing it’s warm in here, even though the fire’s almost out,” I tell him, completely avoiding the “other” thoughts in my head.
“The power came back on about three, which is good because I let the fire burn too low. I was too nice and warm here with you,” he tells me, nuzzling my neck and rocking his hips.
A noise croaks from my dry throat, sort of a hum and sort of a moan. Colton seems to take my sound as a positive and runs his lips along the back of my neck as his hand slips up my shirt and splays against my stomach.
“I have an idea,” he whispers, licking and kissing my skin and basically sending me into a hyper-aware sexual frenzy.
Pushing back gently and grinding my ass against his erection, I say, “I can’t wait to hear it.”
He grunts, gripping my hip and holding me tightly against him. “Breakfast. Shower. Get Milo.” His words are clipped, edgy as he continues to hold me perfectly still, as if having me pressed to him is causing him pain.
Not the bad kind of pain, mind you.
Oh, no. The good kind.
Ignoring his silent pleas, I wrap my palm around the hand he’s gripping my hip with and press back with my ass. He moans in my ear, nipping at the lobe, and sending me orbiting into a frenzy of desire and need. Lifting my leg, I sling it back and over his outer thigh. He takes his hand and mine with it, and slips them under the waistband of my pants. Big thick fingers slide against my clit, teasing until I’m practically riding his hand.