PULLING INTO THE driveway of the house we shared with our friends, Colt and I quickly grabbed our bags and flew inside. Running upstairs, I dumped my clothes on the floor in an attempt to make it look like I had been here. Running in to the hallway, Colt and I slammed into each other. He had already changed his clothes as my eyes ran over his body.
“The project!” we both shouted at once.
Turning, we ran downstairs.
“Colt, I don’t really have a project!”
Colt stood in the middle of the living room. Spinning.
God he looked so cute all freaked out. I had wondered what would happen if I just jumped on him right then and demanded he fuck me up against something? Women were always talking about being taken up against something. The whole orgasm against the hotel door was nice. Really nice. Really, really nice.
“Lauren! What are you standing there daydreaming about? Our parents will be here soon.”
My eyes moved over Colt’s body. The way he was walking around in those Wranglers was sinful. His ass looked amazing.
Focus, Lauren. Project. Parents on the way. Colt’s ass. Taking me up against something. No, no, no! Focus.
An idea came to me, and I yelled out, “I got it!” Running upstairs, I looked around my room for the scrapbook paper I had bought for the baby book I made Luke and Libby. Grabbing a few pieces, I ran back down the stairs. Colt was still standing in the middle of the living room. Taking a quick peek at him, I attempted not to run into anything.
Yep. Still looking hot as hell.
“Colt, can you stop standing there looking all hot?”
Pulling his head back with a confused look upon his face, Colt said, “I’m not hot. Do I look hot? If I’m sweating, it’s because I’m sure your father is going to see it all over my face. I had sex with your daughter. It will be like a giant imprint on my forehead.”
Letting out a giggle, I opened the pantry and looked around. There they are! Reaching for the bag of pasta, I pulled it out and tossed it down on the paper. Shutting the door, I walked up to Colt, who was leaning against the island. “I mean you looked hot as in handsome, or I want you to take me up against a wall or a door. Oh! Holy sheets! In the shower!” My mouth dropped open and I looked at Colt. Why hadn’t I thought of that back at the hotel? Damn it! Oh, I’m so mad at myself.
“W-what?”
“Yes! I totally want to have hot, fast, give it to me hard sex in the shower.”
Colt wet his lips and let out a small moan. I was just about to kiss him when I remembered the project. “The project!”
Spinning on my heels, I quickly skipped over to the junk drawer, as Grace calls it. Pulling it open, I grabbed the glue stick.
Making my way back over to the scrapbook paper, I opened the box of pasta.
Looking at Colt through my eyelashes, I couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression. I knew my sex in the shower comment probably had him going insane.
Using the glue I drew the number one and then started putting pasta on it. Colt continued to gaze at me with an incredulous stare. “Want to help?” I asked.
“Um . . . sure. What in the hell are you making?”
“My project.”
Colt’s head snapped up and he slowly tilted it as his eyes moved from the pasta to me, then back to the pasta. “Um . . . what is it?”
Drawing the number four with glue, I put more pasta on it. “Seriously? You don’t know?”
Pursing his lips as he took in my project, he shook his head. “Lauren, I have no fucking clue what you are doing.” Picking up the pasta, he began mindlessly pushing it onto the glue number.
Drawing the number three, we repeated the process. I held up the paper and smiled. “My project,” I proclaimed with pride.
“It looks like something we had to do in grade school. What is with you and the numbers one, four, and three?”
Feeling my face blush, I started cleaning my hands to get the glue off. “You really don’t know what it means?”
“Nope. I know I’ve seen you write it on a bunch on your notes in high school.”