“I’m lucky I can help her after everything she’s done for me.” My nose prickles, and my chest gets tight. “She loves me in her own way, she really does.”
“Shit.” He closes the distance between us and reaches out, running his fingers down my arm. “Tell me I’m an asshole, Quinn.”
I rub away the tears before they can turn into more. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, I am, but I needed to see your authentic reaction and I don’t know the next time I’ll get you to myself. Priest and Sinner would deck me for making you upset.”
“Good.” I glare up at him, my anger softening. “You’re lucky I’m not really half demon.”
“Why’s that?”
I lean in and poke him in the chest. “Because you just pissed me off after showing me how to use the gun that’s right behind you.”
A confident smirk curls his lips as he leans closer, so close his nose is just barely not touching me. “Bang,” he whispers, then presses his lips against mine.
His kiss is rough, insistent. He’s staking a claim that has my knees shaking and goosebumps tickling their way up and down my arms. He traps my lower lip between his teeth and nips, sliding his tongue into my mouth when I react. He runs his hand up my side, exploring my shape while we devour each other. At first it’s on the outside of my shirt, but then he slips underneath, tracing my ribs with his fingertips, all the way from my hips and up to my bra, and back down.
“I wanna take your fucking clothes off.” His voice is hoarse and gravelly.
I’m not the only one affected by that kiss, but he’s giving me the chance to back off. Just a moment to change my mind. Or maybe come to my senses because after all, he is an asshole.
But strangely in a way I don’t think I mind.
I nod. “Okay,” I almost whimper, and it feels totally insufficient, but I’m still catching up with my breathing.
“Good.” He takes my hand and pulls me back into the school. We rush up the stairs just like so many other feet have done over the years, stopping to make out in the stairwell when the door sticks and we run out of patience. I laugh when he kicks open the door and drags me down the hall until we get to his room.
There’s a kitchenette, a couch, some chairs. I don’t really pay much attention to anything once he grabs me by the hips and literally tosses me onto the bed. I’m frozen mid laugh, staring at him hungrily as he crawls onto the mattress and kneels in front of me.
I’m nervous, but I still raise my arms when he takes the bottom hem of my shirt and starts to pull it up. The moment the shirt hits the floor, he’s back to kissing me. I’ve said you can tell a lotabout a man by how he kisses, and right now I’m learning that he’s never going to be a man who moderates himself. He has to be cautious, because when he commits, he’s all in.
Colt might not want forever, but right now I have his total and complete attention.
My bra goes slack without me even having noticed that he was working the catch. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to object, but I tighten my arms around his neck and kiss him harder, making it clear that I’m on board. I want this just like he does.
He captures my breast in his hand, skin against skin, his rough fingers tracing its shape until he finds my nipple and rolls it between his fingers. I groan at the rush of heat that breaks over me like a wave, my senses hyperaware of his touch.
His kisses forge a trail down my jaw and onto my neck. When he reaches my collarbone, he traces it with his tongue, before making his first journey up the swell of my breast. My breathing is already shallow, but when he captures a nipple in his mouth, I gasp out loud. He knows exactly what he’s doing, nipping me with his teeth, then laving it with his tongue and kissing it better.
With a moan, I twist my fingers into his messy hair, grabbing hold to guide him. With a murmur of a laugh, he lets me lead him down into the valley of my cleavage and back up to my other breast so it can get a fair share of the attention. Meanwhile, he’s exploring my back and sides with strong hands, tracing patterns over my skin with his curious fingers.
Until Priest last night, I hadn’t gone past a little heavy kissing in years, and it feels like I’m making up for lost time. When he pops the button on my jeans, I don’t protest. I just let him ease me back onto the bed and lift my hips so he can slide them down mylegs and toss them aside. He looms over me, still fully dressed while I’m down to only panties.
His eyes are lust-darkened and watching me like he’s admiring fine art. “Jesus, you’re pretty,” he growls. “All of you.”
I’ve been judged for my looks since I can remember. It can really mess with your head to grow up being told that you’re beautiful in one breath, and then turned away at the next because your torso to leg ratio was off, or your bone structure wasn’t what they were looking for. I have what I sometimes call “feisty best friend” looks, and that’s okay, but I don’t think that’s what he sees, and I like the feeling of being seen through his eyes.
“You’re not bad yourself,” I tease. “But you’re making me feel underdressed.”
“Yeah?” He grins. “Too bad you’re not in charge here, honey. Now be a good girl, and do as you’re told.”
I wet my lips. “And what’s that?”
He captures my panties with both hands and starts inching them down. Swallowing nervously, I let him, even though it leaves me completely naked and exposed. Vulnerable. I trust him, though. Not in spite of the fact that he isn’t soft or gentle with the truth, but because of it.
I don’t think he’s the sort of man that would fake whatever this is that’s growing between us.
Colt pulls his shirt up over his head and tosses it aside, revealing the kind of body that inspired the Greeks and Romans to carve figures in marble. Defined planes and muscled slopes. I reach out and trace a finger along one of the jet-black bands on hisforearm. It seems like it should feel like armor, but there’s nothing but smooth, warm skin.
