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“What?”
“My name is Colt.”
She rolls her eyes. “Let him go, Colt.”
Hearing my name come from her lips has my body reacting in a way it shouldn’t in a situation like this, even if it was sneered out.
“Fine, but we’re calling the police.” I let him go, and he slumps to the floor on his hands and knees.
“No!” she yells, grabbing the phone I’ve pulled from my pocket.
“Why? This asshole needs to pay for hurting you!”
What the hell is wrong with her? It was plain to see from her face that she didn’t enjoy what this asshole was
doing.
“He wasn’t hurting me,” she says, sending my slightly calming heart into overdrive again. I hope like hell she isn’t saying what I think she is.
The guy on the floor tries to get to his feet, so I kick him in the stomach to keep him down. He’s not going anywhere until I find out what’s going on. He falls to his side, one hand over his gushing nose, the other arm wrapped around his middle.
Fucking pussy.
I take a step toward Abby. She backs up a step when she sees the menacing look on my face.
“What do you mean, he wasn’t hurting you? I saw you’re face, Abby.”
Her back hits the wall. I move in closer and cage her in with my arms. Her hands land on my chest to try to ward me off. Just to show her who’s stronger, I push, bending her arms and letting her know her feeble attempts to keep me away are futile.
“He wasn’t hurting me, Blue,” she repeats.
“Colt,” I growl. “So, you’re telling me you were enjoying what he was doing?”
The question comes out as an unforgiving snarl. For a split second, her eyes show a hint of fear, before the look disappears and is replaced with anger. Her nails dig into my pecs in warning.
“And if I was?” she asks with challenge.
I lean down further, until our noses are practically touching. The rage I’m feeling has my body shaking.
My words are soft, but harsh. “You’re telling me you were going to let another man put his dick in your pussy after I had mine in there not even two days ago?”
Her breath hitches, and even through the darkness, I can see her pupils dilate. I can practically smell the desire radiating off her body at the reminder of her full with my cock. Some of my wrath dissolves when she licks her lips, tempting me to close the few centimeters between us, ready to claim her mouth once and for all. That’s one of my regrets from Saturday—not tasting her mouth.
“No,” she whispers, then drops her eyes from mine to look down at my chest.
My fisted hands, that are on the wall by her head, cramp when I clench them tighter. This woman is confusing me. She claims the guy wasn’t hurting her, but the look on her face said differently. She says that she wasn’t going to let him fuck her, but if he wasn’t forcing her, then she had to have been here willingly.
“Which is it, Abby?” I growl, needing to know if I should kick this guy’s ass for hurting her, or kick his ass for daring to touch what is mine.
“Neither.” She shakes her head, swallows, then looks up at me. Her eyes carry the same confusion I’m feeling. “I didn’t want him, but he wasn’t hurting or forcing me, either.”
“Abby, what—”
“Take me back to my place,” she blurts out, interrupting me.
For the first time tonight, I notice the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the paleness of her cheeks. She doesn’t look like she feels well. My ire dies, and concern takes over. Her eyes once again drop from mine when she sees my worry. I bend my knees and force her to look at me when I get in her face.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask.
