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Coleman clears his throat, then shakes his head once. “I can’t send you back there alone, and we don’t have another bed.”
Slowly, he shifts his attention to me. “Want to stay in the hotel one more night?” he asks.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. I can’t deny I’m excited about this. My brother won’t be alone. We’ll be there with him, and maybe, just maybe, Coleman will fall in love with him and see Andrew for the remarkable person he is.
Maybe he’ll welcome Andrew into the family with open arms and allow him to stay here. I don’t think he would be happy going back to Vegas alone. He doesn’t have anyone anymore, just me, and I want him to stay here—with us.
ChapterThirty-Six
COLEMAN
Last timeI walked into this hotel room, I’d snuck in and fucked my fiancée without her knowing she was even my fiancée at the time. Being her stalker, sneaking into her room, wherever she was, it was a great fucking time all around.
I smile to myself at the memory. It was only a few weeks ago, but it feels like a whole lifetime has passed since those moments with her. So much shit has gone the fuck down since the wedding. I hope we get a bit of a fucking break from it all soon.
My gaze lands on Andrew, who is taking a bottle of water out of the fridge. He turns to me, giving me a small smile, before he lifts his hand in a wave and moves toward his room. I don’t move in that direction yet. Instead, I make my way into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine, pouring two glasses.
Claire watches me from across the bar, then extends her arm when I hold out her glass. She doesn’t drink much, but I think after the past few days we’ve had, she would want something to calm her nerves a bit.
I watch as she wraps her fingers around the glass, her gaze never leaving mine. I decide I need to say something, and as much as it’s not something I would ever do, I find it comes out easier than I imagined.
“I’m not one to apologize for anything, but I want to say I am sorry that shit turned out the way it did with your parents, your brother, and Shelby,” I murmur.
She lifts her glass of wine to her lips, then takes a sip before she places it down. She watches me for a long moment before she speaks. When she does, I would say I’m surprised at the woman she is, but I’m not. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that she was special—different. That she was capable of living in this life with me.
Everything about her was confirmed as I began to watch her. And now, having her to myself, I realize just how fucking lucky I am. There is no other woman I would ever fucking want at my side. Not in a million fucking years.
“I know you are. I could tell by the way you acted, by the look on your face, that you didn’t get off on what happened. It wasn’t something you wanted to do.”
“I didn’t,” I mutter.
I watch her, waiting for her to get pissed off, become angry, go through any part of grief at all, but it never happens. Instead, she gives me a soft smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes, but it’s clear that she’s not angry. She’s exhausted.
Reaching across the small bar, I cup her cheek and run my thumb along the bottom of her lip. I lean forward and touch my lips to hers, pressing against them, but don’t deepen the kiss.
“Let’s go to bed, hummingbird,” I whisper against her lips before I shift back slightly. I watch as she slides her tongue along her bottom lip, her eyes focused on mine, and there is a hunger there that I didn’t expect to see. “Claire?”
“Let’s go to bed, Coleman,” she says almost with a purr in her voice. It’s sexy as shit, just like she is.
Taking the glass of wine out of her hand, I turn slightly and place it on the small counter, along with my own, then I reach down, grip her ass with my fingers, and lift her feet off the floor.
I move toward the bedroom, kicking the door closed with my foot and releasing one of her cheeks to flip the dead bolt locked, then my focus is the bed and being inside of her body. That is all I want right now. I can’t even think about anything else.
Flattening my tongue, I taste the entire column of her throat, then nip her earlobe before I shift her down to her feet. Releasing the cheeks of her ass, I grab hold of her face with one hand, my fingers digging into the flesh of her cheeks.
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything, not that I think she can. Pushing her down to her knees, I watch as they buckle, and she lands softly on the carpet. She’s eye level with my cock, and I can’t wait for her mouth to wrap around my dick and suck me deep.
“Who do you belong to?” I ask on a growl.
“You,” she replies, though I can tell it is a struggle to get the word out because of the way I’m holding her face.
Shifting my hand, I slip my thumb past her lips. “Suck,” I demand.
She does, perfectly and without being asked. I feel her fingers nimbly tugging my belt open, then my pants are pushed down over my hips until they pool at my feet on the floor. Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of my underwear, and those slide down my thighs and legs as well. The entire time, she doesn’t pause sucking my finger.
It’s hot as fuck.
Slipping my hand from her face, I watch, then moan as she wraps her hand around the base as she leans forward, wrapping her lips around the tip, swirling her tongue there. Then she slowly takes more of me inside of her.
