She nodded, staring down at her hand on his chest. “I can’t be in a relationship without trust. Never again. If I don’t have trust, I don’t have anything.” Her head tilted up to look at him and she smiled softly. “And that’s why I’m glad I have you.”
He leaned in to kiss her, his lips claiming hers in a gentle caress. His tongue stroked lightly against her mouth, then drew back. She continued the kiss, letting her own tongue rub against his even as his hand slid down her thigh, looking for the hem of her dress.
“Pick your poison,” he said between low, deep, searing kisses. “Countertop? Living room floor? Dining room? Bathroom? Bedroom?”
“Living room,” she said breathlessly.
He grabbed her by the h*ps and hauled her against him, lifting her a foot off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her into the living room and gave her another long, sweeping kiss. “This looks like a prime lovemaking area.”
She blushed, her heart thrilling at his words.
He set her down, watched her kick off her heels. Colt frowned down at the pale yellow carpet, scuffed a heavy boot along it.
“What’s wrong?”
“This shit’s cheap as hell.”
She gave a little laugh and leaned in to kiss him again. “I can’t afford expensive.”
He shook his head. “I’m not laying you down on this crap.” His eyes gleamed. “I have a better idea.”
She liked his ideas. Her n**ples hardened. “Oh?” Her voice was husky with need.
He glanced over at the window. There were two narrow windows, rounded at the top, equally spaced apart in the small living room. “Let’s go over there,” he said, and nodded at the first one.
She moved toward it, then gave Colt a questioning look. He took her hand in his own, kissed the palm with a smile, and then placed it on the wall next to the window. Then he moved to her other side and did the same.
Her palms pressed against the wall at shoulder height. If she pushed forward, her face would press through the blinds and she could see out into the street. Sunlight streamed in through the slats in the blinds over her body, leaving stripes of light on her skin.
His hands slid over her h*ps again, and he tugged her skirt up until it bunched around her waist. The thick raw silk fabric stayed in place, and she felt his hands slide over the soft flesh of her bottom, his fingers sliding her thong down her legs. She daintily stepped out of them and looked over her shoulder at him inquiringly.
“Keep your hands on the wall, darlin’.”
“I will,” she breathed.
He knelt by her leg, kissed one thigh. “If you wanted to open the blinds…that’s entirely up to you.”
A shocked thrill raced through her. He was going to make love with her facing this window, then? And if she wanted, she could open it and show the world his body pounding into her? Her breath came in little pants, half aroused, half alarmed. Did she have the courage to do that? Did she even want to? “I…I think I want them to stay shut,” she said.
He chuckled and kissed her leg again. “That’s fine with me. I like having you all to myself.”
Her heart fluttered. He’d have shown her off if she’d wanted it, though.
His hand slid up the inside of her thigh. Her lower half was totally exposed, she realized, and he crouched behind her. “Spread your legs for me, Beth Ann.”
A tremble flashed through her, and she did, careful to keep her hands pressed on the wall.
“Wider.”
She obeyed, her legs now almost as spread as her arms. She stared at the mini blinds, her breath hitching even faster as he brushed his fingers between her legs. “Wet, but not wet enough,” he mused. She heard him shift on the ground behind her, felt his hands cup her ass. His thumb slid down the seam of it, sending an erotic thrill through her. She wanted to press her cheek to the wall and lean against it for support, but she couldn’t lean into the window. And that was part of the torture—she was exquisitely aware of where and how her body was placed.
His hands parted the cleft of her bottom and for a shocking moment, she thought he was going to touch her there. But instead, she felt his mouth on her core. Her gasp turned into a low moan of need. His tongue stroked inside her, and she felt his nose brush against her bottom. His face was…buried there. Between her legs. From behind. A bolt of pure pleasure shot through her and she moaned, her fingers digging into the wall. Oh God. The mental picture in her mind was so incredibly erotic. His tongue swiped inside her, thrusting as his c*ck would soon. She rocked her h*ps gently, moaning at the flutters of need racing through her.
Then he gave her one slow, long lick that seemed to last longer than all the others, so long that her body was shuddering when he finally dragged his tongue away. She whimpered when he dragged his fingers up and down her p**sy again. This time she was slick and hot with need, her folds silky from his mouth and her own arousal. “Much better.”
She felt his hands on her h*ps again as he stood and moved behind her. Then they moved off her again and she felt him lean in and press his c*ck against her, kissing her shoulder, even as she heard him rip a condom open.
“Colt, baby…please…” Oh heavens, she never called him baby. Would he hate that? It had just slipped out.
“I’m here,” he said softly. Then she felt him pull away for a moment—putting the condom on. A moment later, she felt his hands grasping her ass again. “Lean forward a little. Push that sweet ass out to me.”
She did, stepping backward a bit and gasping when his c*ck butted up against her heat. When had he gotten undressed? Did she even care? She wiggled backward a little more and felt the head of him sink deep. Was he holding still so she could impale herself on him? His hand tensed on her hip, and the head of his c*ck stroked inside her, a movement that made her keen with need. He thrust shallowly into her again, a mere tease.
She pushed back against him. Her hands had slid a little and she felt almost bent over in place, her bottom high as she backed up, searching for him.
On her next wiggle backward, she was rewarded with the surge of his h*ps moving forward, and he sank himself to the hilt. Beth Ann cried out at the intense sensation.
“That what you wanted, darlin’?” he asked huskily, and pumped into her slowly again, pushing until his full length was rubbing inside her.
“Yes,” she moaned, her eyes squeezed shut with the onslaught.
“You want me to push into you again? Or was that enough for you?”
God, he loved teasing her. Making her beg for more. “More,” she panted. “I need more.”
He pushed deep again, the movement slow and excruciating in its exquisiteness. Beth Ann moaned with need. He was making love to her so slowly, so sweetly, but she needed more. When he dragged his c*ck slowly out of her once more, and then just as unhurriedly sank back in again, she whimpered.
“What do you want, Beth Ann?”
“You,” she whimpered. “Harder. Faster. Please, Colt. Take me fast.”
She didn’t need to repeat it. He surged deep into her again, the force of his thrust rocking her forward on her feet and sending a tidal wave of pure pleasure through her. He thrust again, and again, his hands locked on her hips, and then she was clinging to the wall for support as he thrust into her over and over again, his hard motions rocking the two of them forward with every thrust. His skin smacked against her own, and oh God, she was so close to coming. One hand left the wall and she slipped it between her legs, brushing against her cl*t as he slammed into her.
“That’s my girl,” he rasped hoarsely. “Touch yourself.”
She did, and immediately cried out as the orgasm blew through her like a tornado. Her body clenched, hard, and she stiffened with a low, guttural moan that she wasn’t entirely sure came from her own throat.
He thrust hard twice more, rocking against her body, and then he growled her name. “Beth Ann!” and then he was coming, too, and she felt his body jerk and clench against her own stiff one.
When she came down, she panted, blinking rapidly as her surroundings came back into focus. Delicate pink claw marks marred the edges of the white painted wall where she’d clung to the sides of the window.
Colt’s body slid from hers and she felt his hands tug her skirts down, heard his zipper go up and his belt fasten. And then he was pulling her against him from behind, and kissing her neck, now damp with a sheen of sweat. “You are always incredible.”
She smiled, wrapping her arms around his and leaning back against him. An “I love you” bubbled up in her throat, and she almost blurted it out.
Then she stopped, shocked. She couldn’t be in love with Colt already, could she? Oh lord. Was she crazy? This was supposed to be an easy, casual relationship. He’d think she was rebounding hard if she started declaring love for him after only a month of dating. He needed to declare it first. Then she’d feel safe confessing her own love to him.
“Something wrong?” he asked, squeezing his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face against her throat. “Nothing,” she said lightly, hating that she had to conceal it. All that big talk about truth and here she was lying, too. “Just wondering if I should mention to Georgia that I clawed up the paint job.”
“Nah,” Colt drawled. He looked at the place, then grinned. “Probably an improvement.”
TWELVE
Beth Ann slowly spun around in the barber’s chair. She’d painted her own nails, waxed her own brows, dyed a pink streak in her own hair out of sheer boredom.
No customers.
The realization was like a sick, gnawing ache in her stomach.
She’d failed. Her business had failed. Everything she’d worked so hard for. Failed. She rose from the chair and moved to the front door, stepped outside into the autumn breeze. The Bluebonnet town square bustled with people, a few tourists enjoying the quaint shopping, locals getting their chores done. The Halloween Festival banner swayed over Main Street square, and down the street, she could see the utility building. Miranda would be working today—her volunteers never wanted to work on a Saturday. She wished her friend would come over so she could mess with someone’s hair other than her own. So it’d look like she had at least one client.
There was nothing sadder than an empty salon.
Almost against her will, she glanced down the street. Still no permanent sign over Cutz, but she could see people sitting in the waiting room, magazines in hand. Were those her clients? How on earth had that woman stolen all her clients?
What had she done that was so wrong? She hadn’t changed her prices. She hadn’t cut anyone’s hair badly or botched a nail job. Beth Ann didn’t understand it. And if she didn’t understand it, she couldn’t fix it. The sick gnawing in her stomach grew worse. The breeze picked up, leaves scattering down the busy street. The Halloween Festival was in two weeks. Soon, she’d be done with that horrible committee, and then hopefully she could avoid Allan for a few weeks.
As if thinking about him had summoned him, Allan’s shiny BMW turned down the street. She groaned and quickly headed back inside her shop. Please don’t stop here, please don’t stop here—