Page 85 of Driven (Driven 1)
I still when I really hear them, his silent admission speaking volumes to me. Holy shit! Does this mean that he means there is a possibility of more? That whatever we are is more than just one of his stupid arrangements? I can sense his unease that the vulnerability his words have caused him so I try to add some humor to relieve him.
“What? You don’t drag all of your wenches to this hideous lair of yours?”
He reaches out, a quiet smile on his lips that reflects in his eyes, and cups my neck, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. “Just the one,” he replies. I smile back at him, adoring the tender side of Colton as much as I love the stubborn, feisty one. He lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a long pull on it. “I brought up some dessert,” he offers.
“Really? I thought that’s what we just had.” His smile spreads and eyes widen at the comment and a carefree laugh escapes his lips.
“C’mon,” he tugs on my arm and pulls me down to sink into one of the chaise lounges. Colton walks over to a console hidden in the wall and within seconds, the voice of Ne-Yo sings softly from the speakers around us. I hear Baxter groan in satisfaction as he plops his large body down in the open doorway of the hallway.
“So,” he says as he scoots a table next to me, “I have two options for you. Mint chocolate chip ice cream or chocolate kisses.”
“You remembered!” I gasp at him, surprised that such a little thing as him remembering my two admitted vices from his questions at the carnival would mean so much to me.
“I aim to please, sweetheart.” He smirks as he puts a hand on my back urging me to sit up, and then slides himself behind me.
I lean back into his bare chest, fitting myself to him, and reach out at the tray to grab a Hershey’s kiss. I unwrap it and pop it in my mouth, laying my head back onto his shoulder and groan at its heavenly taste.
“If that’s all it takes to hear you make that sound, I’m buying you a truckload of them,” he breathes in my ear as he moves behind me, adjusting himself.
“Want one?” I tease as I bring it to his lips and then take it away and put it in my mouth, moaning purposefully this time. He laughs and I give him a Hershey kiss for real this time. “A girl could get used to this,” I murmur, liking the warmth of him against me.
We sit for a while and talk idly about this and that: families, travels, experiences, and work. I avoid the topic that I really want to delve into, knowing that his past is off limits. He is funny and witty and attentive and I can feel myself falling deeper and tangling myself further in his tantalizing web.
“Awesome, charismatic, and exciting,” Colton says breaking the silence between us.
I can’t help from laughing out loud at yet another attempt at finding out the meaning behind Ace. “Nope,” I say again, leaning back further into the warmth and comfort of his chest. I can feel his soft chuckle through my back.
“You’re never going to tell me are you?” he asks lifting a hand to brush hair off the side of my neck, exposing my bare skin so that his mouth can lace a kiss there.
“Nope,” I repeat again, fighting the shiver that runs through me as he nuzzles his nose down to my ear.
“How about addictive cock experience?” he murmurs, his breath tickling over my skin and chasing the path of vibrations his voice has left.
The laugh that bubbles in my throat falls silent to a sigh as he nips at my earlobe and sucks gently on the hollow spot just beneath it. “Hmmmm, that could work,” I manage as he wraps his arms around my chest, and I begin to run my fingers
up and down the parts of his arms that I can reach. I angle my head further to the side, giving him more access to my expanse of sensitive skin when my nails cross a jagged line on his right forearm.
“That’s a nasty scar.” I murmur. “What super-masculine thing were you doing to acquire that?” I cringe at the thought of how much that must have hurt.
He’s quiet for a beat, kissing my temple and pressing his face to the side of mine so that I can feel him swallow in response. “Nothing of significance,” he says then falls quiet again. “Do you surf, Rylee?” he asks, and I’m not blind to the subtle change of subject.
“Nope. Do you, Ace?” I take a sip of wine as he murmurs in assent.
“Ever tried?” he asks, the rasp of his voice in my ear.
“Uh-uh.”
“I should teach you sometime,” he offers.
“Probably not the best thing to do for someone like me who’s scared of sharks.”
“You’re kidding, right?” When I don’t respond, he continues, “Oh come on, it’d be fun. There aren’t any sharks out there that’ll bug you.”
“Tell that to the people who’ve been chomped on,” I challenge and despite the fact that he’s behind me, I cover my face in embarrassment when I timidly speak my next words. “When I was little I was so scared of them that I never swam in our pool because I used to think they’d come out of the drain and eat me.”
Colton laughs, his deep tone reverberating into me from his chest at my back. “Oh, Rylee, didn’t anyone ever tell you that there are much more dangerous things on dry land?”
Yes. You.
