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He’s a wall of rugged man, and I have to tilt my head a little in order to take all of him in. With a faded black t-shirt revealing a tanned neck, scruffy dark curls, and a short beard with a bit of salt and pepper gray in it.
This day can go fuck itself. I’d like the ground to swallow me up whole, thank you very much.
We sit like that for a long moment. Me talking this stranger through a panic attack while planning multiple ways to murder my own son.
Christ, if he’s Kayce’s dad, then that means he’s old enough to be my father.
“Go easy on me, ok?” Layla breathes. I don’t know what comes over me, but as I help swing her up into the saddle, the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I promise, I can be gentle.”
Whereas I needed an entire week to recover after a single night out. I’d enjoy myself, absolutely, but it was afterward that I’d gladly crawl inside my shell and stay there, not leaving my apartment unless absolutely necessary. Or until my next shift arrived.
“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t beat your skull in for harassing my staff, Pierson.”
“Go to bed, Layla.”
Lord have mercy
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she murmurs. Little does this girl know, she could never. “You won’t. Now, just take a deep breath for me, baby.”
Colt drops down onto his haunches and grabs my chin. Yanking me to face him, which makes me yelp. His grip is rough and demanding, and it honestly shocks me a little to feel his touch.
But then the snow crunches beneath his heavy weight and the next moment he’s lying beside me.
He positions himself with his arms wrapping my body from behind.
Omg
My body is a traitorous little bitch, who starts to preen and swoon and heat up as his weight shifts at my back.
Girl same
“Good girl.” Colt’s rich voice and warm lips are right at my ear.
Lo and behold, I’m a slut for my ex’s father, and I failed that class. Miserably.
“You’ll need this.” I take my hat off and drop it on her head. It’s a little big for her, and even though she looks gorgeous in anything, fuck me, the sight of her wearing my jet-black hat sends a rush of blood to my dick. She reaches up to touch the brim, readjusting it slightly on her head, and her green eyes sparkle. Which is why I don’t even bother trying to explain why I just did what I did, yet still hop back in the cab feeling like a fucking king.
Even if she’s not my girl, I can at least lay a claim on her so no asshole around town dares to look twice her way.
Because the words I want to say and what I’m actually allowed to say aren’t fucking compatible.
“That’s enough. We’re fucking leaving.”
Ahhhhhhh
“Then tell me why every night is a battle, Layla. Tell me why I have to damn near lock my own door.” “Why would you—” His gritty noise cuts me off. “Because I’m in so much trouble when it comes to you. Tell me why the fuck I’m spending every night talking myself out of visiting the bedroom just down the hall of the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, just to see how she tastes.”
Colt lets out a groan mixed with a growl, and my breathy words are hardly out of me before his hand dives into my hair. “Fuck it.” His mouth crashes against mine.
Colt tastes like the crisp night air and glow of the fire rolled into one. I can’t breathe as he holds me against him, and everything feels so fucking good. His body is so solid and powerful pressing against me.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Look at you, baby.” He lets out a low growl. “Jesus Christ. The things I want to do to you.”
I’ll be sure to fill all the horses in tomorrow on how much of a grouchy dickhead their owner is. I’m pretty sure they’re all on my side by now, anyway.
“You touch a man’s hat, you’re either planning to fight them or fuck them. So, which do you want with me, cowboy?”
“Baby, I want to taste you.” Kiss. “Fuck you.” Lick. “Consume you.” Bite.
“But I’m going insane with the need to have you, angel. So you tell me what you want. I’ll take whatever fucking crumbs you’re willing to throw on the floor.”
“God. Colt. I don’t know if it’s going to fit.”
I’m all giddy over a certain cowboy who is nearly twice my age and my ex-boyfriend’s father.
No, it’s nothing remotely connected to that. If I had to put a word to it, it’s the sense of ownership. There’s something feral and fucking primal in knowing I’ll have marked her in a way that I haven’t ever done before, and holy shit, if that doesn’t trigger a beast inside me that has no right to be there.
“A cowboy in a cap? That’s sexy. Hit me with the backward cap? You’ve got me wherever you want me.”
But right now, I’ll let her watch me work and know she’s keeping warm. Apparently, I’m an old fucking fool and have developed an addiction to having her eyes on me.
