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I fell asleep, my face pressed into Colt’s pillow. Sometime in the middle of the night, I felt him slide into bed next to me. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me against him. I turned my head and his lips captured mine. His tongue swept inside my mouth. I sighed, loving the hard feel of him at my back.

He brushed the hair off my neck and pressed a kiss to my nape before hugging me tighter.

Morning light filtered through the small window of the clubhouse bedroom. I was nestled against Colt, his large hand cupping my breast.

Warm lips grazed my collarbone that peeked out from Colt’s T-shirt. “Mornin’,” he whispered. His brown eyes were dark and clear, his stubble thick.

I rolled over so I could face him. There was something intimate about this morning. Maybe because we cleared the air last night and some of my concerns had been addressed. I didn’t know how any of this was going to go, but Colt had promised me fidelity.

“I don’t remember you coming to bed.”

“I was only gone an hour and a half,” he said in amusement. “You couldn’t even stay awake long enough to wait for me.”

“Adrenaline dump. I was wiped. What were you doing?” I asked.

“I was getting Bianca out of the clubhouse. And then I made an announcement that my room is now off limits. And I got pulled into club shit and had a few beers with the guys.”

My arms enveloped his neck and I slipped my leg between his, feeling his erection against me.

His hands wormed their way into the front of my underwear so he could stroke bare skin. “I like you in my shirt.”

Colt’s fingers splayed across my flesh, igniting my desire. I rolled into him, forcing him onto his back. He hauled me on top of him so I could straddle his waist. His chest was uncovered, and my eyes greedily drank in the artwork on him.

“You’re beautiful,” I said softly. I leaned down to press my lips against his left pectoral, my mouth covering the two sets of numbers over his heart.

I had a guess for what they meant—the dates of his parents’ deaths.

“I need to see you,” he whispered, his hands grabbing the bottom of the T-shirt and slowly pulling it up over my head.

I sat astride him, topless, in the morning sunlight. His brown eyes were hooded with desire and his hands reached out to caress my aching breasts.

“Christ,” he muttered, his fingers twisting my nipples into hard points. “I knew once I saw these I’d be done for.”

I laughed softly. “Are you a breast man? Or an ass man?”

One hand slid away from my breast to press against the small of my back while the other gently grabbed my hair to tug me toward his mouth.

“I’m ayouman.” His lips took mine in a ravenous kiss. Our tongues fought, inflaming my desire. I took a deep breath and grew dizzy from the scent of him. Warm skin, sensual eyes, his body primed and ready to take mine.

God, I wanted him.

I cradled him between the juncture of my thighs as I gently ground against him.

He tore his mouth from mine, his teeth sinking into the skin of my neck.

“Closer. Lean over me.”

I scooted up his body so that my breasts were level with his mouth. His velvet tongue stroked my nipple before taking it with his lips. Liquid heat singed my core. The throbbing between my thighs made me spread my legs, wanting more friction, wanting more of Colt.

“Bet you’re like hot, wet silk.” His eyes were on me. “Should I find out?”

I nodded eagerly.

His hand pushed aside my panties to cup the heat of me. He teased my folds and then slid one huge finger inside my body.

I couldn’t stop the shudder.

“Hot as fuck,” he growled.


Tags: Emma Slate Blue Angels Motorcycle Club Romance