“Let’s get out of here,” he rasped.
We got back to Colt’s house and it felt like I’d come home. Pairs of my shoes were by the door, haphazardly strewn like I’d kicked them off in haste.
My brain went into overdrive. There was a problem with overthinking just like there was a problem with following emotions. Unfortunately that meant I lived in a weird state of limbo.
Colt talked about marriage like it was nothing. He wasn’t gun shy. We hadn’t even slept together yet and he was tossing the word around like it was just a formality, which I guess for men in his world, it was.
He’d never said he loved me. But he was ready to make me his Old Lady.
“I have to make some calls,” Colt said, setting down his keys on the table in the front hallway. I placed my keys and phone next to his.
“Will you Saran-wrap my cast? I want to shower.”
We went into the kitchen and Colt pulled out the plastic wrap and a rubber band. He leaned down to peck me on the lips. “Shower in my bathroom.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the good bathroom. Trust me.”
After he wrapped my cast, I left him to his phone calls and headed upstairs. I gathered my toiletries and a clean towel and took them into Colt’s bedroom. The furniture was solid oak, the walls a soft dove gray. The bed was huge, big enough for Colt—and me. I shivered in anticipation. I knew what would happen when we finally got together. It would be explosive and dynamic. It would make me feel everything that I’d been missing from my life.
It would bind me to him in a way I’d never been bound to another person. It would make me emotionally vulnerable, something I hadn’t allowed myself since Grammie’s death.
The bathroom had a long white counter with a sink, and there was a separate glass shower from a Jacuzzi tub. I envisioned us in that tub, surrounded by candles and bubbles.
I turned on the water in the shower, waiting for it to heat. It steamed up quickly and the water pressure was strong. I let it rain down on me, closing my eyes and turning my face into it. Halfway through washing my hair, I heard a quick knock on the door, followed by the sound of it opening.
“How’s it going in there?” he asked.
“Going,” I replied.
“Was I right? About my bathroom being better than the guest one?”
“Maybe. I thought you had calls to make,” I replied.
“I finished them.”
He waited.
I knew what he was waiting for.
“You’re killing me here.”
I inhaled a shaky breath. “You’re welcome to join me.”
I heard the thump of his boots and didn’t bother holding back a smile. A moment later, there was a cold draft of air as Colt stepped inside behind me. I turned around so I could look at him. Ink covered his tan arms, but I hardly noticed the work as my eyes drifted lower, taking in his size and breadth. Though we’d been in bed just this morning and things had happened between us, seeing him in all his nude glory was different.
He could see me, too.
All the teasing and flirting was absent. The desire that been on a simmer was now cranked up to a rolling boil.
But before I could say anything, Colt said, “Turn around.”
I did as he commanded. His hand skated up my side and the curve of my waist until he got to my neck. He brushed my wet hair off my back and trailed a finger across my shoulder blades and down my spine.
I shivered.
A few moments later, I felt him spread bubbles along my skin, working slowly and gently as he cleaned me. I wanted to moan, but I bit my lip to stifle it.