My name was written in a curly script on the right side of his chest.
Tears pricked my eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
His hands came up to caress my cheeks. “Yeah.”
“Why did you get it on the right side? Your heart is on the left.”
“The left side is for those I’ve lost. The right is for the living.”
Colt pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like whiskey and smelled like perfume. I wrenched my mouth from his.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“You smell like perfume.”
His brow unwrinkled and he smiled slightly. “It belongs to my sister. I went to see her after talking to the sheriff. Which is why I just got home now.”
“Oh.”
His humor fled and his mouth softened. “I’m a man of my word, Mia. I promised you fidelity and I meant it.”
I drove my fingers through his coffee-colored hair. “But it was so fast. Us. Our…togetherness.”
“I wasn’t a saint before you.”
I arched an eyebrow in silent admonishment, causing him to chuckle.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” I demanded.
“Were you a saint before me?”
“Of course not.”
“I’ve got thirteen years on you. I’ve had more time to sow my oats. I don’t regret my past, but I don’t miss that shit anymore either.”
“You’re not saying that just to get brownie points, are you?”
He let out a laugh. “You’re in my bed and my name is on you. I don’t need brownie points.” His hands tightened on my hips. “I don’t have any regrets about us. Do you?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” I said with a grin, letting him know I was teasing.
“Kiss me, babe.”
I leaned down and conquered his lips. I needed him. Needed to feel him, to treasure him and let him know that I was all in; through the good and bad, through whatever life was going to throw at us.
He fell back against the bed with me on top of him. Colt lifted the shirt off me, mindful of my tender skin and the new ink I sported.
His hands and mouth were everywhere, trailing up and down my body, playing with my sensitive nipples, stroking the heat between us into an out-of-control inferno.
I wiggled out of my underwear and gave him time to remove his. Then I was back on top of him, feeling the heat of him at the juncture of my thighs.
“Hold on, babe,” he whispered, his hand seeking the nightstand drawer. He grabbed a wrapper and tore it with his teeth. Colt slid on the condom and then his hands grasped my hips.
Aching and wet, I was more than ready for him. I desired to be filled, and slid down his body.
“Look at me,” he stated. Our gazes locked and it felt like something had clicked into place, something I’d been waiting my entire life to feel.