Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Mmm, you smell good,” he said.
“So do you.” I tried not to think of how much nicer this would feel with all our clothes off.
“See anything you want to check out of the library?”
“There’s a couple.”
Colton kissed the back of my neck. It sent a flurry of butterfly-shaped fireworks sparkling through my chest. I rolled my head back, shutting my eyes as Colton’s grip around me tightened.
“I used to spend a lot of time here as a kid. But mostly playing on my Game Boy. Archie would take it from me sometimes, but he’d never come to the library, so I started to come here just to play.”
“Archie’s a little bit of a dick, huh?”
Colton huffed. “He’s gotten better, but yeah. We’ve had our issues.”
He planted another kiss on my neck. I never realized just how good lips back there could feel. “When did he get into the drugs and gambling?” I asked, wanting to paint a clear timeline but getting my thoughts scrambled as Colton’s hands shifted lower.
“Around the time of my parents’ divorce, right? Took him three to get back on his feet. Now he’s got that tech company with Wendy and seems to be doing great.”
“When did Wendy come into the picture?”
Colton’s lips grazed my skin again. He spoke against me, the vibrations of his voice rocking through me. “I don’t really know. I think they met in rehab, actually.”
“Hmm, interesting,” I said, even though I couldn’t focus on anything Colton was telling me now that I could feel him getting hard against me. I turned around, keeping his arms around me. He looked up into my eyes, his blue orbs swirling with a kind of magic I didn’t think I’d ever grow tired of. The spell was cast; I was his now.
“You’re so fucking handsome,” I said, tracing the lines of his jaw with my thumb. His cock twitched against mine, both of us not being shy about how turned on we were. I licked my lips, entranced by this beautiful man. He was all sharp angles and soft lips and bright eyes, his hard cock pushing against my thigh as he leaned in and kissed me again. I released a moan, the sound rising from my chest and being swallowed by Colt. His hands dropped to my ass. He squeezed, and I gave him another moan, our lips locked and our bodies fitting together.
I wanted to meld with him, become one with him. I needed him to ride me, needed to feel myself buried deep inside him. I needed—
A sound made us jerk backward. It was a voice. Macy again? No, it sounded younger, and the person was just outside the window, speaking in whispers. Colton looked at me and mouthed, “Who is that?”
I shrugged. All I wanted was to get Colton to the bedroom, where I planned on tearing off his clothes and worshipping every inch of his body until the sun came up. I grabbed his hand and was about to pull him out of the room when something else caught my attention. Whoever was whispering wasn’t speaking English.
It sounded Italian… but who here spoke Italian, and why now?
Instead of tugging Colton toward the exit, I put a finger to my lip and tiptoed toward the window instead.
25
COLTON COOPER
“Sì, sono qui, Lito. No, non abbiamo ancora letto il testamento.”
I cocked my head as Eric and I crouched together by the window. I mouthed out “Wendy,” surprised at her fluency in Italian. I didn’t know all that much about my brother’s wife, but this fact surprised me.
“Okay, okay. Ti chiamo domani. Bye, ti amo.”
Wendy hung up the call, the sound of her footsteps tapping against the concrete growing more and more distant.
I looked down, realizing Eric had been recording the conversation. I could have kissed him. In fact, I decided I should kiss him. I leaned in, pressing my lips against his, my hand falling on his knee so that I didn’t tip over.
“What’s that for?” Eric said, smiling as we both stood back up.
“For being my boyfriend.”
His smile widened, matching mine. It sounded good: boyfriend. I didn’t think it’d be something I’d be calling Eric, not when I first bumped into him in that coffee shop, my walls still high and seemingly impenetrable after my last shitty relationships. I should have known Eric would have no trouble barreling right through my defenses. This “fake” situation we had set up was never really fake, and I could see that now. The butterflies that fluttered to life every time he was around was impossible to fake. We had too much shared history between us, too many warm memories, the kind that out shadowed the shittier moments.
And he apologized. It was all I ever really needed from him. An acknowledgment of the pain he’d caused me and a reasoning behind it. I had known him and his dad had been incredibly close, so I always assumed he might have had something to do with how Eric pushed me away, but hearing the entire story erased any residual hurt I was still holding on to from that lightning-filled night.