Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(52)

So he commenced to tug me down the corridor of the student union. When we passed a closed door with an electronic sign next to it stating its next use wouldn’t be until Friday, I tightened my grip on his hand to get his attention.

Colton glanced back and then followed my gaze to the door when I gave a silent tip of my head toward it. His gaze lit with interest before he reached out to jiggle the handle.

And holy f*ck, it actually opened.

He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I gulped and nodded, and he led me inside. Two slim tall windows hugged either side of the entrance, but a person wouldn’t be able to see the entire room from the outside if they were trying to peek in.

After Colton eased the door shut, he whispered, “There’s a lock,” and flipped it.

He squeezed his grip supportively around my hand and led me to the one corner where absolutely no one could see in. All it contained was a sturdy wall and a red carpeted floor. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh because my nerves were going wild. Giggling was a super bad habit of mine when I was this wound up with excitement and apprehension.

“Colton,” I whispered, touching my hand tentatively to his back, the warmth of his flesh immediately soaking through the cloth to greet my fingers. I wasn’t really trying to get his attention, I just felt the need to say his name.

But he turned to me, his grin radiating so much happiness his entire face freaking glowed. A part of me was actually too intimidated to touch all that beauty while the rest of me wanted to overindulge.

He reached for my cheek, and I panicked.

“Wait, uh…!” I gulped and shook my head. Ohmigod, this was really happening.

“What’s wrong?” He dropped his hand, and his brow crinkled with worry.

“Nothing.” I sucked in more air and smoothed my bangs out of my eyes. “I just…we need to set some conditions first.”

Yeah, that sounded good.

“Conditions?” He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of conditions?”

“Like...” I bit my lip and winced. “I’m not sure how to word this.” Mostly because I wasn’t even sure what to say. I was stalling because I was suddenly scared.

“It’s okay. Just say it. What am I not allowed to do?” His shoulders slumped as if he thought I was reneging on the deal already.

Unable to disappoint him, especially when I knew I didn’t want out—at all—I was only freaking a bit, I clutched his arm. “No, nothing like that. Just…actually it’s the opposite,” I added when I realized there was a condition I would like added to our deal. “I want...I want...”

His eyebrows lifted. “You want...?”

“No, I guess it’s something I don’t want. I don’t want either of us,” meaning him, “to turn down any new ideas offhand, like...I don’t know. I’m just asking you to be open-minded to suggestions that might not be your norm, and maybe testing them out first before vetoing something offhand.”

“Oh, I’m definitely open to suggestions.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. “But now I gotta know what kind of kinky ideas you have stirring around in that amazing brain of yours.”

I frowned at the salacious grin he had going on. “I didn’t say I had kinky ideas, necessarily.”

He immediately stopped grinning.

I huffed out a frustrated breath. “I just don’t want to build this up in my head only for you to be a three-pump, missionary-position-only kind of guy.”

He tipped his head thoughtfully. “You don’t like missionary?”

I flushed. “No. I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I just—”

Grinning, he set two fingers against my lips. “Baby doll, do I really seem like I’m only into vanilla sex to you?”

“No,” I admitted, feeling foolish for even bringing the issue up. My shoulders relaxed.

His smile spread so wide and beautifully I felt blinded and consumed by it. “Trust me,” he assured me. “As long as my dick ends up inside you, you can Kama Sutra me any way you like.”

I nodded and blew out a breath. “Good.”

He stepped in closer, making me catch my breath. Why did his nearness always make my heart beat faster and my breathing go crazy?

“My turn. Condition number one—”

“Wait. What?” I flashed my gaze to his face. “You have conditions?”

He shrugged. “Why not? You did.”

“But I...okay…I guess.” Inside, I tensed, worried what kind of regulation he was going to put on me.

“You can’t bite your lip when you come this time.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“At the wedding, when you came…” I flushed because I’d never discussed sex so openly with a guy before. But then… most of the stuff I’d discussed with Colton was confidential. I rarely—if ever—shared that kind of shit with anyone, so I guess it made sense to open up more with him about this too. “…You fought it the entire way through.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You locked your muscles, hid your face, and I know you bit this lip.” He reached out and softly slid his finger over my bottom lip as if to ease it from the bite I’d given it nearly two weeks before. Without telling myself to, I swiped out my tongue to taste the salty flavor of his finger.