A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (54)

He spun in the center of the room. “Gretchen, the whole house is overboard. This is a bona fide crime.”

“Now you understand why I wanted a tree house in the woods.”

“Honey, I’m starting to understand a lot of things about you tonight.”

Which is why she couldn’t wait to leave. And in that, she felt another unwelcome kinship with Chelsea Vanderboek. This house was as haunting as the one in the book. “Okay. You’ve seen Little Gretchy’s room. Let’s go.”

“Not so fast. I’ve got a lot of research to do in here. This is like an archaeological site.”

“With nothing but embarrassing details of my past to dig up. Let’s go.” She tried again to drag him toward the door, but he pulled some kind of gentle self-defense twirl, and she ended up plastered against his chest. She fell into him with a gasp, and then every breath of oxygen escaped on an exhale at the feel of his body against hers. Her left arm was wrapped behind her, her fingers entwined with his.

She was, quite literally, his hostage.

“So . . .” His voice deepened into a sexy murmur. “Tell me about all your lonely nights in this room, Little Gretchy. How did you satisfy your rebellious goth soul?”

Her heart was chanting Lock me up, but her mouth blurted out, “I wasn’t goth.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Emo?”

“More like just a loner.”

His voice deepened even further. “And are you sure we’re alone right now?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

And just like that, he pulled another swift move, scooped her up in his arms, and started toward the bed with her.

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“I have more exploring to do.”

He had to duck his head to avoid smashing his face into the canopy frame as he deposited her on the mattress with an ungraceful toss. She bounced and protested with an oof, but in reality, she was near to self-combusting because, holy shit, she was apparently into being swept off her feet. She barely had time to scoot back before he crawled onto the bed with her. His hands and knees pressed into the mattress on either side of her, blocking her in beneath him and his hungry gaze.

Eyes that had drooped with pity just a little while ago were now wild with a ravenous need. For her.

A canyon beckoned in those eyes. She teetered on the edge of it, feeling that tug of fear and anticipation, not because she was afraid of falling but because she was afraid she’d jump. She’d made that leap before, fallen hard down into the valley of his arms, his kiss, his desire. She would’ve leaped again the other night if they hadn’t been interrupted by creative inspiration. And now, her feet were on the precipice again. Longing and desire became the oxygen in her lungs, the blood in her veins.

“What are you doing?” she whispered again.

“Wondering where to start.” He bent his elbows and burrowed his face into the curve of her neck with a deep inhale. “This might be a good place.”

Yes. That was an excellent place. His lips brushed the tender skin of her throat. Once. Twice. Then the flick of his tongue against the racing pulse point that gave away what he was doing to her.

“How about over here?” he rasped, dragging his mouth to the other side of her throat, to a spot just below her earlobe. “What secrets might I uncover here?”

The very, very dirty kind.

He nibbled with his lips, a slow crawl along her jaw, a torturous pursuit that left her panting. Her skin was on fire beneath the layers of coat and clothes between them, and if her heart pounded any harder or faster, they were going to have to dial 911.

“Or maybe here,” he murmured, his voice hot against her skin as he lowered his lips to the tip of her collarbone.

Gretchen curled her fingers into fists against the comforter. Eyes squeezed shut, she tilted her head to give him more room to keep exploring, keep digging. By the time he found the exposed curve of breasts in the open V of her shirt, she was trembling. And when he bent to lick the valley between them, she gasped out loud.

“Colton.”

“Patience,” he whispered, blowing on the skin he’d just kissed.

“That’s not one of my virtues.”

“I’ll make it worth the wait.”

“Promises, promises.”

“I promise,” he said, moving a half inch to the left. “To explore.” Another kiss. “Every inch of you.” He pulled her shirt aside, and a primal need had her arching upward, her nipple in search of his mouth, but all she got was another gentle puff of air as he blew on her.

Then his mouth landed on hers, and the decision became moot. He jumped, and she jumped with him. Gretchen wove her fingers in his thick hair and opened wide for his kiss. When he lowered fully on top of her, she spread her knees to welcome the hot, heavy pressure of him between her thighs.

“Hurry up,” she rasped. She meant for it to sound sarcastic. It came out desperate.

“This is my exploration, remember? I’m gonna do it my way.”

With agonizing slowness, he fumbled with each button, exposing more and more of her skin as he inched downward. And finally, when the last button was open, he slid her shirt wide open, rose on his elbows, and gazed down at her. His nostrils flared as he gazed at her bra, black lace over taut nipples that begged for his touch.