Fueled (Driven, #2)(11)
And then there’s the down side to our whole bathtub time. His admission that his average shelf life with a woman is four or five months. Shit. Tawny might be right. He’s going to get bored with me and my lack of bedroom prowess. I shrug away the notion time is running out for me. The thought causes my breath to catch and panic to fill my every nerve. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose how I feel when I’m with him. He means too much to me already, and that’s with me trying to be reserved in my emotions.
Jared Leto sings about being closer to the edge. I close my eyes thinking how I already have both feet over and beyond that edge that Colton has explicitly explained he does not want to teeter on. But how can I not plummet off it when he makes me feel so incredibly good. I try to rationalize that it’s just the incredible—and it’s mind-blowingly incredible—sex that’s making me feel these insane feelings after only knowing each other for three weeks. And I know that sex does not equate love.
I need to remind myself of this. Over and over and over to prevent the fall.
But his words, his actions, tell me that I’m just more than an arrangement to him. They all flicker through my head—different things over the past three weeks—and I just can’t see him not thinking that there are definite possibilities here. If not, then he has me fooled.
Matt Nathanson’s voice fills the air around me, and I hum along to Come on Get Higher, my thoughts scattered and disjointed, but oddly content.
“Voila!”
I open my eyes to see Colton lower a plate onto the table beside me, and when I see its contents, I laugh loudly. “It’s perfect, sir, and I so appreciate the depths of your fine culinary skills.” I reach over and take a bite of my toasted bagel and cream cheese and moan dramatically in appreciation. “Delicious!”
He bows theatrically, obviously pleased with himself, and plops down beside me. “Thank you. Thank you.” He laughs, grabbing a half off of the plate and taking a large bite of it. He leans back on an elbow, washboard abs bare and board shorts riding low on his hips. The sight of him is enough of a meal in itself.
We eat, playfully teasing each other, and I silently wonder what’s next. As much as I don’t want to, I think I need to get home and put some distance between the two of us before the night we’ve spent together and the feelings it solidified accidentally come stumbling out of my mouth.
“I told you to leave them,” Colton says from behind me as I wash the dish in my hand. “Grace will get them or I’ll clean them up later.”
“It’s no biggie.”
“Yes it is,” he whispers into my neck, sending an electric pulse straight to my sex as he slides his arms around my waist and pulls me backwards against him.
God, how I could get used to this. I’m grateful he can’t see the look on my face that I’m sure is one of complete satisfaction. Adoration. Contentment.
“Thank you, Rylee.” His voice is so quiet I almost miss the words over the noise of the water.
“It’s one dish and a knife, Colton. Really.”
“No, Rylee. Thank. You.” His words are swamped with sentiment—a man drowning in unfamiliar emotions.
I set the plate down and turn off the water so I can hear him. So I can allow him the moment to express whatever it is he needs to say. I may not be very experienced when it comes to men, but I know enough that in the rare instances that they want to talk about feelings or emotions, it’s time to be quiet and listen.
“For what?” I ask casually.
“For this morning. For letting me work through my shit the way I needed to. For letting me use you for lack of a better term.” He moves my ponytail off of the back of my neck and places a soft kiss there. “For letting me have mine and for you not complaining when you didn’t get yours.”
His words, the thoughtfulness behind them, has me biting my lip to prevent me from making that verbal pitfall I was worried about earlier. I take a second to think of my next words so I don’t take that stumble. “Well, you more than made up giving me mine in the bathtub.”
“Oh really?” He nuzzles that sensitive spot just beneath my ear that drives me crazy. “That’s good to know, but I still think I might need to further remedy the unsettled situation from earlier.”
“Really?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You are insatiable, Colton.” I laugh, turning in his arms to have my lips captured in a tantalizing kiss that funnels sparks all the way to the tips of my toes. His hands map themselves down my torso and over my backside, pressing me into him.
“Now let’s talk about that image I can’t get out of my head of you with a whip and wearing only bright red stilettos.” The wicked smile on his lips has the heat flowing from my toes back up.
“Ahem!” The clearing of a throat has me jumping back from Colton like I’ve been singed by fire.
I snap my head up, warmth burning through my cheeks when I hear Colton shout out, “Hey, old man!” and then embrace whoever it is in a huge bear hug. They have turned, hugging so fiercely that I can only see Colton’s face, his pleasure evident.
I catch murmured words in gruff tones as they hold on to each other, hands slapping each other’s backs, and when I think I know who it is, my blush deepens at the knowledge that he overheard what Colton had said to me. My hunch is confirmed when the two break apart and the visitor places a hand on the side of Colton’s face and stares at him intently, concern etched on his face over something he sees in his son’s eyes.