Fueled (Driven, #2)(26)
I can’t help my eyes from snapping up to his with the comment. Our universal guy speak for sticking with one woman. For thinking of more than just sex without strings. For f*cking without a condom because you have complete trust in the other person.
For being *-whipped.
Neither of us have ever barebacked. Ever. Kind of a silent solidarity we have between us. Neither of us that is, until now.
“Motherf*cker!” Becks jumps up in his seat. “You are, aren’t you, you cocksucker!”
“Shut the f*ck up, Beckett.” I growl as I toss back the rest of my beer and raise my empty shot glass up to Connie who hasn’t stopped waiting attentively five feet away. Becks just sits and looks at me in silence until the newest round of shots are placed in front of us. I sit and stare back at him a while longer and let my comment settle between us, get comfortable rolling the idea around in my head…and then it hits me.
Fuck yes, I want Ry to go with us. Now what the f*ck does that mean? I throw back the shot, hissing at its burn before scrubbing my hand over my face as numbness spreads into my lips. Beckett keeps looking at me like I’m some kind of circus show freak. I can tell he’s biting his cheek to keep from grinning at me, from saying the shit that’s flying through his eyes at a lightning pace.
He holds his hand up to his ear and leans over the table. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. What the f*ck was your answer?”
I can’t help the grin that pulls up one corner of my mouth. This is being tame for Beckett, so I’m grateful that he’s keeping himself in check against my obvious discomfort.
“Well f*ck me!” he says, shifting in his chair to stare at me for a little while longer with disbelief on his face. He looks down at his watch. “Well, if we’re going to take off on time, loverboy, we best be going.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?” I ask incredulously.
“I haven’t even started yet, Wood! I need time to process…it’s not every day Hell falls below zero.”
Fine by me. If I can get away with only that being said right now, I’ll take it. I nod my head at him and start typing away on my phone. “I’m texting Sammy to come get us.” I tell him. The background music in the bar is playing, and I laugh at the f*cking song playing. Of course it’s Pink. Rylee and her f*cking Pink. I send my text to Sammy and then hover over her name on my phone. Before I know it, I’ve entered a quick one to Rylee as well.
I’m in this far, might as well go balls deep.
“You really said that to him?” Haddie asks incredulously, the look on her face over-exaggerated and hilariously funny.
“I swear!” I told her, holding up my hand in testament. I look down at my phone where a text just pinged. It’s from Colton, and all it says is: Get this Party Started – Pink.
Haddie doesn’t notice the odd look on my face when I read it because she is concentrating on filing her nails. What the hell? First the text about Matchbox Twenty today, which threw me for a loop, and now this? He’s a little all over the place and a lot confusing.
“Shit! I’d have loved to see his face when you shut that door.”
“I know.” I laugh. “It felt kind of good to leave him stunned for once rather than the other way around.”
“See, I told you!” she says, pushing on my knee.
“Besides the testosterone fest with Colton, did you and Tanner have a nice visit?”
“Yeah.” I smile softly. “It was so good to see him. I don’t realize how much I miss him until—” a knock on the door interrupts me. I look over at Haddie, my eyes asking her who could be knocking on our door at seven o’clock on a Friday night.
“No clue.” She shrugs, getting up to answer it since I have a slew of work papers strewn across my lap and on the couch beside me.
Moments later I hear laughter and voices and Haddie exclaiming, “Well look what the cat dragged in!”
Curious, I start to clear my papers when Haddie enters the family room, a broad smile on her face. “Someone’s here to see you,” she says, a knowing look in her eyes.
Before I can ask her who it is, Colton comes barreling into the room in a less than graceful stride with a laughing Beckett right behind him. Something’s amiss with Colton, and I’m not sure what it is until he sees me. A goofy grin spreads across his face and it looks out of place against the intensity of his features. Luckily, I’m shuffling up my papers because he unceremoniously plops down right beside me.
“Rylee!” he exclaims enthusiastically as if he hasn’t seen me in weeks. He reaches out, calloused fingers rasping against my bare skin, grabs me, and pulls me onto his lap. All I can do is laugh because I realize that Mr. Cool and Always in Control is a tad bit drunk. No, make that well on his way to being drunk. And before I can even respond to his sudden appearance, Colton’s mouth closes over mine.
I resist at first, but once his tongue delves into my mouth and I taste him, I’m a goner. I groan in acceptance and lick my tongue against his. It’s only been a few days but God, I missed this. Missed him. I forget that other people are in the room when Colton tangles his hand in my hair and takes possession of me, holding me so all I can do is react. All I can do is absorb the feeling of him against me. He tastes of beer and mints and everything I want. Everything I crave. Everything I need. I bow my back so my chest presses to his, my nipples tingling as they brush against the firm warmth of his chest. Colton swallows the moan he’s coaxed from me when his arousal pushes up through my thin pajama pants and rubs against me.