Colters' Woman (Colters' Legacy #1)(31)

The slap of his hips against her ass filled the bathroom, the soft sucking noise made louder by the wetness of their bodies.

The buildup was nearly painful in its intensity. Fire raged in her groin and spread rapidly to her stomach and br**sts. Every muscle in her body tightened and clenched.

“Let go, sweetheart, come with me,” Ethan growled in her ear.

He thrust harder, in the throes of his own release. She felt the hot jet of se**n burst from his cock, and she fell right over the cliff into oblivion.

His arm curled around her, under her br**sts, holding her up and against him so she wouldn’t fall. He was seated deeply within her, and her body shook with the force of her orgasm.

Her head lolled forward, sliding down the wet surface of the shower wall. She put out her hands to brace herself, her breath coming in heavy gasps.

They were going to kill her.

She felt him slide out of her, felt the warm rush of cum run down her legs. Then he lifted her, turned her around and held her close to his chest.

“I love you.”

The words murmured against her hair made her stiffen in surprise. Had she heard him correctly?

She pulled her head away and looked up into his eyes. They burned with desire, but they gleamed with something else. Love.

Thick emotion knotted in her throat. Tears burned her eyelids and threatened to spill over the rims. She didn’t know what to say, how to respond. But she knew he meant it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll,” he said gently.

He washed her, tenderly covering every spot on her body. Then he shampooed her hair and rinsed it for her.

When he was finished, he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, reaching his hand back for her. He wrapped a big fluffy towel around her then hugged her to him, holding her tightly for several long seconds.

She felt ridiculously giddy, and yet hesitant. She felt compelled to return the sentiment, tell him she loved him too, but the words stuck in her throat. She wasn’t ready yet, wasn’t sure exactly of the depth of her feelings, and more than anything, she wanted to get this right.

Chapter Twelve

Holly felt deliciously sore and drowsy as she left the bathroom with Ethan. Love. He loved her. It didn’t seem possible even though he’d all but told her it would happen.

They joined the others in the kitchen where Adam was standing by the stove. Ryan sat on a barstool drinking a beer.

She walked over to Adam and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his back. He stiffened—in surprise?—for the briefest moment before turning around in her arms.

He smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head.

“You seem happy,” he said.

Her cheeks grew warm and a ridiculous smile attacked her face.

“I am.”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers then bent to kiss her. His lips moved possessively over hers. His tongue pressed inward, tasting her, laying claim to her mouth.

He slowly released her. “Have a seat. Supper will be ready in a few minutes.”

She floated over to where Ryan and Ethan sat and took the stool between them.

As Adam puttered around the kitchen, laying out the plates and glasses, Holly decided to broach the subject of her usefulness.

“I was thinking,” she began.

The men turned their attention to her.

“That is I was wondering what it is I could do to help out. I mean, if I’m not going to be a guest, that is, I’m going to stay.”

She took a deep breath and cursed her insecurity.

“Holly,” Ethan said, his tone slightly reprimanding. “We want you here. We want you to stay. This is your home. I realize it might take you a while to get used to things, but there is no need to dance around any subject, nor is there any need for you not to embrace your status here.”

She smiled and ducked her head. “At any rate, I wondered what I could do to help.”

“There’s always something that needs to be done,” Adam said with a shrug. “At present, we divide chores and responsibilities. We’d be glad to have the help.”

“I can’t cook,” she blurted, embarrassed by the admission. She felt hopelessly inadequate. Her upbringing hadn’t trained her to do much.

“No one said you had to cook,” Ryan said calmly.

“I could learn,” she added quickly.

Adam plunked down the platter of chicken fried steak on the bar and stared at her. “Holly, we don’t want a domestic slave. You’re here as our wife. Our mate. The mother of our children. We managed fine on our own. We can cook just fine. If you want to help out in other ways, I’m sure we can come up with something.”

Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “I’m making a mess of things, aren’t I?”

Adam sat down and passed the platter over to Ethan.

“You’re uptight,” Adam said gently. “We just want you to be happy. Relax. You don’t have to do anything right now. Let’s concentrate on freeing you from your current marriage so the bastard has no claim on you. Everything else will fall into place.”

“When do we go to Denver?” she asked, grateful to change the subject.

“Day after tomorrow. I’ve arranged for Riley to come in and feed the horses while we’re gone. We’ll drive down, check into a hotel, then see Cal the next morning.”