Guilty Needs(40)

I got Colby to leave for a little while. Bree’s on her way over and I need some privacy for this. Can’t exactly have him lurking around while I ask this, right? I don’t think he’d understand me telling her that I want her to hook up with him.

“Colby…”

He stood up, stalked around the desk. Instinctively, she backed away, her hand falling to her side, the journal hanging from her fingers.

“So I guess me coming back made it a little easier for you to keep that promise.”

Bree took a breath and said, “Colby, listen.”

He shook his head. “Nothing really to listen to, is there? It’s the truth, right? At first, I had to hear you admit it, but I can tell just by looking at you. So what have I been? Was it all for Alyssa? Did you ever feel a damn thing for me? Did I even rate a pity f*ck or was it all for her?”

Colby stood close now, too close. The heat of his fury all but scalded her, yet she was still cold—cold to the core.

“She’s dead, you know. She wouldn’t have known if you kept the promise or not. I’ve gotta admire the loyalty, Bree, but don’t you think you’re taking friendship a little too far?”

Words—damn it, they were lodged in her throat. She could explain this. Hell, she understood why he was so pissed. She would be too. But he had it wrong—damn it, did he have it wrong. She swallowed the knot, tried to speak, even though her vocal cords felt frozen. “Loyalty doesn’t have anything to do with this, Colby.”

“Doesn’t it? Your best friend is worried about her husband, pathetic shy bastard that he is, and she doesn’t want him to be alone. So she just decides you’d make a good match, a nice little sacrificial lamb.”

Narrowing her eyes, she snapped, “I’m not a lamb, pal. Sacrificial or otherwise. And you’re not pathetic. You need to just chill out and listen to me—”

He reached out and hauled her against him, muffling her startled yelp with a hard, cruel kiss. Against her mouth, he rasped, “No, I just need to go ahead and just take whatever in the f*ck you’re giving me.”

His hand fisted in her long skirt, jerked it up until he could palm the naked flesh of her ass. His thigh forced its way between hers and despite herself, despite her growing outrage, her body reacted. Heat boiled through her as he rubbed his jeans-clad leg against the mound of her sex.

If he hadn’t said anything—but he did. And probably it was a good thing. His voice was a hard slap, jerking her back to reality, even as he reached between her thighs and cupped her, pushing two fingers into her wet *. “You really do commit yourself, don’t you? You don’t just hook up with me, you get wet when I touch you. You come and scream and beg for more. Way to get into it, sugar.”

Recoiling, she tried to pull away from him. He spun them around, trapping her up against his desk. The wood felt cold under her bottom as he lifted her up onto it and stepped between her thighs. Bree shoved her hands against his chest. “Let me go, Colby.”

“Why? Isn’t this what you’re supposed to be doing? Making me feel better? Comforting me? Taking care of me? Whatever in the f*ck it was you agreed to?” he snarled, lifting his head just enough to glare down at her.

But when he would have crushed his mouth back to hers, she averted her head. He fisted a hand in the short strands of her hair, forced her mouth back to his. The taste of him, the feel of his body moving against hers—it was almost enough to drown out the voice screeching in the back of her head. Almost. He reached between them, the backs of his fingers brushing against her * as he unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down.

The rasping sound of it was unbelievably harsh—too harsh, too loud. Time slowed to a crawl, each second dragging out and lasting what seemed like forever. The temperature in the room dropped and even with the furnace-like heat his body threw off, Bree was freezing. Something whispered in her ear.

A voice. But it was indistinct, muffled—more like listening to somebody speaking in another room. It was surreal, surreal enough to drag her more completely back to herself and she jerked away as Colby shifted, pushing her thighs wider.

No.

She swallowed, reached up, unsure whether she was going to shove him away and pull him close. But he already owned so much of her. He had her heart, though she knew she couldn’t ever tell him, not after this. He had her soul. But he’d never believe her.

She’d be damned if she let him claim her self-respect too.

Reaching deep, she found the strength of will to push against his chest as he pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of her body. He slid inside—just the first few inches—and as she locked her arms and shoved, he went still. His eyes glittered at her from under his lashes and somehow, behind the fury, she saw the pain. But she couldn’t give in. If this happened—f*ck, she was already destroyed—but if this happened, it was going to destroy him. She could forgive him. He’d never hurt her physically and she loved him enough to let him take whatever he needed from her and she’d give it freely.

But when his fury cooled, even if he still thought she was just acting out Alyssa’s wishes, he’d look back at what had happened and he’d never forgive himself.

“Don’t do this, Colby.”

He reached up, caught one hand, dragged her wrist behind her back and stepped closer, forcing another inch of his rigid penis inside her vagina. Bree lowered her head and closed her eyes as he caught the other wrist. Before he could, she drew her hand down, stiffened it and struck, driving into the vulnerable flesh of his neck. He stumbled back, his face going red as he choked for air. Bree slid off the desk, keeping a wide berth as she circled him.