Chapter 4
1379 Words
Chapter Four
What was she doing, kissing Colton? At the moment, she didn’t care to answer that question. His comments burned her up, hit too close to home. She’d simply wanted to prove she’d shed the good-girl persona he and his friends had pigeon-holed her with. But he tasted too damned good, of sweet tobacco, whiskey, and so enticingly male that she couldn’t stop herself. Didn’t want to stop. His mouth on her was like fire. No downtown banker had ever kissed her like this, with total possession. Like they weren’t standing in a crowd at the edge of a bonfire. Where, if they were seen, there’d be plenty to gossip about at her mother’s food truck in the morning.
He let out a possessive sound, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her tight, and took over the kiss. It was like a bomb went off in her brain, laying waste to all thought, leaving room only for feeling. Cascades of sensation settled in a warm rush at the apex of her thighs.
Maybe it was the booze, or the fact that three days ago her career had been upended, and she had nothing left to lose. She’d already lost her job and her dignity. What was the worst that could happen if she let go? She’d spent her entire life worrying about what was next, and where had it landed her? Unemployed and back in Prairie. She was wearing a red lace thong, dammit. She was going to live in this moment and let it carry here wherever it willed.
Colton lifted his head, his breath coming in harsh, uneven pulses. “You sure you wanna tangle with me, sweetheart? I’m pretty sure your mama would tan my hide if she found us together.”
She tilted up her chin defiantly. “I’m not planning on telling mama,” she muttered huskily, pulling him in for another kiss, because who in their right mind would want to stop kissing him? He’d unleashed a heat inside her that wouldn’t be quenched with anything but more of him. All of him.
His hand drifted lower, cupping her hip, and she pressed against him, fully aware of his arousal. Colt lifted his head again. “You sure you’re not drunk?”
“Only on your kisses,” she quipped. “And I want more.” Lordy, did she want more. His hands on her breasts, between her legs. His mouth on her. His reaction when he saw her with nothing but red lace. Grabbing his hand, she glanced around, then gave a tug, heading in the direction of the barn. Once they were out of the pull of the bonfire, they were encased in darkness. No one would notice them now. Not with the booze and the music.
“What are you doing?” he whispered urgently.
“What does it look like?” She reached the barn door and gave a push, relieved that it glided open with minimal sound.
As soon as she stepped in, her nose filled with the scent of sweet clover and horse. It had been ages since she’d set foot in the Kincaid barn, but if she recalled correctly, the tack room was immediately to her left. With the bravado that only came from recklessness, she stepped left, crossing her fingers that she wouldn’t walk into anything in the dark. Luck was on her side, and as they moved deeper into the tack room, moonlight coming through the window on the far wall cast everything in blue and black shadow. She turned back to Colton and looped her hands around her neck. “Much better.”
His hands came to her hips, pulling her close. “What do you want, Lydia?” he asked, voice rough.
“You,” she answered simply. God’s truth. She wanted to take her fill. Please herself for once.
“Why?”
“Why not? It’s a wedding. We’re here… I like how you kiss,” she answered boldly, pulse pounding. The scandalous nature of what she was proposing made her skin tingle all over. She liked this newer, wilder self and tipped her chin to receive his kiss. His tongue slid against hers, teasing and seductive, but his hands stayed firmly planted on her hips. Dropping her arm, she rucked up her dress on one side, exposing her thigh, inviting him to touch her.
Colton let out a strangled groan. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Quite the contrary.”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
Taking a step back, she whisked off her dress, thankful she’d chosen a stretchy knit material with no buttons, no clasps to catch or tear. “I don’t want you to be a gentleman, Colt.”
His face went taut. All angles and planes in the dim light. She stood before him, heart pounding erratically, waiting for him to move. Hope flickered, then faltered as the moment stretched between them. When he finally moved, it was to caress her with the barest graze of skin on skin. The back of a finger drawn down from her collarbone over the swell of her breast. Her n*****s strained against the silk of her b*a, aching to be touched, pinched. “Perfection.” His voice dropped, coming out rough and hard, like gravel.
He stood so close, she could feel the heat radiating off him, warming her skin against the cool night air. Colt continued a feather-light perusal down her torso, fingers gliding just inside her panties. Her breath caught, and she held herself still, nerve endings vibrating with anticipation of his next move. His fingers swept through her slick swollen folds, and she bit her lip to keep from crying at the ecstasy of it.
Colt lowered his head to her neck, breath skating in heated whorls across her skin. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured.
If it was half as much as she wanted him, then she had every idea.
“How gorgeous you are in the moonlight.” He slipped his fingers from her, and gripped her hip as he peppered her collarbone with hot kisses. “But we can’t do this.”
His day’s growth scraped her flesh like fine sandpaper, sending tongues of fire rippling down her limbs. She dropped her head back, giving him access to her neck. “Yessss,” she hissed on a breath.
In the recesses of her brain, his words registered. “No.”
She lifted her head, confused. “Wait. What do you mean?” Her heart yo-yoed sickeningly.
Colt groaned and pressed his mouth to her temple. Then he stepped back, hands clasping her bare shoulders, voice laced with regret. “You deserve more than a fifteen-minute f**k in the tack room.”
Mortification incinerated her insides. At least the darkness hid her flaming cheeks. “But I… you…” What had she done? Hot tears pricked her eyes. Was she so pathetic that even the town bad boy would reject her? That would be a resounding yes. Never had she wished more fervently for the earth to swallow her up. Or a flying horse to spirit her away. She clenched her stomach, fighting to keep the quiver from her voice. She would not let Colton see her humiliation. “I see.” By a miracle, her voice stayed even. She swallowed as she bent for her dress, and turned her back as she slipped it over her head.
“I’m sorry.”
Colt sounded like he wanted to say more, but really, what else was there to say when he’d already rejected her? Further explanation would only draw out the discomfort for both of them. Best to make a quick getaway and preserve what little dignity she had left. Smoothing her skirt and rolling her shoulders, she turned. His face didn’t show a shred of emotion, but his sheer physical presence overwhelmed her, his body tense and hard. He’d always been good looking, but now? The utter masculinity of him was breathtaking, even in her humiliation. “No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I-I misread… I-I’ll see you around.” She flashed him an empty smile and brushed past him before he could hear the catch in her throat.
“Lyds, wait,” he called after her.
Shaking her head, she kept moving, slipping out the door. The cold air pricked her lungs as she skirted the bonfire and blindly followed the fence line between the Kincaid and Grace properties, until she reached the old gate one of the families had constructed decades ago. Once the gate clicked shut behind her, she let the tears come. She’d never be able to show her face around the Kincaids again.
- Writer
