Looking for Love

4. Colton

4

COLTON

They had to know I could hear them—that I could all but taste the scent of s*x in the air wafting through the screen door.

Had their afternoon delight in the kitchen been intentional? Did Hudson hope to drive me f*****g insane with l**t as he railed his wife against their counter?

What had started as a hug from behind, same as when he’d gotten home, turned into a hell of a lot more.

I’d been standing on the ground near the corner of the deck, the angle offering me a nice side view through the screen of Hudson kissing her neck. Palming her p***y. Dropping to his knees and taking her pants to the floor with him.

My erection hadn’t relented from the clasp of his hand when saying goodbye moments earlier, and the sight of him shoving his face in her gorgeous backside had jolted l**t through my groin with enough force that my d**k bucked. Hard.

Standing still, I’d held my breath, ears straining for every word they spoke, my eyes drinking in the sight of him working pre-c*m over his length.

He’d asked permission before angling his hips to push into her body.

“I could stay here all day long,” he’d murmured, and Christ, did I agree.

Unable to help myself, I’d pressed against my aching d**k as he poured out praise, my heart stinging with the need to hear similar sentiments. Love, not l**t. Commitment, not a quickie to simply empty my balls.

Assurances and promises—things I’d heard as a child that hadn’t panned out.

Could I really open myself up to the same devastating hurt I’d experienced as a kid? Did I have the guts to allow vulnerability that had the potential to tear my heart to pieces again?

Hudson paused, checking in with his wife, and she’d told him to finish so she could feel his c*m dripping from her body.

His curse matched the one whispering off my lips at her filthy words. Could they be any more perfect? Pre-c*m oozed from my slit, smearing the insides of my briefs.

Glancing around, I reassured myself of the privacy fence hiding my actions.

A quick pop of my button and downward drag of the zipper between my tool belt pouches, and I hissed in relief while pulling my aching d**k through the gap in my pants.

Hudson’s jeans clung to his thick thighs, and I zoned in on how the muscles of his a*s flexed as he drove into Madeline with steady thrusts. f**k, what I wouldn’t give to be on the receiving end—or hell, on my knees in front of his wife, l*****g at them both as he filled her.

She would yank on my hair, clutch me close, and beg me to suck on her clit until she creamed all over his d**k and my chin.

“Fuck.” I gulped and squeezed the base of my c**k, backing off the edge of spurting on the decking in front of me.

Madeline took him like a champ, a deep arch in her back, her a*s high, the flesh jiggling with every slap of their skin meeting.

But she didn’t whisper a sound. No moans. No begging for him to f**k her harder. No pleadings to come.

What—

Hudson turned his head, his gaze clashing with mine.

Goddamnit.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing, d**k throbbing in my hand—but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down.

His deep groan pebbled my skin.

The fucker enjoyed catching a Peeping Tom watching him f**k his wife.

“Ah, s**t,” I whispered harshly, my hand f*****g my length in rhythm with his hips.

“You feel so good, Mads,” he rumbled. “You’re like silk wrapped around my dick.”

“Christ,” I muttered, my gaze dropping to said d**k as he offered me a teasing peek before slamming back into her.

I’d gotten off to my fair share of p**n, had sat and satisfied my voyeur kink countless times, but nothing compared to the sight of the committed couple beyond the screen door. If only I stood closer, had a better view—every f*****g angle—

As though Hudson heard my thoughts, he shifted slightly and spread open his wife’s a*s cheeks like a camera zoomed in for a close-up of him stuffing his d**k inside her p***y. A clear f*****g shot of bare, pink lips wrapped around his glistening c**k. The trimmed pubes around his base and drawn up balls.

A hiss escaped through my clenched teeth as pre-c*m made a mess of my fingers gliding over my glans.

“Just like that,” Hudson said, jerking my focus upward.

He wouldn’t be able to see me below the waist from where I stood below the deck, but I realized my flexing forearm gave me away.

“Yes,” he groaned as I didn’t even break the rhythm of f*****g my fist. “Jesus—fuck.” He slammed into Madeline and held still, hips trying to buck him in deeper. A shudder ripped through him, and at the thought of his length spurting in pulsing waves, my own release shot upward.

I bit my tongue to keep quiet, grunts ripping from my lungs as ribbons of white fell to the ground at my feet. Gasping, I grabbed the deck rail with my free hand, eyes still glued to Hudson as he clasped his wife’s waist in a possessive hold, drawing her up to stand. He gathered her hair in his hand, moving it to the side to access her neck.

As though I no longer existed, he whispered to her. Kissed and licked her throat. Nuzzled her skin.

Cursing, my insides a jumbled mess of longing, euphoria, and guilt, I stuffed my spent d**k away, wiping my fingers clean on my boxer briefs. A few kicks of dirt from where I’d dug holes for new pilings covered the evidence of my perving.

My hands shook as I retrieved my tape measure from the side pouch of my tool belt and attempted to measure one last piece of AZEK to finish trimming out the Youngs’ deck. I refused to look at them and yanked my headphones from around my neck and put them where they belonged. The built-in radio filled my ears, shutting out all noise from their house.

I focused on finishing the job I’d been hired to do rather than watching what sort of aftercare Hudson offered his wife.

Would he drop to his knees again and lick her clean? The thought made my mouth water.

Would he retrieve a wet towel and gently wipe his c*m from between her thighs?

Would he offer to run a bath and pamper her like she deserved after being wrung out—

Madeline hadn’t climaxed, I suddenly realized, remembering her lack of verbal involvement. Not one moan had left her lips.

My attention jerked toward the screen slider—but both Hudson and Madeline had disappeared. Thoughts of where they might have gone for Hudson to finish her off shot through my brain, but I shut that s**t down before my d**k went all happy again.

Lips pressed tight, I fit a piece of AZEK against the miter saw’s guide, pulling down the still blade to line up the pencil line I’d drawn. A tiny shift, and I hit the button to bring the saw to screaming life. As with the silencing of voices, the radio blaring in my ears tuned out most of the blade’s noise as it sliced through the trim material like a hot knife through butter.

A clean cut.

Exactly what I needed to do when leaving the job site that afternoon. Walking away with the knowledge I would never see the Youngs again or endure the heart-aching view of their love I expected would be easy.

But leaving the memories of them behind would prove impossible.

They’d stirred up longing. Fear. Curiosity.

Rhett’s push to look for more had heightened those feelings, but my heart couldn’t handle being broken again.