I startle, my eyes shooting up to his.
My brows pinch as my stomach knots.
Seeing it, he cups my cheeks and leans in close.
“Get those thoughts out of your head right now. There is no fucking chance of me taking you back to Kane’s tonight. You’re mine, and you’re going to be sleeping in my bed, where you belong.”
My heart trips over itself, and I let out an ugly sob despite the fact a wide smile spreads across my lips.
Cold rushes over my skin the second he releases me. He tucks himself away and saunters across the room.
“Oh my god,” I gasp when he suddenly turns a light on and I discover that we’re in a freaking office. “Colton, what the hell?”
He chuckles as he pulls two tissues from a box on the desk beside him.
“Clean up,” he demands, holding them out to me and totally ignoring my question.
Hesitantly, I reach out before turning my back on him and attempting to do something about the mess between my thighs.
“You’re cute,” he breathes.
“Not feeling particularly cute right now,” I mutter.
“You’re trying to hide from me, but you’re standing right in front of that window.”
I look up and gasp when I remember exactly where we are.
“Damn it, Colt,” I snap, although there is no fire behind it. How can there be when my muscles are still tingling with my release, and I can still feel the effects of him being inside me?
He continues laughing when I throw the tissues at him, but he isn’t fazed at all.
Shimmying myself back into my dress, I drag my fingers through my hair in an attempt to fix what I’m sure is a disaster.
“Come on,” he says, long before I’ve got myself in any state to face people.
Taking my hand, he tugs me back toward the door we entered through.
This time, I notice more than I did when we first stumbled inside, and I pause when he presses his hand against what looks like a scanner before the door unlocks for us.
“Colt,” I warn, watching him with my brows pinched.
He shakes his head before glancing back at me with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
The second we emerge into the VIP section of the club, he makes a beeline for the exit.
Unlike before, a few people look in our direction, and the second their eyes land on me, my cheeks blaze red hot.
A server with a tray full of champagne glasses passes in front of us, and with moves that Colt usually saves for the field, he snags a glass without her noticing and passes it over.
“You look like you need this,” he says, his fingers brushing mine as I take it.
I can’t argue. I think I might need more than one glass right now.
“Wait. We can’t take this with us,” I argue when he continues tugging me toward the stairs.
“Like hell we can’t.”
Pulling me into his side, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and drops a kiss on the top of my head.
