My buzzed brain still hadn’t grasped what had just happened. Colt was here. Colt washere, and he looked like he was about to — and more than willing to — rip that piece of shit to shreds, even if said piece of shit had wisely bolted.
Towering over me, my fake boyfriend was vibrating with rage. Fuck me, he’d never looked sexier. Veins popped out on his forearms as his hands kept clenching and unclenching, his impossibly broad shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths under his oversized shirt, and … oh my God, he was wearing his cap backward. Was he trying to kill me?
I ogled him shamelessly, soaking up the glorious display of porn that was tailor-made for me.
He grabbed my wrist, his calloused hands rough against my skin, and pulled me to my feet and back into the house. After the relative silence of the yard, where not much could be heard except for the muffled music coming from the house,it was like walking straight into a humid wall of noise.
Although my senses should have been assaulted by all the stimuli — booming bass, shouted conversations and the stench of cheap beer and sweat — they were consumed by the massive man dragging me through the house.
Luckily, when we passed Ella in the kitchen, he stopped long enough for me to let her know we were leaving. Her response was, and I quote, “Let him Slytherin your Hufflepuff,” but Colt pulled me away before I could even think of a retort. We left the house and weaved our way through the lines of cars until we reached his truck.
“Colt, where—”
“Anywhere else. Before I go back in there and shove that motherfucker’s stupid loafer up his ass.”
I chuckled even though I knew he was dead serious.
He glanced over his shoulder, the sheer rage still burning like an icy fire in those blue depths.
“Something funny about some random piece of shit thinking he could just touch what’s mine?”
I swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the movement of my throat. His big hand shot out and closed around my neck, his fingers applying light pressure as he pushed me up against his truck. A haze of pleasure clouded my mind, and an incredible feeling of euphoria and arousal filled me. I looked up at him through hooded eyes, breathing shallowly as a rush of heat swept through my body, making my pussy throb.
A look of unmistakable delight crossed his face.
“Look at you, baby girl. So pretty and all flushed with your new necklace. Shall we find out how much you like it?”
Colt released my neck, and I whimpered in protest. He yanked open the passenger door, wrapped his giant handsaround my waist, and lifted me onto the seat. I looked at him wide-eyed. This wasn’t the Colt I knew. This was the flash of darkness I’d seen in his eyes all those years ago, and I was determined to lure it out.
His rough, thick fingers slipped under the hem of my skirt, eliciting a gasp from me, then traced along the edges of my thong with feathery-light touches.
When he withdrew, I shot him a look underneath furrowed brows. I wanted his touch, craved it — where the hell did he think he was going?
“Pull up your skirt and lose the thong. Show me what’s mine.”
For a split second, I froze. I had no idea where that part of him had been hiding for so long, all I knew was I was absolutely feral for him.
Hastily, with slightly trembling fingers, I followed his command. With his hands braced on the roof of the truck, he stared down at me. The balmy night air hit my damp center as I peeled off my panties.
At any moment, someone could walk by and find us in this compromising position. I was exposed, with only Colt standing between potential prying eyes and me, and it was exhilarating.
He held out his hand until I dropped the soaked piece of lace into his palm. He brought the wet fabric to his nose, closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, then groaned.
If I hadn’t already been dripping, that would have done it. My pussy clenched, and I clawed at the seat beneath me, already desperate for him.
“Spread your legs for me. Show me that pretty cunt.”
I obeyed, exposing myself, and waited for him to dosomething, anything. His calloused fingers gliding through my arousal had me arching into his touch, but he pulled his hand back.
“So fucking wet,” he growled, then sucked his fingers into is mouth. “And so goddamn delicious.”
It was so difficult not to squirm with desire. My core throbbed and demanded friction, but Colt had other plans, and after what seemed like an eternity of eye-fucking, he said, “I want to see you come. Play with your pussy for me. Show me how badly you want to feel my hand around your throat again.”
He wanted me to get myself off? “Here?”
“Here.” The corner of his mouth twitched.
“What if someone walks by?”
