He’s beyond frustrating. I have no clue what he’s thinking most of the time. But then yesterday he surprised me by asking me out again. I’d figured he’d chalked up our one and only date as a complete failure, so was I thrown off when he asked.
Then he’d promised there’d be no contact between us and my smart mouth shot off without a filter as usual. I’d certainly caught him off guard, in a good way, judging by the look on his face.
I head to my room to get ready and solicit MJ’s help again with my hair and makeup.
“I thought you said the first date sucked?” she asks, squinting at me.
“I thought it did.” But looking back with a clear head, without the scent of Colt and the crashing waves filling my senses, I recall details I’d missed in the moment. The low groan in his chest when I kissed him back.
I want to kiss you. In fact, I want to do much more than just kiss you.
Colt had been protecting me. From what?
Oh.
From himself. From the way he normally uses girls.
But what did that mean? That he liked me only as a friend, and not on par with the type of girls he messes around with? Or was it that he liked me much more than a friend – above being treated with the carelessness he afforded the other girls? God this was confusing.
“What?” MJ asks, stopping mid-brush stroke meeting my eyes in the mirror.
“I can’t tell if he likes me.”
She snorts. “He likes you, Taylor. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She continues brushing my hair while my stomach twists uncomfortably into knots.
Why is Colt interested in me? Is he waiting for my eighteenth birthday? I watch my reflection in the mirror. Even though I’m not exotic or beautiful, my skin is clear, my eyes are bright and I feel pretty. And I’m smart and good with computers. But there’s something deeper at work between Colt and I. Aside from physical attraction and chemistry, he likes me because I stand up to him and call him on his bullshit. That was something new for him – he’d never been with someone like me before. I was like a new color in his box of crayons. The thought both intrigues and depresses me. I like thinking I’m something different, something good for him, but I hate knowing he’ll pick another color when he gets bored.
MJ waves her hand in front of my face, snapping me back to reality. “Earth to Taylor.”
“Sorry. Just trying to process all this.”
She shakes her head. “Well process it while putting this on.” She offers me a black halter top of hers. “It’ll look great on you.”
I slip it on, along with my favorite jeans, dressy sandals and grab a light weight sweater for later just in case.
Would I ask him to kiss me tonight? Was I brave enough to handle everything that came with it? Would Colt’s delicious attention be worth my inevitable heartbreak once he was through?
I meet Colt out front where his BMW is parked in the gravel drive. He’s leaning against the side of the car with my door already open. He’s dressed in jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, his hair deliciously disheveled. He looks gorgeous of course. And when he spots me, a satisfied little smile crosses his lips.
When I approach the waiting car door, he leans forward coming in toward my cheek. I hold up my hand, stopping him. “Ah, now, Colt.” I shake my head. “No physical contact. Your rule, not mine.” I keep my face completely composed but my voice drips with sarcasm. I slip past him, sinking down into the inviting leather seat.
The look on his face is priceless. Surprised, playful, and… determined. Bring it. I hear his low chuckle just before he swings the door closed.
He gracefully sinks into the seat beside me, but instead of starting the car and pulling away like I expect, he turns to me and treats me to one of his heart-stopping smiles. His eyes travel over my exposed skin and my bare arms break out in chill bumps under his steady attention.
Oh God, help me…
In no rush, he reluctantly pulls his gaze from me and starts the car. Then he hands me his mp3 player and hits the gas, pinning my back against the seat as he speeds away.
“Hopefully you’re not too hungry. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.”
I’m intrigued. I look over at him curiously, wondering what he has planned.
“I think I can hang in there for a little while.” I settle back against my seat, studying him from the corner of my eye. Oh this boy does bad things to me. My stomach clenches in anticipation of later, wondering who will crack first with this no contact rule.
Chapter 41
I’d almost blown it already when I bent down to kiss her cheek. And of course Taylor called me on it. I chuckle to myself. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to leave everything up to her. I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands to myself tonight. I grip the steering wheel harder and floor the gas.
After a little while, we settle into the drive. Taylor flips through my music, playing an eclectic blend to show off, or possibly mock, my diverse tastes, everything from classical to jazz to pop to old school rap.
“So have you decided what to do?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity any longer.
“About?” she prompts, looking up from the mp3 player.
“Whether or not you’re going to stay here?”
“Oh.” Her chin drops.
It’s a strange reaction. Is she afraid to tell me something?
“For now. I can’t leave before I know more and, I guess like you, I’d rather be here keeping my eye on McAllister than to run back home. But I can’t imagine ever doing another assignment he gives me.”
I breathe again, relieved and still worried about her too.
After about fifteen minutes, Taylor grows restless. “So how long of a drive do we have and where exactly are you taking me?” she asks, shifting in her seat.
“It’ll be about an hour. We’re going to my house.”
“Your house?” she looks up at me expectantly.
“Well, my father’s house, I should say. He’s away on business right now though, so we’ll have it to ourselves.”
“Oh.” She pouts out her bottom lip and I grip the wheel tighter, forcing myself to concentrate on the road and not her full mouth.
“I’m going to cook for you.”
“You cook?” she asks, her voice full of surprise.
I nod, smiling. “Not much anymore, but yes.”
She smiles, inspecting me like she’s weighing each new thing she learns about me. “Did your mom teach you?”
“Yes, and Mrs. Lee, our housekeeper, and my nanny growing up. She still works for my father and though she won’t be there tonight, I instructed her to shop for everything I’d need to make you dinner.”
She flushes and looks down.
I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“Thank you. That sounds… nice.” Her voice is soft, just audible over the low music.
Or we could forget about eating and go straight to my bedroom. Or the hot tub. I accelerate, pushing the car faster.
After crossing through the gated entrance, I make my way down the private drive leading to the house.
Taylor leans forward in her seat to look at the houses we occasionally pass, each allocated a large plot of land and standing as impressive as ever.
I haven’t been here in over a year, preferring to stay at the school during breaks rather than here where it feels dead and cold. But on the plus side, it was somewhere I would have Taylor all to myself.
Chapter 42
I can’t believe this is where Colt grew up. His house is a mansion. Literally. He pulls into a long driveway, the house not yet completely in view from the well-manicured landscaping. The driveway is brick and he continues past the front of the house and the rather impressive circular drive with a fountain in the center, and parks behind the house in front of a four stall garage. I’m still in shock when he exits the car and strolls around to help me out.
The house looms in front of us, broad, two stories, Cape Cod style with pale blue clapboard siding, slate stonework and white shutters. It’s beautiful.
He leads me through the back door into a mud room with rows of pale wood lockers and various baskets and benches for storage. It looks like a home organization catalog.
He gives me a tour of the first floor while I struggle to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Large living room, office, family room, formal dining room, a sitting room that he calls a parlor and rolls his eyes, a library and a foyer that could hold half my parents’ house, before finally leading me into the kitchen.
There’s a rustic wood island in the center with six stools. The rest is shiny stainless steel, marble countertops and rich wood. It’s extremely spacious.
“Have a seat.” He motions toward the stools at the island.
I comply, sitting on a stool.
The island is decorated with various bowls and baskets of fruit, whole heads of garlic and fresh baguettes in various sizes.
He grabs a Diet Coke from the fridge and sets it in front of me. I wrap my hands around the coolness of the can, needing to grasp onto something normal in this museum of a house.
“What are you hungry for?” he asks, surveying the fridge.
“Oh, anything is fine.”
“I told Mrs. Lee I’d make you pasta.”
“That sounds great.”
Colt sets off to work, pulling various ingredients from the fridge and cabinets, a cute look of concentration on his face. He dices tomatoes, simmers cream sauce and boils pasta.
After asking to help about six times, I relax into my seat and enjoy watching him cook. He gives me little jobs, like tasting the sauce from the tip of a spoon, then smiles at me when I approve.
“So your dad’s away on business?”
He nods tightly. Okay…so he doesn’t want to talk about his dad.
I stroll over to the built in cabinets on the far end of the kitchen. There’s a photo of Colt and someone who looks like a younger version of Colt. “Who’s this?” I hold up the photo.
He glances my way. “My brother Reis.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
He nods. “He’s your age actually, a junior in high school. He goes to a private school in California though.”
Interesting. I set the photo down, appreciating the exquisite beauty of the Palmer brothers. Reis is a fraction shorter than Colt, but his face is softer, missing the hardened edge that Colt’s has. It’s nice.
The meal is amazing and after dinner, I offer to wash the dishes, but he says we can leave them in the sink and Mrs. Lee will be back in the morning.
Hmm. A whole night ahead of us. Alone. With Colt. And the no physical contact rule. Crap.
After dinner he gives me a list of options for what we can do. Movie theatre (they have one in the house!) swimming pool, hot tub, billiards or card games.
“What would you like to do?” he asks, prompting me to decide.
“I think I’d like to see your bedroom.”
His eyebrows lift in surprise at my boldness, then he leads me up the winding staircase without a word. We pass by several doors to well-appointed bedrooms and bathrooms until we reach the end of the hall. He pushes open the door.
His room is large, and spotlessly clean – thanks to Mrs. Lee, I presume. The walls are dark blue, as is the thick carpeting, and the furniture is all matching pale wood.
There’s a guitar and an amp in the corner, and a couple of lounge chairs in front of a large TV with a video game console.
I can’t really picture a younger Colt hanging out here playing games with his friends. I can’t imagine him carefree and relaxed letting off steam like a normal teenage boy. It’s much easier to imagine Colt fighting shirtless in a barn, practicing martial arts and going toe to toe with McAllister. I flush at the thought. Colt plus testosterone does funny things to me.
I realize I’m being quiet and Colt’s standing beside me, watching me.
“There isn’t much to see up here,” he says like he wants to leave, like he wants me to choose one of the pre-approved activities he suggested earlier. I wonder why.
I wander over to his TV and pick up one of the video games. “We could play…” I smile.
“I suck,” he admits, coming closer. “You’d probably kick my ass. Reis always does.” He takes the game and sets it down again.
I make myself comfortable on one of the big arm chairs. After a second, he does the same, sitting down next to me.
“I haven’t been here for a while.” He looks around. “I haven’t been home much in the last three years since I started at Wilbrook.”
It’s surprising because the school’s only an hour from his house. “How come?”
“I guess I just don’t really like being here.”
“Oh. Well we can go. If you want to go do something else, I mean.”
“No. I like being here with you.” He glances over at me. “I’ve never had a girl in my room.”
Whoa. That’s a shock. “Never?”
“Nope. This is a first for me.” He reaches over, taking my hand.
I summon up my courage. “So why am I here, Colt?”
He meets my eyes. “Because I like you, Taylor.” He squeezes my hand.
“Are you going to stay at Wilbrook?” He releases my hand. “It would be extremely dull without you and Pennsylvania is really far away.” He frowns.
I shake my head, not ready to answer his question yet. I need some answers of my own first. “Oh, I’m sure once I left, there’d be a steady stream of girls lining up to step in and take my place.”
He face gets serious. “No one could take your place.”
Oh wow. He is so hot right now. Breathe Taylor.
“Come here.” I pull him up from the chair and lead him to the bed.
Colt sits down next to me, our legs nearly touching. Apparently he’s taking the contact rule seriously. He’s beyond frustrating.
“Do you enjoy torturing me, Mr. Palmer?”
A smile creeps onto his lips, making them curl deliciously into a grin just millimeters from mine. “Not particularly.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“I promised you I wouldn’t touch you again unless you asked me to.”
Good Lord, he wants a formal invitation? He’s torturing me. Well two can play at this game. And I plan to win.
I stand up from the bed, and turn away from him. “Okay, I’ll send you an Evite later from my computer.”
He narrows his eyes, then lunges for me, locking me in his arms. “Get over here you evil little thing.”
He holds me tightly against him, pulling me onto the bed. He looks down into my eyes. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers near my ear, breathing against my hair.
“You.” My body trembles and I cling to his biceps for support, melting at the heat between us.
“Tell me,” he coaxes.
How can I tell him? What can I say when I’d promised myself that the next time I gave away my heart, and all the rest of me that it’d be for love. I’m not sure how I feel exactly, but I know I’m falling for him.
He tilts my chin up, forcing my mouth flush with his. “Taylor?” he whispers against my lips.
“Kiss me,” I command.
He processes my request, grinning ever so slightly, then buries one hand in my hair, gripping the back of my neck to pull me in closer. He takes my mouth with his. The kiss is better than I remember. I relax into him, letting him answer all my fears the way he knows best.
He deepens the kiss, moving his tongue against mine and I happily obey, tasting, teasing along with his expert mouth.
Colt caresses my jaw, moving slowly, deliberately, being the gentleman he’s promised, until I inadvertently let out a little gasp. Then he responds like a match struck, a low growl rumbling through his chest while he pulls me up onto his lap. Whoa.
We continue kissing, me in his lap and I run my hands through his hair. He grips my waist, pressing me into his lap.
Colt’s kisses do insane things to my body. My heart is pounding and I’m flushed all over. In the chaos of this moment, suddenly I’m stuck by a thought. He’s too good at all this. The way his hands cup my behind, his thumbs kneading into my lower back, then slipping just under the waist band of my jeans. His experience at all this is evident. And suddenly I feel inadequate. But then Colt groans against my neck as he trails damp kisses across my throat and a fullness swells inside me knowing I have the same effect on him.
Several minutes later, we’re both out of breath, our cheeks flushed and our lips swollen. I lose myself in Colt, all common sense, all self-preservation flying out the window.
Colt pulls back from kissing me cradling my face in his hands. “You. Are. Driving. Me. Insane.” He groans, a deep animalistic sound in the back of his throat. Holy crap. It’s incredibly sexy and makes me feel powerful, desirable.
“I’m sorry.” I look down, unsure what to say next. I watch him while my heart slows, wondering where this could possibly be heading. My mind flashes a neon sign that says Heartbreak City. I ignore it.
“It’s okay,” he says. “There’s no rush.” He smiles lightly at me and his reassurance is all the encouragement I need.
Chapter 43
Taylor sitting on my bed does strange things to me. I want her. More than anything, I want this girl I know I shouldn’t have. But that’s never stopped me before.
I lean in to kiss her. She lifts her chin, responding to me instantly and meets my mouth with the softest kiss. I cradle her face in my hands and let my lips leave hers to wander across her jaw, then down her neck. Her smell is intoxicating and so are the breathy little sounds escaping her lips.
I take her mouth again and dip my tongue to meet hers. She kisses me back skillfully, carefully. It’s hot. Really fucking hot. I grab onto her waist and press her closer into my lap. She pulls back from my lips, looking startled. “I need you closer,” I explain.
A lazy smile crosses her lips, and I’m back to kissing her. I move to her neck again just so I can hear those sounds she makes. I press my tongue to throat and feel the way her pulse jumps. My hands move on their own and I grasp her hips, settling her even closer into my lap. Now she’s completely straddling me. Her breath comes in quick gasps and she balls my shirt in her hands. “This. Off,” she mumbles while I continue to lick and kiss her neck.
I pull back and oblige, yanking my shirt off over my head.
She brings both her hands to my bare chest and runs them over my skin, then down my stomach. I shiver under her touch and see her mouth lift in a smile.
I quickly roll us over on the bed so she’s underneath me and hitch her leg up around my waist. I push against her and she groans, deep, throaty, full of need. Her hands are on my chest again, but this time, rather than urging me closer, she’s pushing me away.
“Colt, stop.” She pushes against my chest.
I lift myself up off of her wondering what’s wrong.
Her breathing is heavy, nearly a pant and her lips are swollen and pink from kissing. “I just need a minute,” she says, still breathless.
We both roll onto our sides, facing each other, breathing heavily, the intensity still burning between us. Despite her plea, I can’t help but touch her. I grip her waist, pulling her in closer. “What is it?”
“This isn’t going to work for me.” She motions between us. “Knowing you can’t…that you don’t want a relationship…this can’t go any further.”
Crap. I let out a deep exhale, and sit up on the bed. I look down at her, still lying against my pillow. She looks tiny and confused, and so pretty and the words still come rushing out of me. “I’m sorry, Taylor, but I can’t open myself up for that. I’m not looking for a relationship.”
She sits up, matching my position. “And I’m not looking for a booty call. I can’t give myself to someone again and be crushed when they leave.”
“Me neither.” I study her. And who said I wanted her for a booty call? Does she have that little faith in me? I’ve just made her dinner and yet she still assumes the worst of me.
Realization crosses her face, and knows I’m talking about my mom. In a strange way, we both have the same fear – losing someone we love.
She wraps her arms around her knees, hugging herself. “Well then I guess we’re at a stalemate.”
I let out a frustrated growl. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Chapter 44
Colt is shirtless sitting on his bed looking like a sex-god, but his expression is troubled. I know he’s waiting for me to say something…but when I said I needed a minute… I really meant it.
I know I’m being unfair. How can I compare my fears over what happened with Wes to his fears. He has truly lost love – his mother’s love, his father’s love according to him – his family. Love and loss pulled them apart. It was too painful to go on living like a family after they lost her. Of course he’s broken. How can I ask him to just get over something like that?
The heart break of losing Wes lasted what…a few months? Colt lost his family – that isn’t something you get over – ever. Can I accept him…and all his issues? Can I be with him on his terms?
No. I can’t. I need more than just the physical stuff to be happy. But maybe after some negotiating…
“I could never be one of your...one nighters, Colt. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
He laughs. The bastard actually laughs! “I know that Taylor. That’s not what I want either.”
“What do you want?” I ask in a small voice.
He pulls me closer, so we’re lying together again, my head resting against his chest. “I like hanging out with you. And I want to be able to kiss you and touch you too.”
I swallow roughly as his hand glides up the side of my neck and into my hair. “Colt, that sounds like a girlfriend.”
He shakes his head. “No…I’m not good with… the girlfriend thing. I told you that.”
“Only because you won’t let yourself be.” I prop myself up on one elbow and look down at him.
He looks deep in thought while he considers my words. “Maybe we could try something…” A mischievous smile crosses his lips and I doubt I’ll have the willpower to say no twice tonight. He runs his hand up my thigh and my breath hitches.
I blush ferociously.
“I know how much I affect you. I can see it in your eyes, the way your body responds to me.” He brings his hand up so it’s resting on my belly. I suck in another breath at the intimacy of it. “And when I touch you…I love the noises you make.”
I inhale at his choice of words. Damn, my body is totally giving me away. I blush and look down.
“Don’t.” He lifts my chin. “You do the same to me.” He places my hand over his racing heart. I look up and meet his eyes. They are soft with desire. He removes my hand from his heart and laces his fingers with mine. “You have to know the effect you have on me. I thought it was obvious.”
I take a deep breath to clear my head. “Colt, you’re probably effected like this by any girl that walks into the room.”
“Not like this.” He shakes his head slowly as if he’s in disbelief. “You do this to me, Taylor. Just you.” His voice is soft and it washes over me. “With you, it’s different. I can’t explain how, it just is. I never know what to expect with you.”
My heart squeezes tightly in my chest. “Maybe we could try some sort of compromise then?” I offer. That is so the hormones talking.
“Compromise?” He tips his head.
I imagine it’s hard for him to concentrate with all the blood rushing to a certain part of his body. I let a giggle escape.
“Tell me what you mean,” he coaxes.
“Well, some of what I want…and some of what you want.”
He smiles.
I continue, “For instance, hanging out…that’s suitable to me.”
“Me too.” He brushes the hair off my neck, and trails his fingers over my throat, grazing my collarbone, down to the edge of my shirt.
My hormones riot, silently begging his hand to continue south.
“Me touching you?” he asks, huskily.
“Yes,” I whisper. “That’s suitable.”
He grins and kisses my jaw. “Good girl.”
I suck in a deep breath, desperately trying to keep a level head. “But no sex.”
His lips freeze momentarily on my neck. Then he recovers and places another kiss, near my ear this time. “Okay.”
“And no sex with anyone else either.”
He stops his assault on my neck and meets my eyes. “No sex at all then?”
I nod smugly, feeling clever.
His jaw drops.
Crap. Maybe I’ve gone too far. I look down, staring at my hands.
He lifts my chin and kisses me swiftly. “You either then.”
Now I’m the one with my mouth hanging open. He uses my position to his advantage and leans forward, running his tongue along my bottom lip. “Any more rules?” His mouth still rests against mine.
“Just one.”
He pulls back just a bit.
I feel kind of dumb at this last one, maybe I’m crossing the line into girlfriend territory even asking, but knowing it’s what I want, I press on. “Dates. I like you taking me out.” I look down. I know I like it because it makes me feel different and special. MJ said he never dated before me. I like that this applies only to me.
“No.” He shakes his head, his expression firm.
“No?” My stomach drops. I guess he wants to keep this as far from a real relationship as possible. That thought hurts.
“I do want to take you out, but not because it’s part of some agreement. So can we just leave that out of this? You just have to trust me.”
I nod eagerly, suddenly at a loss for words.
He leans in to kiss me again while my head swims with what we’ve just agreed to.
Chapter 45
It doesn’t matter how I feel about Taylor. Our days are numbered, because once she discovers McAllister is my father, she’ll split. And even though I know I should tell her, I’m not ready for this to end when things are just getting good between us.
Our compromise, as she calls it is working amazingly well. The last week has been incredible. She’s still on her mission to get to the bottom of McAllister’s motivation to crash the tanker, but she also lets me distract her with…playtime, as she calls it. We hang out at night in my room, where we cuddle, give each other massages, play games and take things slow.
Today we’re sitting in the common room, which is thankfully empty watching a movie. Taylor is wrapped in my arms, leaning against my chest. I haven’t been paying attention to the movie for the last fifteen minutes. Instead I’m enjoying just holding her. Something I never thought I’d feel. But then again, she does provoke all kinds of new feelings inside of me.
I notice things about her that I guess I’ve never taken the time to notice with other girls. Like the way her shampoo smells, her contoured ankle bones, her cute earlobes, and the collar bone framing her chest. I run my hand up the back of her neck, into her hair. “You’re so soft,” I whisper, kneading her neck.
She grins at my distraction from the movie. “You’re not watching this at all, are you?”
“Nope.” I kiss the side of her neck. “You’re too distracting.”
She laughs. “I don’t see how, I’m just sitting here.”
“Just trust me.”
“I do,” she says meeting my eyes.
Those blue eyes stir something inside of me. She shouldn’t trust me. I push the thought away, and lean in to kiss her.
Taylor turns off the movie and a few minutes later, she’s straddling me on the couch, kissing me hungrily, making those soft groans and gasps I love.
I can feel her heart beating against my chest, its steady thrumming insistent and certain. I love how alive I feel with her. Her softness, and the fact that this is all still new for her makes me want to be careful with her, to take my time, which is something I’ve never felt before.
She kisses me deeply, and works her hands under my shirt, running them along my chest. Okay, forget taking my time. I pull her closer into my lap, my jeans straining between us.
The door flies open and Taylor leaps off my lap, straightening her shirt.
I turn back to glare at whoever the hell just interrupted us.
It’s MJ, grinning like a damn fool. “Well it’s about fucking time,” MJ says, chuckling to herself.
I shoot MJ a look, imploring her to leave. She exits the room with a huge grin on her face. Taylor blushes, smoothing down her hair, and pulls away from me on the couch.
Playtime is over. Damn.
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