He blinks at me again, bewildered amazement taking over his face. “Are you serious?”
“Yes!” I thread my fingers through his and squeeze them in time with my words. “I. Love. You. Colt. I choose you. I choose us.”
Finally—finally—my words seem to make an impression. With his fingers still threaded through mine, he wraps his arms around me, trapping my hands behind my back, and bends to kiss me. “I love you too, Alexis,” he breathes against my lips before claiming then.
And then his lips crash into mine, the kiss bruising and fierce, his tongue delving into my mouth as though he can’t get inside me fast enough.
I completely agree.
I wriggle my hands out of his grip so I can wrap my arms around him, using my leverage on his shoulders to boost myself higher. He groans, his hands cupping my ass as he bounces me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he says, breathing hard.
“Me too.” My hands grip his hair, and I hold him back from me for a second, studying his beautiful sweet face. This man was ready to sacrifice his own happiness for mine. I’m glad neither of us have to make that kind of choice, though. Because we’re both better off together.
“Alexis,” he growls. “I can’t—I don’t—Jesus Christ, I want inside you so bad, but I don’t have a condom with me.”
I kiss him once, fast and hard. “Take me home, Colt.”
We leave my car at the venue, because neither of us are willing to be apart. And the drive back to our apartment is almost torture, his hand riding high on my thigh, but not high enough.
He glances at me as I lean in close, rubbing the inside of his thigh and making him groan. “Careful, Alexis,” he warns, his voice rough. “I don’t want to cause an accident.”
I hum thoughtfully. “If I make you come in your pants, I’m quite certain it won’t be an accident.”
He lets out a bark of laughter. “I meant a car accident.”
“Oh. Right.” I take my hand away with one last pat on his inner thigh. I still have nightmares about the last car accident I was in. No need to tempt fate with another one, especially so soon after getting my life back on track. Again.
But not even the brief, sharp reminder of all I’ve lost can dim my happiness at having Colt back.
The last few months with him have been something of a process of self-rediscovery. I hadn’t realized how lost in the woods I’d become chasing after fame and fortune with Golden Enigma, doing everything we were told we had to do in order to make it. We partied, we schmoozed, we did our best to stay relevant, stay in the spotlight, stay popular. And look where that got us. Broken and scattered.
Being with Colt has helped me to remember what’s most important to me. Music. Friends. Family.
He throws the car into park, flings off his seatbelt, and pulls me in for a deep, drugging kiss. When he ends it, my hands are wrapped around his forearms and I’m breathing hard. I have to blink a few times to clear the lust-haze from my brain to remember where we are and what needs to happen before we can get naked.
Because mind shattering sex is also up there in my list of things that are important to me. And holy hell. Colt always delivers.
“Come on,” he says, reaching for the button to release my seatbelt. “I’m gonna die if we don’t get inside in the next five minutes.”
I fumble with the latch on the door, stumbling out when I finally get it open. We grab our guitars—because lust-drunk or not, neither of us are going to leave those in the car—and head to the apartment. Colt is right behind me, making appreciative noises about my ass, making me giggle and squeal when he reaches out and gives it a light smack.
Then we’re inside, our guitars abandoned in the corner, our clothes flying. Colt heads for the bedroom, tossing his shirt over one shoulder and undoing his belt and pants as he goes. I follow behind him, a little surprised he didn’t just tip me onto the couch. But then he goes to his side of the bed and rummages in the drawer, coming up triumphantly with a foil packet. With his pants open and shoved down enough to free his rock-hard dick, he rolls it on, watching me the whole time.
“Panties off, Alexis,” he commands, his voice gravel. “This time’s going to be hard and fast. You ready?”
With a gulp, I peel my thong down till it’s loose enough to fall to the floor and take a step closer to him. “Ready.”
“Good.”
He reaches for me just like in the car, one hand cupping my head, holding me steady for the onslaught of his mouth on mine, his other hand roaming my body, cupping my boob, tweaking my nipple, down over my hip, fondling my ass, then back to the front where it delves between my thighs, dipping into my wetness and spreading it around. We both let out matching sounds of breathless desire when he does that.
“Colt, I want you inside me,” I whisper, practically whimpering. “Now.”
“Fuck, yeah,” he says. “That’s where I always wanna be.”
He guides me to the bed, and I spread myself across it, loving the predatory gleam in his eye as he crawls over me, shoving his jeans down farther. Clearly he’s too impatient to bother taking them all the way off, and somehow that just makes this even hotter.
My hands skim up his chest,
