16. Ella

16

ELLA

I wake pinned to the bed and hotter than the sun.

Sweat covers every inch of me and my head spins. No—pounds.

What the fuck did I?—

I open my eyes, and the first thing I’m greeted with is a framed MKU Panthers jersey with the number twenty-two on the front.

Oh my fucking god.

My heart rate picks up as images from the night before begin to play out in my mind like my own private porno.

The famous player and the chubby girl.

I mentally kick myself. At no point last night did Colt make me feel any less, any uglier than I used to be.

It was the opposite of what I expected when I thought about the prospect of standing before him again.

But the way he looked at me, the way he touched me. The dirty things he said.

Without instruction from my brain, my thighs rub together, my pussy slick with arousal.

Thought I’d have worn her out last night. She sure went from zero to sixty in the usage department fast. She had no idea what was about to hit her.

Colton’s hand as he slapped your clit just before you fell at some point last night.

After he watched me ride him, both of us coming simultaneously, he carried me to the bathroom so I could clean up because I couldn’t feel my legs, then he put me back in his bed and told me not to move. He walked out, leaving me with the vision that is his solid ass as he crashed around in his kitchen, before returning with soda and snacks.

All it did was remind me just how close to perfect he is.

We ate and drank, still naked and still in post-sex bliss, until he threw the empty plate to the floor and rolled over and devoured me instead.

And I can confirm that rounds three and four were just as mind-blowing as one and two.

I lost count of how many orgasms that man gave me, but I know for a fact that it was more than I’ve had in the years we’ve been apart.

What a depressing thought.

He’s given me more in one night than I’ve given myself in years.

But as amazing as it was, the bright light of day brings my harsh reality front and center once more.

I’ve run away from my problems and landed in Colton Roger’s bed.

Déjà vu at its finest.

It also brings a hangover and what I’m sure is going to be a lot of pain when I try and move.

With a sigh, I reach for Colton’s hand, hoping that I can slide out from beneath him and leave before he wakes.

It’s a dickish move, but the fear of him waking up and regretting everything that happened last night, everything he said, is too real.

There is no way I can handle him looking at me in the way I’m scared he will. Last night, he treated me like “old” Ella.

If morning brings him new clarity and he sees me for who I really am now, then…no. I can’t do that.

I just manage to lift the dead weight of his arm enough to be able to slide out when a deep groan comes from behind me. Before I know what’s happening, his arm is back in place and I’m pinned to a very hard, very hot body.

“Get those thoughts out of your head right now,” he demands, his voice raspy from sleep. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Heat surges through me at the unspoken promise.

I should be done. I should be exhausted, utterly spent. I’ve no idea why the thought of him taking me again makes desire pulse deep inside my pussy and my clit demand attention.

“I was just going to pee.”

“Liar.”

I gasp.

“I know you, Bombshell. Better than you give me credit for. And right now, you are freaking out and trying to escape in case I wake up and regret last night.”

“No, I?—”

“That was exactly what you were doing,” he interrupts before I can lie again.

I fall silent, all the words that were on the tip of my tongue lost.

“Talk to me, Ella,” he says, his voice softer now. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“Colt,” I warn.

“I hate that look in your eyes, El. You think that just because you’ve grown some curves, you’re not desirable anymore. You think that just because you have a few marks I—men—no longer want you.”

I want to say something, although I have no idea what, because everything he just said is so painfully true it slices straight through my chest, making it hard to even breathe.

“Well, I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit. I—men—fucking love curves, Bombshell.”

Releasing his vise-like hold on me, no longer scared that I’m about to bolt, he slides his palm over my stomach.

“This,” he says, squeezing gently, “these” —he caresses the swell of my thigh— “and these…fuck me, these,” he groans, cupping one of my breasts, “are fucking epic.”

Tears burn red hot at the backs of my eyes.

I fight them as hard as I can. I’ve already cried on him. Those were more tears than he should ever see. I don’t want to give him more.

“These,” he says, finding the scar on my belly and tracing a line over it before tracking the marks on my thigh, “are nothing to be ashamed of. They show your strength, your ability to fight. They show the kind of person you are and the things you’re able to overcome. They’re not ugly, Ella. They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful and so fucking sexy.”

To prove his point, he rolls his hips, grinding his erection against my ass.

“Who are you?” I whisper, my voice choked with emotion.

He chuckles.

“I’m just me, baby.”

“No,” I argue. “I’ve never met this version of you.”

“And I’ve never met this version of you. So consider this us getting to know each other properly.”

“I’m pretty sure we have very good knowledge of each other,” I counter, trying to keep this conversation safe.

“No,” he states, understanding exactly what I’m trying to do and refusing to let me avoid his line of thought. “We know each other’s bodies and what we wanted each other to know.”

Unable to argue with that, I stay silent.

“You showed me your confident side, and I showed you what an asshole I can be. Both of those things are only skin deep, though, aren’t they? There’s so much more hiding beneath.”

“Colton,” I warn, both hating and loving the way he draws me in.

Yes, back in the day, he had all the moves to make any girl fall at his feet. Clearly, he still does. But this…the things he’s saying right now. It’s more than that. It’s him. The real him.

The him I always wanted to dig out from beneath the player he let the world believe he was.

My heart pounds and my trembling fingers curl into fists in an attempt to calm the tremble.

This shouldn’t be so scary. Opening myself up and allowing him to see what I always hide so deep down inside me is scarier than leaving Texas, than turning up at Letty’s door—even more than standing in the stadium last night and waiting for him to see me.

I’m pretty sure it is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced.

And I know why.

He holds the power to rip me apart, to shatter me in a way no one else ever has.

Without permission, Colton stole my heart years ago. And while we might have been apart all this time, and without knowing it, he never gave it back.

“Why are you doing this?” I whisper.

“I’m not doing anything.” He rolls his hips again. “I want to be, though.”

A laugh of disbelief falls from my lips.

“What?” he asks, nuzzling my neck.

My entire body erupts with goosebumps as his hands begin wandering again.

“I’m not sure I’ve got it in me to go again.”

“You’re right, you don’t have it in you…yet.”

“Maybe I was wrong,” I gasp as he bites my neck.

“Oh?”

“You haven’t changed all that much.”

“You’d miss me too much if I had.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I don’t mean for the words to come out loud, and the second they do, he stills.

“You missed me?” he asks hesitantly as if he doesn’t believe it.

“Colt,” I whisper, finding his hand against my stomach and twisting our fingers together. “More than I should confess to.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, his lips brushing my shoulder.“What happened, Ella?” he asks, his thumb brushing over my scar.

Despite the fact he can’t see me, I close my eyes, cutting myself off from reality.

“I had a car accident after graduation.”

He stills behind me.

“I…I was upset after the way we ended things and…shit,” I hiss, not wanting to go down this road.

“You were distracted because of me?” he asks, his voice cold and void of emotion.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Silence falls between us. If it’s possible, his muscles pull even tighter, his grip on me harder.

I need to say something. To shatter the tension, to reduce his guilt. But before I figure out what, he cracks.

“No,” he booms before jumping out of bed like someone just lit his ass on fire. “No. Ella. NO.”

He’s gone before I get a chance to say anything, storming into his adjoining bathroom and slamming the door so hard it makes the bed beneath me rock.

Pushing up so I’m sitting, I clutch the sheets to my chest as tears spill over my lashes.

I stare at the bathroom door before glancing at the one that would allow me to escape.

Running would be the easy option.

I could leave his penthouse, leave Seattle, and return home. Back to my boring life and a man who only wants me to fit in where he deems suitable.

But that isn’t a life I want. I want to be a man’s everything. I want him to want me and love me for the person I am. I don’t want him to make me hide my scars; I want him to embrace them, trace them with his tongue, kiss them and caress them. I want him to tell me that a few extra inches aren’t something to be ashamed of, but instead something to embrace because they’re sexy.

I want someone who is going to make me a better person, not hide me away from the world like I’m something to be embarrassed about.

No, I want more than what I’ve left behind.

I want what I had yesterday.

I want…Colt.

The Colt I met last night. The one who cared about more than just getting his cock wet and ensuring he made his girl scream so he could brag to his friends.

I want the man who told me I was beautiful and strong. Who saw past the changes to my body and treated me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Without second-guessing myself, I drag his sheet from the bed and wrap it around my body before taking off toward the closed door.

If I want things to change, I’m going to need to fight for it.

I’ve made it this far; I might as well dive in deeper.