28. Ella

28

ELLA

“ W ait,” I say, my face practically glued to the window as Colt parks his massive truck outside where I assume we’re going next. “You’re taking me to Paradise?”

He laughs but doesn’t respond.

“We’re going out, out?”

“What’s wrong? Don’t you dance anymore, Bombshell?” he asks, his eyes dark and hungry. They’ve been the same since he was eating me out, and something tells me that if I were to look down, I’d find other evidence that he’s still thinking about it.

Hell knows I am. Although not too hard, because I’m still very aware that I’m now walking around with no panties getting all hot and bothered over the man sitting beside me.

“I…I have no idea,” I answer honestly. “I can’t remember the last time I went out dancing.”

“Well, I think it’s time we end your dry spell, Miss Myers,” he teases.

“You’re quite good at ending those, hmm?”

His smile spreads, and the sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s the best freaking noise, and I had no idea just how sad my life was without it.

“I’m sure trying my best. Now…shall we?”

“It’ll be just like old times,” I muse after Colt’s jogged around the front of his truck and helped me out, stopping me from flashing everyone who seems to have turned around to stare the second he emerged.

When it’s just the two of us, it’s easy to forget who he really is.

He’s one of the most famous, most recognizable men in Seattle right now.

And he’s helping me out of his truck and taking me dancing.

The entire thing makes my head spin. But I’m done second-guessing it.

If Colt didn’t want to be here with me, then he wouldn’t be.

It’s time I started trusting those around me and their actions instead of the bullshit Chad filled my head with.

I am good enough.

I am desirable enough.

I am wanted.

“That’s the idea,” he muses, tugging me into his side the second I’m on my feet and wrapping his arm around my waist.

“We’re drawing a crowd,” I mutter, noticing that those first few people have multiplied.

No one says anything, or even attempts to, but they’re there all the same, watching us.

With my head held high, I walk beside Colt and up to the two guys working security.

“Evening,” Colt greets, a soft smile playing on his lips and a relaxed posture letting me know that these guys aren’t strangers.

“Evenin’. How it’s going, Rogers?”

“Got a beautiful woman under my arm; what could be better than that?”

My cheeks turn to lava as they both turn their attention to me.

“Beautiful indeed,” one of them agrees.

Colt’s hold on me tightens possessively, and I can’t help but swoon at the move.

“Well, have a great night. We have a good crowd tonight.”

“Thanks,” Colt mutters, the single word much frostier than his first greeting as he glares at the one who called me beautiful.

“Are you jealous, Colton Rogers?” I taunt, returning the favor from earlier.

“I didn’t like the way he looked at you,” he replies, his fingers flexing on my hips.

“He was old enough to be my father.”

“So? He still has eyes.”

“Come on, caveman. I need a drink before you get me out on that dance floor.”

His body vibrates with his growl of approval.

“Sounds like the best idea you’ve had all night.”

I veer off to the left, but I don’t get very far because stairs, to what I assume is a VIP area, appear to our right.

“Not tonight, Bombshell. I’m treating my girl to all the benefits of being a Saint.”

Before I know what’s happening, we’re halfway up the stairs.

The security guys at the top already have the ropes pulled back for us.

“Okay, so this isn’t the out, out I was expecting,” I confess as we turn into the main part of the VIP bar.

Everything is black, chrome, and glass.

It’s stunning.

And as I glance around the people who are up here, I realize that they are, too.

The music might be pumping through the air like it is downstairs, but everything else is calm.

There are people in booths and standing at tables, drinking and talking, and in the far corner, there is a dance floor with a crowd of people enjoying themselves.

It’s bizarre. I’ve spent the last few years in my small hometown in Texas. There was barely anywhere to go drinking and dancing on a weekend, let alone a weeknight.

But here, it might as well be a Friday night.

Just like Colt intended, it takes me right back to times gone by.

In only minutes, he has me at the bar, and in front of me is what was always my drink of choice.

Vodka cranberry.

Something else I haven’t had for quite a while.

Picking it up, I pause with it halfway to my lips.

My skin heats with Colt’s attention, and I feel it all the way down to my toes. What he did to me in the bathroom earlier was epic. But it was also the most perfect tease. It was a promise, and I’m already getting impatient for him to follow through on it.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like that anymore?”

I shake my head, a smile playing on my lips.

“Thank you,” I whisper shout, ensuring he can hear it over the music.

A deep V forms between his brows as his eyes bounce between mine. “You’re welcome,” he says, sounding almost confused. “But it’s just a drink.”

“I know. I’m thanking you for all of it.”

“Trust me, taking you out really is no hardship. There isn’t anything else I’d rather be doing right now.”

I quirk a brow at him.

Honestly, when we left the Italian restaurant, I really thought he was going to floor the gas pedal and get us back to his apartment in record time.

I might not know Seattle all that well, but I figured out not too long later that we weren’t heading to his fancy penthouse.

Ignoring his water on the bar, he takes a step closer and dips low, letting his lips brush the shell of my ear.

“That’s a lie. There are plenty of things I’d rather be doing. And all of them involve you being naked and us being surrounded by fewer people.”

A violent shudder rips down my spine, making me wobble in my crazy heels as the picture he paints slams into me.

“Just a few?” I tease.

“Well, if you’re into being watched, who am I to refuse you?”

Abandoning my drink on the bar beside his, I throw my arms around his shoulders. No one up here has so much as glanced our way since we arrived. I have no reason to hold back.

“What I’m into, Colton Rogers,” I say, dropping my voice, “is you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as I press our bodies together.

Just like I suspected, he’s hard. The thickness presses against the softness of my belly as heat pools between my thighs.

“I’m so fucking into you, it’s not even funny. Always have been.”

“Colt,” I breathe.

“Drink, Ella,” he demands, his voice deliciously raspy. “Then we’re dancing.”

Excitement flutters in my belly, and I quickly reach for my glass and throw the contents back like I’m still in college.

Taking his hand, I spin around and drag him toward the dance floor.

“I love it when you get all authoritative,” he whispers in my ear once I’m in his arms, our bodies moving in time to the sexy beat of the music.

“You bring it out in me,” I say, spinning around and thrusting my ass back into his crotch.

He grunts and grabs my hips.

“And you’re a tease.”

Reaching behind me, I thread my fingers through his already messy hair.

I thoroughly fucked it up in the bathroom, and he hasn’t attempted to fix it. Something tells me that he’s wearing his post-sex hair like a badge of honor. And I am here for it. He looks mussed up and sexy as hell.

Dropping his lips to my neck, he kisses and nips at my skin as the song playing rolls into another.

Needing those lips on mine, I twist around and reach up to steal them.

“It really is just like old times,” I murmur before taking what I need.

“Nah,” he says breathlessly when we come up for air. His eyes find mine, and I lose all sense of everything as I drown in the depths of them. “I might be planning on taking you back to my bed tonight, but I have no intention of ever letting you go again. You’re mine now, Ella.”

I gasp when my back hits a wall. I had no idea we were even moving.

I guess those glasses of prosecco at the restaurant and the vodka here are beginning to kick in.

Sliding one hand down my hip to my thigh, he hooks my leg up around his waist, allowing him to grind against me.

“Colt,” I hiss. “I don’t have any panties on.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t allow anyone to get a look at what’s mine. Trust me?” he asks again.

My reaction to that exact question in the restaurant comes back to me, and I realize that everything has changed even in the few hours since then.

Holding his stare, I tell him the terrifying truth teetering on the tip of my tongue.

“Yes, Colt. I trust you.”

“Fuck,” he groans before dipping down and kissing me impossibly hard.

Every single one of my senses is stolen by him.

The songs continue, the other people around us keep dancing, but I don’t notice any of it.

It’s him.

It’s always been him, and I’m pretty sure it always will be.

“I need you, Bombshell. I’m so fucking hard. I need to be inside your tight little pussy and feel you coming all over me.”

“Colt,” I gasp, already riding the edge from him grinding up against me. “Yes,” I agree. “Take me home.” I wanted it to be a demand, but I’m pretty sure it just sounds like begging.

His fingers clench my ass, his need for me growing as unignorable as mine for him.

“Can’t wait that long,” he groans as if he’s in physical pain.

Before I know what’s happening, we’re moving.

“Colt,” I cry, desperately trying to keep up with him in my heels as he drags me along behind him.

“No, we can’t—” But my words are cut off as the door he was heading for with “staff only” written across the front opens for him and we stumble into the dimly lit space beyond.

“Oh, wow,” I breathe, finding a wall of windows in front of me that overlooks the main dance floor below.

There’s a bang and a click behind me, but I’m too enthralled with watching the bodies moving beneath me to focus on it.

I startle when Colt’s hand lands on my waist and the heat of his body burns down my front.

“Right here, right now, Ella.”

It takes me a few seconds to decipher his words, but the second he drags the straps of my dress down my arms, exposing my breasts to everyone beyond the glass, I get a damn good idea of what he’s talking about.

The need to argue burns through me, but then the warmth of his hands cup me, and I’m gone.

Lost to the power that Colton Rogers has over my body.

Screw the rest of the world.

The things that happen when we’re together are more important.