29. Ella

29

ELLA

C olt pinches my nipples, and my head falls back against his shoulder.

“Look at you,” he muses before kissing down my throat. “So fucking sexy.”

“Colt,” I moan, my entire body tingling with need.

Right now, I feel like her again.

I feel like the wild girl he first met. And it’s addictive as hell.

“Imagine how you look to all of them down there,” he groans, his voice deep and desperate.

My eyes fly open at his words and my gaze locks on the crowd. Not a single one of them is looking up here; they’re all too lost in their own worlds.

But they could.

And if they did…

Excitement rushes through my body, all of it colliding between my thighs.

I don’t realize my reaction is palpable until Colt groans.

“You like that, don’t you, Bombshell? All those people seeing you exactly as I see you. Beautiful.” Kiss. “Sexy.” Kiss. “Mind-blowing.” Kiss. “But there’s one thing they’ll be feeling that I’m not. Do you know what that is, El?”

I shake my head, unable to reply as he turns my body to nothing but a burning puddle of need with only his hands on my breasts and his lips on my neck.

“Jealousy, Bombshell. All those men down there, and hell, probably quite a few women, are jealous as fuck that I’m the one with my hands on you and not them.”

A shudder rips down my spine at the sincerity in his tone.

“You’re mine, Ella. You’ve always been mine, and you always will be.”

“Oh god,” I whimper.

Those words.

I feel like I’ve been waiting all my goddamn life to hear those words spill from Colton Rogers’ lips. And while this might not be how I dreamed of hearing them, it’s everything.

“Colt, please,” I beg.

“Put your hands on the window and stick that luscious ass out for me, baby.”

Unable to do anything but follow orders, my palms press against the cold glass that separates us and I arch my back.

I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Colt wipe his hand across his mouth, his eyes locked on my ass.

Every single one of his actions shatters a little more of my confidence issues and reveals a little more of the old me.

I love it.

I love— “Colton,” I cry as he spanks my ass.

The burn isn’t nearly as hot as it would be if my dress wasn’t still there, but fuck, it’s good.

“Your thighs are slick for me right now, aren’t they?” he murmurs, his eyes darting between mine and my ass.

“How about you find out, hotshot?” I taunt.

He scrubs his hand down his face again. But as I’m about to demand he hurries the fuck up, he jumps into action.

My dress is hitched up around my waist, fully exposing me to him.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” he mutters, the awe in his voice giving me the confidence to widen my stance and wiggle my ass for him. “Fuck. Need inside you now,” he grunts, ripping his pants open with so much fervor I’m surprised he doesn’t actually destroy them.

In seconds, his pants and boxers are around his thick, muscular thighs, and he’s fisting his shaft.

He’s hard. So hard and thick and?—

“Oh god, yes,” I moan when he rubs the swollen head through my folds, teasing my clit with perfect circles. “More.”

He chuckles darkly but doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to; our bodies are doing all the talking now.

With one of his giant hands clamped around my hip, he drags his dick up to my entrance, pushing just the tip inside.

“Oh my god,” I cry, my palm slapping the glass as my impatience gets the better of me.

He always knew exactly how to drive me to the brink of insanity.

He stills, and I panic that he’s about to change his mind.

But then, his grip tightens and a loud, “Mine,” rips through the air before he punches his hips forward and surges inside me.

“COLTON,” I cry as my body fights to adjust to him.

There’s a bite of pain, reminding me how my body has gone from zero to sixty in the past few days when it comes to sex. But I welcome the reminder.

He pulls out almost as fast as he thrusts inside and begins a punishing rhythm.

My legs wobble on my heels, my arms barely stopping me from plummeting headfirst into the window, but I don’t worry about it because I know for a fact that he’s not going to let me fall.

It’s not the first time I’ve put this much trust in him, but it sure is the first time I have any kind of confidence about what comes after.

“Ella,” he pants, his voice so deep, so thick with desire that it makes my head spin and my pussy clench around him.

I made him sound like that.

Me.

The woman with the flabby belly, cellulite, and scars.

His hand slips from my hip and moves up my body, squeezing my breasts when he gets to them, but he doesn’t linger. Instead, he wraps his fingers around my throat and drags me up so that my back is against his front.

“Gonna fill this pussy, Bombshell,” he warns as his other hand makes a beeline for my clit.

“Yes,” I breathe, twisting my head so I can find his lips.

But before I can claim them, my eyes snag on his.

They’re dark, his pupils blown with desire, but there is so much more. The emotion, the vulnerability that also lingers makes my breath catch.

This is the real Colton.

The playboy I used to have fun with at college was just a small part of who he really is. I knew it then, but I don’t think I ever truly appreciated just how much of himself he held back.

“Ella,” he groans, leaning forward to rest his brow against mine for a beat.

He feels it, too. This shift between us. It was always intense when we collided. But this…this is so much more.

“Not letting you go,” he whispers. It’s so quiet, I almost miss it over my heaving breaths. “Never again,” he promises himself. “Mine.”

Before I get a chance to even think about a reply, his lips are on mine and his fingers finally find my clit.

He swallows my cry of pleasure as he plays me perfectly.

And he’s still kissing me minutes later when his cock swells inside me right as he thrusts as deep as he possibly can in this position and sends me flying over the edge.

His grip on my body tightens until it’s borderline painful, but I welcome it. I want his bruises on me tomorrow. No, not want. Need.

I need to wake up tomorrow morning with the evidence of this branded into my skin as a reminder that it’s real.

Having Colt like this has been a dream for so long, sometimes it’s hard to believe this is real.

He doesn’t pull out of me when he’s done, and for the longest time we just stand there wrapped up in each other as the deep bass of the music flooding the club vibrates through our bodies.

Eventually, though, he dips his head low and brushes the tip of his nose against mine.

“I think I need to take you home now,” he whispers.

I startle, my eyes shooting up to his.

My brows pinch as my stomach knots.

Seeing it, he cups my cheeks and leans in close.

“Get those thoughts out of your head right now. There is no fucking chance of me taking you back to Kane’s tonight. You’re mine, and you’re going to be sleeping in my bed, where you belong.”

My heart trips over itself, and I let out an ugly sob despite the fact a wide smile spreads across my lips.

Cold rushes over my skin the second he releases me. He tucks himself away and saunters across the room.

“Oh my god,” I gasp when he suddenly turns a light on and I discover that we’re in a freaking office. “Colton, what the hell?”

He chuckles as he pulls two tissues from a box on the desk beside him.

“Clean up,” he demands, holding them out to me and totally ignoring my question.

Hesitantly, I reach out before turning my back on him and attempting to do something about the mess between my thighs.

“You’re cute,” he breathes.

“Not feeling particularly cute right now,” I mutter.

“You’re trying to hide from me, but you’re standing right in front of that window.”

I look up and gasp when I remember exactly where we are.

“Damn it, Colt,” I snap, although there is no fire behind it. How can there be when my muscles are still tingling with my release, and I can still feel the effects of him being inside me?

He continues laughing when I throw the tissues at him, but he isn’t fazed at all.

Shimmying myself back into my dress, I drag my fingers through my hair in an attempt to fix what I’m sure is a disaster.

“Come on,” he says, long before I’ve got myself in any state to face people.

Taking my hand, he tugs me back toward the door we entered through.

This time, I notice more than I did when we first stumbled inside, and I pause when he presses his hand against what looks like a scanner before the door unlocks for us.

“Colt,” I warn, watching him with my brows pinched.

He shakes his head before glancing back at me with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The second we emerge into the VIP section of the club, he makes a beeline for the exit.

Unlike before, a few people look in our direction, and the second their eyes land on me, my cheeks blaze red hot.

A server with a tray full of champagne glasses passes in front of us, and with moves that Colt usually saves for the field, he snags a glass without her noticing and passes it over.

“You look like you need this,” he says, his fingers brushing mine as I take it.

I can’t argue. I think I might need more than one glass right now.

“Wait. We can’t take this with us,” I argue when he continues tugging me toward the stairs.

“Like hell we can’t.”

Pulling me into his side, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and drops a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re with Colton Rogers, Bombshell. You can do whatever you fucking like.”

“Jesus. I forgot just how big that ego of yours was, Hotshot.”

With my drink in my hand, we make our way down the stairs and to the exit.

There’s only one guy working security now, and while he glances at me, I don’t get the vibes I did from the other one.

Colt nods at him as we approach.

“Having a good night, Joe?” he asks.

“Not too bad, Boss. You?”

He holds me tighter and his eyes briefly meet mine.

“Couldn’t be better. Enjoy the rest of it, yeah? I know I’m going to.”

We’re on the move again before my fuzzy brain catches up with me.

Colt helps me up into his truck, stealing a quick kiss before closing me in and moving around to his side.

I’ve managed to get my thoughts together by the time he climbs in with me.

“Boss?” I blurt. Okay, so maybe “together” wasn’t the right description.

He shrugs one shoulder before starting the engine and pulling away from the sidewalk.

“You own that place?” I ask.

He glances over, his eyes glittering with amusement and a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I’m not just a pretty face and good with a ball, you know,” he teases.

“I know that, Colt.”

“Football isn’t going to be a forever career. One day, I’ll wake up old and it’ll be done.”

“Not necessarily. Look at your dad,” I argue. He’s had a fantastic career coaching since his playing days came to an end.

He shrugs again.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I just…I dunno, wanted to be a grown-up for once, or something.”

Reaching over, I squeeze his thigh.

“I’m so proud of you, Colt.”

He shakes his head, refusing to accept my words.

“What? You’re amazing. You’re living your dream right now playing for the Saints, but you’re also thinking about the future. You should be so proud of yourself.”

“No one knows about Paradise,” he confesses.

I try to hide my smile at discovering another part of this incredible man, but I fail miserably.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Twisting our fingers together, Colt lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles.

He doesn’t say any more as he drives us toward his penthouse. He wants to, but I don’t push. When the time is right, he’ll let the words out. I have to trust that.

The Colt sitting beside me now is a very different man from the one I knew before. And I think the changes in him have hit him just as hard as my own.

Where my ability to trust has been shattered; I’m not sure he’s ever allowed anyone to get close enough to even consider trusting them.

Who knows—maybe we’ll be able to find a way to move past our issues together.