Chapter 2

2

Melissa

C olton takes the lead in showing me around while Ethan and Mitch handle the day’s chores with their ranch hands. Darla has errands to run, so I’m left with Colton to teach me the ins and outs of the place. I’m excited, not just because Colton is simply a pleasure to be around, but also because I’m surrounded by hills and the Nebraskan countryside. I’m almost a free woman, and it feels like a dream come true—even though I’m only getting a spoonful of it for the time being.

“How do you like it so far?” Colton asks as we walk across the pasture.

The rain has stopped, and I’ve been given a spare pair of boots, two sizes too big, for this particular segment of the tour, but I’m loving every second of it. “It’s beautiful,” I say. “And it must be a whole lot of work.”

“It is a lot of work, hard work, although in the winter there’s less to do,” he says. “We still let the cattle out for a bit, though. It keeps them healthy and does the same for us. The winters haven’t been as harsh lately anyway. We’ve had entire weeks in December when there were still patches of grass left for them to graze.”

“And it’s just you guys.”

He nods once. I can see the creek ahead; its crystalline water shimmers in the sunlight that peeks through the clouds.

“We hire a few more guys during the summer. If this whole Path to Freedom thing works out for us, we might use the program for that, too,” he replies, then gives me a long, curious look. “I understand you’ve got two years left on your sentence.”

“That’s right.”

It’s not my favorite subject, and Colton can clearly tell, but it doesn’t stop him from probing deeper. I can’t really hold it against him. I am a criminal in the eyes of the law, and they’re taking a huge leap of faith by welcoming me into their home.

“You were a drug dealer?” he asks.

“My sentence was for possession with the intent to distribute.”

“You felt the need to specify that,” Colton smiles. “Why?”

“Because details matter, at least to me they do.”

He nods slowly, never taking his eyes off me. Something in his gaze is enticing and makes me want to know more about him. The spark of a youthful soul is wrapped in the hardened body of a man in his mid-forties who has likely seen his share of hardships. Darla said they were deployed. So, military men, all three of them. That means they’re disciplined and strong-willed, unlike like my usual choice in men.

For once, I’m drawn to someone who isn’t an emotional disaster and in need of fixing. Not that I could fix anyone. That was the biggest mistake of my life, imagining I could fix Jake Miller, that true love would change him. Boy, was I wrong…

“So, you were in possession and you intended to distribute, but you weren’t actually distributing,” Colton says, picking apart my statement.

Suddenly, I feel anxious and I take a few deep, calming breaths. I can’t fall apart now; I’ve come too far, and tomorrow marks my first day on the job. I cannot appear troubled in any way.

“I was in possession, yes, but I wasn’t distributing. The judge decided differently,” I reply.

Colton stops me in my tracks. “You don’t agree with his verdict.”

“There’s a lot I don’t agree with, but I can’t change the past. All I can do is look forward.” I offer a faint smile. “Darla said you guys were deployed?”

“You’re not much for changing the subject, but I’ll give you a free pass.” He laughs lightly, then leads me along the banks of the creek.

“I mean, if you’re worried about me and any potential criminal activities, please don’t,” I say. “I have absolutely no intention of dealing drugs. Never did, never will.”

“So, then what were you doing with – how much did they find in your possession again?”

“Four kilos.” I say absently, trying hard not to dwell on the worst night of my life. “But it’s a long story and I’d rather not get into it.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Colton says. “It’s about building trust. Yes, we were deployed. Ethan, Mitch, and I served in the same unit for about twelve years.”

“That’s a long time. How many tours is that?”

“Five. But we changed locations.”

“Marines?”

“Even better,” he chuckles softly, and his gorgeous smile makes my skin tingle all over. “Rangers. Leading the way.”

We move downstream, then take a right along one of the many paths in the pasture. It leads us back to the ranch house just as the sun vanishes beyond the hills.

“Can I ask you something?” I say after a long silence.

“Sure.”

“Darla said she can’t cook for you anymore. She has a condition…”

“That is correct. The doctors are still running tests and monitoring her on a monthly basis, trying to figure out what syndrome they’re dealing with, but it’s definitely something neurological,” Colton says. “Her bloodwork is fine, and her blood pressure puts the rest of us to shame. Darla’s a strong woman, and there’s a good chance she’ll outlive us all.”

I smile. “Yeah, she’s a dynamo.”

Colton grins. “We could handle the cooking ourselves, but we have other work to do. We could potentially do the cooking during the winter, but if a blizzard hits, we’ve all go to pitch in to make sure we don’t lose any cattle. And when summer comes, we’re busy most of the day, which leaves no time to cook. I barely manage to whip up a few eggs for myself in the morning, let alone breakfast for the whole crew.”

“I understand why you need a cook.”

“Yeah, the last time Darla tried to handle our breakfast, it went sideways.”

I give him a curious look, further intrigued by the amused look in his blue eyes and the way he smiles, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth. Damn, this man turns me on, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

“We still kid her about that particular incident just to rile her up once in a while. You know, I should mention…” He gets in front of me again, but this time he’s closer. Much closer. So close, in fact, that I smell in his musky scent and briefly imagine myself wrapped in his strong arms. “Darla might come across as a hard woman, but she’s a softie on the inside.”

“I know she doesn’t trust me,” I say, lowering my gaze.

But Colton gently clasps my chin between his thumb and index finger, causing me to look up at him. His touch reverberates across every inch of my skin, and it quickly becomes evident that I am not imagining any of this. He is close. He is touching me. His lips are dangerously close to mine.

“Darla doesn’t trust anybody, regardless of their background. All you have to do is be consistent. Let your words match your actions, and she’ll see you precisely for who you are.”

“You seem more trusting.”

“I’ve read your file, Melissa. You didn’t even have a criminal record before you went to prison,” Colton replies, his gaze darkening for a moment. “There’s a story there, and you’re not ready to share it with me. I get it. Like I said, it’s about building trust, but I’m willing to wait, especially if you wish to carry out the rest of your sentence on this ranch.”

“I do.”

“Good. We look out for our own,” he says.

“I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

“I have no doubt.” He smiles and changes the subject. “Mr. Jeffries had nothing but glowing reviews about your culinary skills. We know what we signed up for.”

The next day, I wake up feeling like a new woman. The bed was comfy and my room is huge compared to my tiny prison cell. I bask in the hot shower of my ensuite bathroom, then pat myself dry and put on a pair of jeans and a grey shirt Darla left for me on a chair by the dresser. I’m looking forward to dabbling in the brand-new kitchen. They had it refitted and modernized, and it is beautiful.

I notice a note in the front pocket of my shirt. I’ll take you into town tomorrow to get you some new clothes , it says. Expenses covered by the ranch. D .

I smile inwardly as I pull my long black hair into a tight bun, then apply some moisturizer to a face that already seems ten years younger. It’s a new day. Yet as I reach for the door, a claw reaches into my chest and clutches my heart, its grip tightening until I can’t breathe from the pain.

“Oh, shit,” I manage as I struggle to breathe. The last thing I need is a panic attack coming out of nowhere. But my knees buckle nonetheless, and I fall to the floor. “Come on,” I wheeze. “You’ve got this…” The pain in my chest fades and the room comes back into focus.

Yeah, I’ve got this , I tell myself, determined to power through the first part of the day without falling apart again.

As soon as I reach the first floor, I’m hit with the unmistakable scent of freshly brewed coffee. Walking into the kitchen, I find Ethan in front of the espresso machine, waiting for another coffee to finish dripping.

“Good morning,” I say, stealing a quick glance at him before I step into the cooking area.

“Figured you could use it,” Ethan replies without looking my way.

I take out plates and bowls from the cupboards below the counter island and lay them out, then dive into the fridge for my ingredients. Colton provided me with a full list of culinary preferences and dietary restrictions—Sammy is the only one who needs to watch his cholesterol, so I’m delighted to find a package of turkey bacon in the fridge with his name on it.

“Thank you,” I say to Ethan as I get to cracking the eggs in one of the bowls, my hands moving automatically throughout the rest of the process. “It does smell nice.”

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, setting my mug on the table in the breakfast area.

“Like a baby,” I chuckle as I whisk my eggs, adding a bit of milk in along with the seasoning to make the perfect scramble. The bacon is frying in the pan in the meantime. “It’s awfully quiet out here.”

Ethan nods slowly as he takes a seat by the window. He looks dangerously hot in that white, long-sleeved shirt, his blue eyes scanning me from head to toe. I feel awfully self-conscious, briefly trying to imagine the kind of woman that men like him and his brother would go for. I think of a blonde, the all-American type with a perfect body and toned arms.

I don’t see myself in that image with my thick thighs and plump behind. I’ve always been on the plus side—which is probably why I settled for someone like Jake Miller in the first place. He was a walking red flag, yet I went all-in because, deep down, I was scared I’d end up alone.

“You’ll get used to the quiet,” Ethan says. “I like it. It beats gunfire and bombshells.”

“I don’t know what those sounds are like in real life, but I’ve seen my share of movies,” I mutter as I take the bacon out and pour the eggs over the grease in the pan.

My back is to Ethan, yet I can feel his gaze still very much on me. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, a tingling sensation unraveling down my spine.

“It’s not something I’d wish on anyone,” Ethan says, his tone clipped.

A minute passes in heavy silence while I listen for noises throughout the house, hoping the others might join us soon. It feels awkward. I’m not sure if Ethan likes me or if he’s just studying me like I’m some sort of critter the cat dragged in.

“I read your file,” Ethan finally says.

“I figured you would,” I reply, already knowing where this conversation is going. I’ve already danced this jig with Darla, then Colton. I’d hoped one of them would bring the others up to speed, but I’ve got a feeling that each of them wants to personally test me in one form or another. “I appreciate this opportunity and won’t let any of you down.”

“Can you score something for me?”

I almost drop the wooden spoon as I whirl around to give him the nastiest, most appalled glare I can muster. “Excuse me?”

“Good reaction.” Ethan smiles and takes a long sip of his coffee.

My blood is boiling. “That’s not funny and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Tough shit, Melissa. You’re in my house now. I need to make sure I can trust you.”

“I thought Warden Jeffries clarified any doubts you might’ve—”

“I don’t care about your warden’s opinion,” Ethan shoots back. “I build my own, based on what I see and hear right here.”

I need a deep breath for this. “My eggs. Shit,” I mumble and turn back to the stove, rushing to stir and keep the scrambling at the appropriate softness before I dump the whole pan into a separate bowl.

He’s still watching me.

Heat pools between my legs.

“My methods may be unorthodox, but I know what I’m looking for.”

“And what are you looking for?”

I turn around again, this time to get a clean pan on the stove while the other goes into the sink.

“Someone we can trust with our most vulnerable side,” Ethan says.

“Your stomachs?” I chuckle softly as I start mixing the pancake batter next. My recipe is quick and simple, so about one minute later, I’m pouring the first pancake into the simmering pan.

“We can start there, yeah,” Ethan’s voice tickles my ears.

I didn’t even hear him get up, let alone walk over to my side of the kitchen and get so close to me. “What do you mean… start there?” I manage, afraid to turn around.

I get a whiff of his soap, and my fingers tingle with the thought of touching his skin.

I glance over my shoulder and see him leaning against the counter island. There are several inches between us, but the air feels thick enough to slice as I try to focus on preparing the rest of the pancakes.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ethan says, his voice sounding like a purr in the back of my head. “I guess we’ll figure it out as we go along as long as you don’t betray our trust.”

Instantly, my back stiffens, and I answer him curtly. “I have no intention of going back to prison,” I tell Ethan. “As a matter of fact, I have no intention of ever getting on the wrong side of the law ever again.”

“That’s good,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I glance back and catch my breath. He’s so tall that he towers over me and when Colton enters the kitchen I can note how the resemblance between him and Ethan is striking.

Unlike Ethan, however, Colton seems to be in a better, brighter mood. “Good morning, Melissa,” he says. “Hope you slept well.”

“Like a baby,” Ethan replies in my stead as I finish flipping the last of the pancakes.

“Glad to hear that,” Colton chuckles and stops by the coffee machine first.

“Who slept like a baby?” Mitch asks, coming into the kitchen.

“Melissa,” Colton tells Mitch.

“Ah, good. That’s a new bed, by the way,” he quips, patiently waiting for Colton to brew him a cup as well. “We got it especially for you.”

“I’m beyond grateful,” I reply, half-smiling as I place the pancakes on a large platter, then drizzle maple syrup on top, followed by a sprinkle of powdered sweetener and handfuls of berries and roasted pumpkin seeds.

The food catches Colton’s eye. “That looks incredible.”

“And edible,” Mitch adds, equally enthralled.

“It’s settled, then,” Ethan says. “She can cook.”

Sammy, the ranch manager, comes in. I need no introduction to recognize him. He’s as scrawny as Darla described him—though I did catch the affection she has for this kind of man. Sammy may be of retirement age, but he is as spry as Darla and just as hell-bent on living to a hundred.

“What the hell are you three doin’?” he barks at the Avery brothers and Mitch.

“Waiting for breakfast, obviously,” Ethan retorts, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Help the girl out and put those plates on the table,” Sammy says. “Mitch, get the cutlery out of the drawer. Y’all hired a cook, not a servant. Come on!”

I suppress a giggle, flustered and flattered by the old man’s rough chivalry. He comes over and offers me his hand. “I’m Sammy Winston, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, sir, and thank you for the support. It’s greatly appreciated,” I reply, surprised by the firmness of his handshake. He could easily break every bone in my hand if he wanted to.

“Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, darlin’,” he says. “These boys still need a whippin’ once in a while. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Colton chuckles as he helps Ethan and Mitch with setting the giant, cherrywood breakfast table. “Look at him, treating us like we’re the same sixteen-year-olds he used to kick in the ass whenever our paths crossed.”

“Pop and Ma are probably laughing up in heaven,” Ethan adds with a subtle smile. I note the hint of sadness in his voice. “Here, Sammy,” he says, pointing at the table, “are you happy?”

I let the men talk while I prep and carry the platters to the breakfast table one at a time, followed by the fresh fruit bowls and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. As soon as I’m done, I get to cleaning my workstation and rinsing the pots and pans before I load them in the dishwasher.

Kyle, Jason, and Darla come in, their eyes sparkling with excitement upon being greeted with the wonderful smells of a freshly cooked breakfast.

“Morning,” Darla says to me, then stops by the counter with an inquisitive look. “How’d you fare?”

“So far, so good.” I give her a soft smile. “Let’s hope they like the food.”

“It looks great,” she says with an appreciative nod, sadness enveloping her face. “It’s a shame I can barely taste any of it.”

Kyle and Jason step to her side, both flashing their broadest, friendliest smiles. Kyle is in his early twenties, skinny, with shaggy brown hair and wide eyes. Jason is thirtyish, chunky, and dark-haired, with equally big, equally warm eyes.

“I’m Kyle, ma’am.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I say, shaking their slightly trembling hands. “I look forward to working with you all.”

Darla rolls her eyes. “Wait until they start dragging all that mud from the pasture in on their boots. You’re not gonna love them then.”

They join the others at the table, and I notice that Ethan moved my coffee to the edge of the counter island. I give him a gracious nod and proceed to take the longest, most heartfelt sip. It tastes fantastic, with hints of berries and burnt wood. This is the fancy kind of coffee, not the inky crap I had in prison.

“What the hell are you doing over there?” Sammy asks me.

I’m somewhat confused. “Well, I finished cooking breakfast. Do you need me to do anything else?”

“Yeah, join us,” Colton replies, his eyes fixed on me, which makes my heart do flip-flops.

“Oh.”

“We look after our own, remember?” Colton says. “You cooked, and now—”

“You eat,” Mitch adds, already loading a plate for me.

Ethan pulls the last of the chairs out. “Sammy nailed it. You’re not a servant, you’re part of the crew.”

“And you eat with us,” Darla says.

I give a grateful smile and sit down to eat. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to be treated like a human being.

A few hours later, I handle the guys’ lunch with the same kind of ease.

The weather is growing colder, and since they’re taking the cattle out for one last graze before the first snowfall, I make sure their lunch is hearty and loaded with protein and good fats.

“What’s on your mind?” Colton asks.

I just finished loading the dishwasher, so deep in my thoughts, I barely noticed Ethan and Mitch heading out.

“Oh, just the usual,” I say, half-joking.

He gets up from the table and brings the last of the dishes over. “What’s the usual for you, Melissa? I’m genuinely curious.”

“Why, though? I’m just the kitchen staff. You don’t have to be friendly out of some kind of obligation.”

Colton frowns slightly, and I feel as though I keep saying the wrong things out of a fear of attachment.

“Just because you’re a Ridgeboro inmate doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of my respect,” he says. “You’re already doing a great job here, and the guys are happy.” He tilts his head as he looks at me curiously. “Are you afraid you’ll get sent back to prison if you get too friendly with the boss?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, don’t be,” he says. “And don’t ever feel like you have to be friendly with us either. You just strike me as the warm type, that’s all. If I’m wrong, and if you want me to keep my distance, say so. I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply, turning around to face him. He moves around the counter and comes closer, yet I cannot read his expression. He’s got one hell of a handsome poker face. “I don’t mean to be antisocial. It’s just that I’ve been keeping my head down and my thoughts to myself for three years now. I’ve apparently forgotten how to interact with people.”

“It’s alright, Melissa. You have nothing to apologize for. I get it.”

“You do?”

“We practiced something similar during our service with the Rangers,” he says. “Once we started losing some of our guys in the battlefield, Ethan, Mitch and I decided we were better off on our own, just the three of us. We wouldn’t let anybody get close to us because we didn’t want to suffer through the pain of another loss.”

He does get it, albeit from a different perspective. His fear was of losing someone, mine was of losing myself.

“But then we came back here and had to bury our parents,” he adds with a bitter smile. “And we weren’t at war anymore. The people here needed us. We needed them. It just took some time to bring our spirits over to the ranch along with our bodies, so to speak.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” I say. “May I ask what happened?”

“Car crash,” he sighs deeply. “A drunk trucker t-boned them in Long Pine.”

“Oh, God…”

He shrugs slightly. “It was over ten years ago. Time has a way of healing all wounds. It will do the same for you, Melissa. But I’ll say it again, for your peace of mind: On this ranch, we’re all equals, no matter where we come from.”

“Even if it’s Ridgeboro?” I say jokingly.

“Did you see Kyle? How skinny and fidgety he gets when he sits down at the table?”

“Yeah.”

Colton smiles. “He had a choice when the sheriff caught him abusing oxy. It would’ve been his third strike. He could either go to jail or come work here and start attending NA meetings. We supported him through every step, and now Kyle is three years sober. He’s still restless and anxious, a remnant of his uglier years, but he’s working through it. We keep him riding and we work him hard. And every night, he goes to bed a sober man. So, yeah, no matter where you’re from, once you’re on the Avery Ranch and as long as you respect and honor the place and its people, you’re one of us. Period.”

“Thank you. That means a lot,” I mumble.

“Don’t you worry. I reckon we’ll grow on you soon enough,” he says, then brings a hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch is subtle yet electrifying. My heart goes galloping again like a furious mustang. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“What do you see?” I manage.

“You crave human contact,” he replies, blinking slowly as the blue pools of his eyes darken. “It’s a good thing. It means you’re a red-blooded woman. Your heart’s not made of stone.”

That I can confirm. It’s beating a thousand miles per minute.

Colton clears his throat and takes a few steps back. “I’ll be out for a while, but I’ll see you later. Can’t wait to see what you’ve got lined up for dinner because breakfast and lunch were top-notch.”

I chuckle softly as I watch him leave, his massive frame receding into the deep shadows of the hallway. As his footsteps fade, I’m left on my own, taking copious breaths as the ghost of his touch lingers on my earlobe.

Later that afternoon I’m upstairs in my room and somewhat frustrated by the absence of hot water in my bathroom. Darla took me shopping for new clothes shortly after lunch, and I want to take a bath, but the water is ice cold.

“Dang it,” I mutter as I try to find a solution to my problem.

I go downstairs to check the kitchen faucets first. Maybe it’s an issue with the entire house, and then I can text Sammy to let him know. If the heating system is acting up, they need to deal with it before winter sets in. We’re nearing the end of November already. But there’s hot water in the kitchen.

A few moments pass, and I get a not-so-bright idea—but it’s one that makes sense. I go to Colton’s bathroom and let out a delighted squeal as I feel the hot water running down my arm. It’s risky to be in here but I do need a hot bath and they won’t be back for another hour at least. Why waste this golden opportunity?

I let the hot water run and fill the tub, then peel my clothes off and get right in. As soon as I sink into the water, I feel my muscles instantly relax. I welcome the sensation and revel in every minute, scrubbing myself squeaky clean, then washing my hair. Alas, I didn’t think to bring a towel or my toiletries downstairs in this operation, so I use a bit of Colton’s shampoo.

“Oh, it smells nice,” I whisper as I lather my hair, then sink under the water for that ultra fresh feel. The scent of cedarwood feels like a warm hug as I come out of the bath and wring the excess water from my hair before I clean the tub, my body emanating a most delicious kind of heat.

The sound of approaching footsteps startles me, and I scramble to reach for a towel, but it’s too late. I freeze as Colton comes into the bathroom with a confused look on his face.

“Shit,” I say.

Colton stands in the doorway, his jeans hugging him tightly—too tightly around the crotch area by the looks of it. My nakedness had an instant impact on him, and I press my lips into a tight line as I struggle to drag my gaze away from that ginormous bulge.

“Melissa.”

“Colton,” I manage. “I… I can explain.”

“Please, do, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

The shadow of a smile dances across his face, and my core ignites. I need to pull myself together. This is completely inappropriate, no matter what my body is shamelessly hinting. “Could I maybe get that towel first?”

Again, he smiles. “It’s a gorgeous view. Why would I want to obscure it?” Again, my body reacts in a way that is not suited for this moment. Maybe that’s his intention. Making this situation worse, just for kicks. He’s messing with me. But the hunger in his eyes is real. I recognize the desire, the crackling fire burning just beneath the surface. I recognize it because I feel it, too, with equal intensity.

This is dangerous. He’s my boss. I’m an inmate. This can’t happen. It shouldn’t.

“Please?” I try again.

“Well, since you ask so nicely,” Colton replies, then grabs the towel from the wall-mounted drying rack and brings it over. I’d hoped he’d toss it instead because the close proximity is making my blood simmer and my head dizzy. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” I mumble and quickly wrap it around myself. “I’m so sorry. There’s no hot water in my bathroom. I just came in to see if the problem was general—”

“There’s no need to apologize. I forgot to mention that the upstairs pipes are iffy sometimes. Sammy will take a look at it when he gets back.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He steps even closer. I should push back. Run away.

But I can’t. I don’t want to.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, startled by the fact that I can feel his hot breath on my face, and it’s doing one hell of a number on me.

“Testing a theory.”

“What theory?”

He cups my cheek with one hand. I don’t resist. God, it feels incredible. It’s as if my whole body is opening up to him, desperate for his undivided attention. “I told you… it’s written all over your face.”

Without hesitation, he kisses me.

My lips part eagerly, and his tongue rushes in to taste and explore me. I welcome him and taste the subtle hints of mint and coffee.

My mind goes haywire, his body so close but not close enough.

I need more. I’m blind and melting as I take the final step and let my full figure press against him. Colton reacts instantly, his arm snaking around my waist. He pulls me even closer, his breath ragged as he deepens the kiss.

“This is wrong,” I manage, but his lips conquer me again.

His hand moves from my cheek, working its way down, his fingers recording everything along the way while I let mine run through his rich, blonde hair. He tastes like a lazy morning, but the throbbing erection nestled against my belly speaks of something much more fiery and all-consuming.

Instinctively, I part my legs for his hand to freely explore.

His long, nimble fingers sneak past the towel, finding me slick and eager for more. My clit swells under his touch, every stroke bringing me dangerously close to something I’ve only managed to experience by myself in the dark solitude of my cell. He’s doing everything right, though, starting little fires everywhere as he devours my mouth and my soul at the same time.

“Shit,” Colton gasps and suddenly pulls back, his eyes wide and glassy. “I’m… I shouldn’t have. I apologize.”

There it is. The reality. It’s coming back to bite me in the ass. I already miss his touch.

My face feels hot as I try to remember where I am and what I was doing. “No, I apologize. For everything. Excuse me,” I reply and run out like my feet are on fire.

“Melissa!” he calls out, but I’m already up the stairs, my eyes blistering with tears of shame.

“Sorry!” I shout and lock myself in my room.

Panting, I need a moment to pull my thoughts together. They all unraveled somewhere along the way, and I no longer know what to do with myself. My core feels tight. My pussy aches, clenching in a slow and steady rhythm. I look at the bed and realize I need a release so I can think clearly again.

I remove the towel and lay on the bed, letting my fingers do the rest of the work.

With fresh memories of Colton’s sizzling touch forever embedded in my very soul, I use one hand to squeeze my breast and pinch the nipple until it stings, while I let the other work my clit closer to that much needed edge. Closing my eyes, I can almost feel Colton on top of me, the weight of his hard body pinning me against the mattress.

I slide two fingers inside my pussy, tasting him on my lips.

My release comes hard, and I shudder as I explode, rippling like a newborn sun as I imagine him pumping me full of him, fucking me until I’m breathless and senseless.

I ride that wave for as long as I can.

Then reality comes crashing back down around me.