Fueled

by K. Bromberg

  “Anticipation can enhance,” he whispers, and right now, it is most definitely the definition of Ace. No doubt. But I don’t have any time to comprehend let alone respond because his lips finally meet mine. And this time, they do more than just taste. They devour. Take without asking. Brand the claim being staked.

  The world on the other side of the door ceases to exist. The doubts rioting in my head fall silent. Everything is lost to the sensation of his mouth worshiping mine.

  Our tongues dance. Our reverent sighs meld. Our bodies succumb, but never touch. Besides Colton’s hands on my wrist and lips on my mouth, he doesn’t allow any other part of our bodies to connect.

  And I so desperately need to touch him, feel the tightened buds of my nipples rubbing against his chest, feel his fingers trailing up my thighs and touching my most intimate of places.

  But he refuses me that silent request, completely in control of the satiation of my detonating desire.

  He pulls back on a groan from both of us. “Christ woman,” he swears. “You’re making it incredibly difficult to pull away from you.”

  “Then don’t.” I pant as lust coils so intensely, having him so close yet so far from me in more ways than one.

  He growls in a frustrated response and just as quick as we entered the ironic storage closet, we are out of it. I momentarily close my eyes at the sudden wash of light. When I open my eyes again, Colton stands a few feet in front of me, the tension set in his shoulders a result of what I assume is the slippery hold he has on his restraint.

  He looks back over his shoulder at me, his jaw set and his eyes warring with something within. “Colton?” I ask, trying to figure out his state of mind.

  He just shakes his head at me. “I’m gonna hit the head. Meet you out there?”

  I just look at him, a stuttered, “Okay,” falling from my lips.

  He starts to walk away but stops and turns back and steps toward me. Without preamble, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into him for a chaste kiss on the lips before walking away. I hear him call over his shoulder. “I need a minute.”

  And I need a lifetime.

  I’m immersed in a conversation about the merits of my organization and what the new facilities will have to offer when I’m interrupted.

  “Rylee!” a voice booms behind me, and when I turn around, I find myself swallowed up in a big bear hug by the arms of Andy Westin. I return the hug, his affection contagious, and then he leans back and holds my arms out to take me in. He whistles. “Wow! You’re looking absolutely stunning this evening,” he compliments, and I can see exactly who Colton learned how to charm from.

  “Mr. Westin, so glad to see you again,” I tell him, and I am surprised that I really am. In a room full of pretension, he brings vibrancy and sincerity.

  He waves a hand in the air. “I told you, please call me Andy.”

  “Alright, Andy then. Does Colton know you’re here? Can I get you a drink?”

  “Nonsense. I’ll get myself a drink in a moment,” he says, patting my arm while searching the crowd. “We haven’t seen him yet. We’ve been busy seeing old friends and hearing about this great cause.”

  “Kids Now definitely is,” I muse.

  He grins widely. “Speaking of good causes, I hear you and my boy are working on a little something together for your own organization.”

  “Yes we are!” I exclaim, a thrill shooting through me at the sudden realization that this is really happening. I am actually here promoting the new facility and its culmination. “With Colton’s help—”

  “There you are,” a sultry voice interrupts me. I turn to see its owner and find that I am face to face with Dorothea Donavan-Westin. She is absolutely stunning, and there is a gracefulness about her—in her movement, in her smile, in how she holds herself—that makes you want to just watch and admire.

  “Dottie, sweetheart! I didn’t know where you went off to,” Andy says as he kisses her cheek.

  Dorothea looks over to me, her sapphire blue eyes alight with humor. “He’s always losing me.” She laughs.

  “Dottie dear, this is Rylee…”

  “Thomas,” I finish for Andy.

  “Thomas. Yes,” he says, winking at me, thankful for my assistance. “Please meet my wife, Dorothea...” he turns to her “...she’s the one that Colton is working with on—”

  “Yes I know, dear...” she pats his arm affectionately “...I am on the board after all.” She turns to face me and extends a perfectly manicured hand. “So glad to finally meet you in person, Rylee. I’ve heard such great things about your work through the committee.”

  I reach out to shake her hand, surprised by my nerves. Where Andy is warm and inviting, Dorothea is reserved and regal. A person who makes you want to have their approval without so much as saying a word. Commanding. “Thank you. So lovely to meet you as well,” I smile warmly at her. “Your husband and I were just talking about that. Your son’s generous donation has made the facility become a tangible reality for us. Once his team figures the total lap match sponsorship, we just might be able to start pulling permits.”

  Pride fills Dorothea’s face at the mention of her son, and I can see the unconditional love in her eyes. “Well I guess it was a good thing I fell ill and forced him to attend in my place then.” She laughs. “Despite the incessant grumbling I had to listen to about being forced to wear a tux.”

  I can’t help but smile at her words; I heard the same grumbling earlier. “We are overwhelmed by his generosity. Words cannot express how much it is appreciated. And then to go above and beyond and try to get sponsorships to complete the funding…” I place my hand over my heart. “It just leaves us—me—speechless. Overwhelmed, really.”

  “That’s our boy!” Andy exclaims, reaching for a flute of champagne from a passing waitress and handing it to Dorothea.

  “You should be so proud of him. He’s a good man.” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize it, and I find myself slightly embarrassed. My unexpected admission to his parents is insight into my feelings for their beloved son.

  Dorothea angles her head to the side and regards me over her champagne flute as she takes a sip. “So tell me, Rylee, are you here with Colton tonight on a professional or a personal level?”

  I must look like a deer in the headlights at her words and I look from Dorothea to Andy and back again. What am I supposed to say? That I’m in love with your son, but he still thinks of me as a woman he fucks because he refuses to accept that he might have feelings for me? I hardly think that’s an appropriate thing to say to one’s parents regardless of its truth or not. My mouth opens to say something when Andy intervenes.

  “Don’t badger the girl, Dottie!” he says playfully, winking at me as I silently thank him.

  “Well...” she shrugs in apology, although I doubt she’s remorseful “...a mother likes to know these things. In fact, I think—”

  “What a pleasant surprise!” I hear the smooth rasp of Colton’s voice, and relief floods me that I won’t have to answer her question.

  “Colton!” Dorothea exclaims as she turns to face her son. I’m surprised when he grabs his mom in a huge bear hug, rocking her back and forth before kissing her on the cheek, his face lighting up with love for her. She accepts his affection openly and places both hands on his cheeks and looks into his eyes. “Let me look at you! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you!”

  He smiles at her, his adoration apparent. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.” He smirks at her as he pats his dad on the back in greeting. “Hey, Dad!”

  “Hey, bud,” Andy says, putting an arm around Colton’s shoulders and squeezing momentarily. “What’s this?” he asks, bringing a hand up to playfully rub Colton’s cheek. “You actually shaved for tonight? Your mother was surprised when she saw the picture from the event the other night of you and—”

  “You looked so handsome, Colton. All clean-shaven...” She cuts her husband off with a warning glance before smiling ad
oringly at her son. “You know how much I like when you shave that scruff off of your face. You look much better without it!”

  Colton looks over at me, a crooked smirk on his face, his eyes telling me that he remembers my comment about just how much I enjoy the scruff against my inner thighs. “I see you’ve met Rylee?” he says as he slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against him, leaning over to brush his lips to my temple. I instinctively lean into him, not missing the look of surprise that’s exchanged between his parents. Over what I’m unsure, but Andy’s look to Dorothea appears to say see what I mean.

  “Yes, we were just speaking about her company’s new project,” his mother replies, studying him closely, a bemused look on her face.

  “Rylee’s done a great job,” he says, the pride brimming in his eyes surprises me. “If you saw the boys—the ones that are currently under her charge—what great kids they are, you’d understand why becoming involved was a no-brainer. Why this project needs to be completed.” His enthusiasm is heartfelt and that is endearing to me. “But you already know that, don’t you, Mom?”

  We speak for a few moments before Andy excuses himself to go get a drink, and I do the same heading for the restroom. I take a few steps away when Colton places his hand on my lower back and stops me with the murmur of my name. His body presses up behind me, connecting us together like puzzle pieces.

  “Don’t even think about getting yourself off in that bathroom.” He growls quietly into my ear causing spirals of need to electrify my every nerve. “I know you’re desperate to feel me buried inside you as much as I am. I know the ache is so intense it burns. But, baby, I’m the only one allowed to take you there.” He runs his hand up the side of my ribcage. “Not your fingers. Not a toy. Not any other fucker in this room.” He exhales and I’m envious of his ability to breathe at this moment. “Just me. And I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” He presses a kiss to the back of my head. “Mine. Understood?”

  I swallow, trying to find my voice. His words were just so seriously hot that I swear I can feel the moisture pooling between my thighs. I nod my head and only when I am several feet away from him—when I can actually think without him clouding my coherency—am I able to draw a breath.

  The bathroom is empty when I enter, and I head to the furthest stall against the wall. I just need a moment to myself. I’m finishing my business when I hear the door creak open and two pairs of heels clicking on the concrete floor, and their laughter echoing off of the tiled walls.

  “So who’s he here with tonight? He seems pretty serious about her seeing as his eyes aren’t wandering astray as usual.”

  The other woman laughs a throaty reply and something about the familiarity of it causes me to pause with my hand on the door to the stall. “Oh her? She’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  I hear the smack of lips as if someone is blotting their freshly applied lipstick. “Well by the looks of Page 6, you seem to be right.”

  “You saw that?” throaty-voiced girl says.

  “Yes! You and Colton looked so great together. Like the perfect fucking couple.” I bristle at the words when I recognize that throaty-voiced girl, the one saying that I am nothing to worry about, is Tawny.

  “Thanks, doll! I think so too. It was such a great evening, and as usual Colton was his ever-attentive self.”

  Whoa! What in the hell is she talking about? Evening? As usual? My conversation with Colton’s parents comes back to my mind. Andy telling Colton that his mother saw a picture of him and someone else before Dorothea cut him off. The picture was with Tawny? I swallow the bile that rises in my throat, trying to calm my thoughts from getting too far out of whack and reading into the comments. I try to push away the pounding rush of my pulse filling my ears, desperate to eavesdrop some more. I feel nauseous, so I back up and sit back down, fully clothed, on the toilet seat.

  “I can’t believe you ever let him get away in the first place!”

  “I know.” She sighs. “But he’s a man that’s definitely hard to sway once he makes his mind up. I’ve made sure that he knows without question that he can no longer use the excuse that I’m like a sibling to him though.” She giggles suggestively. “And I’ve made sure to be there every step of the way so that in the end he’ll turn to me.”

  “Shut-up! No you didn’t…”

  “Someone’s gotta whip that boy into shape.” My stomach revolts at her words.

  “Well, I don’t think it’ll take him much longer now by the looks of that picture,” her friend says, and I can mentally see the smirk she has spreading across her lips.

  “Yeah, I know.” Tawny replies. “She can’t give him what he needs. She’s so damn naïve. The two of them are like Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. He’s going to eat her alive, spit her out, and then move on to the next.”

  “He does have quite the sexual appetite. Big Bad Wolf…hmm, that fits. Definitely some of the best sex I’ve ever had.” Wait a minute! Colton’s been with the friend too? Deep breath, Rylee. How fucking many of his exes are there here tonight? Deep breath.

  I hear the zipper of a purse close. “He’ll tire of her soon enough when she can’t fulfill him. I mean look at her…she doesn’t have a seductive bone in that body. She’s too boring…too plain…too blah to keep his rapt attention. And if she’s like that on the outside, I can’t imagine how utterly lackluster she is between the sheets. You know how he is, predictability is one thing he doesn’t tolerate.” She laughs. “Besides, I dropped a few hints to him the other night to let him know I was still game. And more than willing to be anyone or do anything he wanted.”

  Her friend hums in agreement. “Who wouldn’t be when it comes to him? The man’s a tireless fucking God in the sack.”

  “I know that better than anyone.” Tawny chuckles, the sound crawling up my spine. “Besides, I can be patient. Time is most definitely on my side.”

  “You ready?” I hear a second purse zip and the clicking of heels again until the door closes shut, bathing me in silence.

  What the hell? I fumble in my purse for my phone. I click on Google and type in “Page 6, Colton Donavan.” I click on the first link that pops up and brace myself when the image fills the screen. It is a picture of Colton walking out of the Chateau Marmont. His hand is placed on Tawny’s lower back, who is decked out in a stunningly sexy, red dress. She is turned, looking up at him, her hand on his lapel, adoration filling her eyes, and a suggestive smile on her face. Colton is looking down at her, his face crinkled in laughter as if they’ve just shared a private joke. When I can finally tear my eyes away from the obvious chemistry between them, I glance at the date of the photo.

  The date is this past Wednesday. The same day that Colton took the kids and me to the go-kart track. I groan out loud in the empty restroom at the realization that I got him all riled up in sexual frustration, and then I sent him off to a function with Tawny. Fucking great! I glance at the photo again, hoping maybe it is a stock photo the paper used to fill space, but then I take a closer look and notice that Colton is clean-shaven. He’s never clean-shaven. Wednesday was the first time since I’ve known him that he’s been like that. I feel a sharp pain in my gut as I stare at the picture again. Colton had told me that he had a work function to go to. At the Chateau Marmont with Tawny? What the hell type of function were they at, and why were they leaving together looking so damn cozy?

  I take a deep breath, my thoughts rioting violently around in my head as Tawny’s verbal digs enter my conscience again and take hold.

  I start to feel suffocated in the confines of the bathroom stall. I fumble with the lock on the stall and hurry past the vanities. I glance at myself in the mirror quickly and am shocked that my appearance is so calm and collected when my insides twist over this newfound information.

  I force myself to calm down and not jump to conclusions. Tawny is a family friend and a business associate. Of course they have to go to functions together. The picture was probably snapped at
just the right moment to capture a scene people could talk about. One they could make assumptions about. There are probably twenty other pictures in that scene that are boring and non-gossip worthy. Besides, the fact that Tawny still has a thing for Colton shouldn’t surprise me; she let me know as much at the track.

  When I exit the bathroom, I’m still trying to talk myself down from the ledge of insecurity. I can’t find Colton, so I head toward the bar, needing another drink to soothe my frayed nerves. I tell myself that I know Colton’s had his share of women, but he told me in Vegas that I’m who he wants. It’d be so much easier to accept if he’d just admit to me that we were something more—that we were exclusive—anything to tell me verbally that emotions are a part of the picture. That I’m not just his physical plaything.

  Get that out of your head, Rylee! I have to accept that he shows me with actions, not words. That’s all he’s willing to give me, and I have to accept this or walk away. I sigh in frustration. I thought I was mentally okay with this. Really I did, but then you add the mix of bimbos tonight and my insecurities have resurfaced. And having them thrown in my face repeatedly by Tawny and then tonight by Teagan—as well as bimbos three through five—makes it that much more difficult. Colton’s the total package. I should be flattered that other women want to be with him.

  Keep telling yourself that, Ry, and maybe someday you’ll believe it.

  I order a drink from the bar and when I turn to walk away, I spot Colton talking to some gentlemen across the room. I smile, the sight of him dissipating all of my doubts. As I start to walk toward him, his conversation ends and before he turns to walk away, a woman walks up to him and embraces him in a hug that lasts a little too long for my liking. And of course she is a blonde, breathtaking beauty that rivals him in the stunning looks department. When she turns so I can see her, it’s none other than bimbo number five from the bar line earlier.