Driven Collection

by K. Bromberg

  We exit the car and are whisked via a side door through the hotel and into a back entrance to the nightclub, Rain. The energetic beat of the song Animal fills the club and reverberates through my body. An employee leads us up a stairway and moves a velvet rope with a sign that notes reserved so we can pass into the VIP area.

  Such an odd feeling to be treated as the only patrons in a club filled with hundreds of other people just feet away.

  We’re led onto the mezzanine level, and when we enter, a roar of cheers startles me. Colton doesn’t seem surprised, and I realize that the thirty plus people in front of me are who Colton’s been coordinating all night long. He is suddenly pulled into the crowd of people, collecting pats on the back from the guys and overly long hugs from the women.

  I step back, allowing him to have the attention of his friends and look at our surroundings. I count six rooms on this level that overlook the dance floor and it seems as if Colton has rented them all out for the night. I step toward the railing and watch the mass of people below gyrate and move with the pulse of the music.

  “You doing okay?”

  I look over at Haddie, relieved to have her here, and smile. “Yes. It’s just all a bit more than I’m used to.”

  “I guess he’s a little over the top, huh?”

  “Just a tad.” I laugh. “So, Beckett?” I ask, arching my eyebrows.

  “He is hella cute...” she shrugs “...but you know how that goes.” She laughs in her typical carefree Haddie way. If she wants, she’ll have him eating out of her hand by the night’s end. That’s just Haddie. “You wanna dance?”

  I look for Colton to tell him that we’re going down to the floor, but he’s in the middle of a wildly animated conversation. He’ll figure it out. Within moments we’ve made our way downstairs, and have worked ourselves into the crowd moving on the floor. It feels so good to let go and move with the beat, to get lost for a moment and forget the anniversary that started the minute the clock passed midnight.

  After a couple of songs, I look up toward the balcony above us to see Colton standing at the railing. He searches the crowd and it takes a few moments before he finds me. I have a déjà vu moment when our eyes lock—a different club this time but the same intense heat between us. His face falls into shadow momentarily, and I can’t help but remember wondering on our first date if he was an angel fighting through the darkness or a devil breaking into the light. Right now, looking up and completely consumed by him, he is most definitely my struggling angel. And yet I know the devil in him is always just beneath the surface.

  I continue moving despite our irrefutable connection—the one that stops my breath and kick starts my heart every time he looks at me. I smile and motion for him to come down. He just shakes his head in a measured acceptance of whatever it is that he’s thinking and smiles before disappearing from sight.

  The song changes and I hear the opening notes to Usher’s Scream. I throw my arms up and swivel my hips to the beat, letting the music wash over me. I sing my favorite line. “Got no drink in my hand but I’m wasted, getting drunk on the thought of you naked.” I snap my eyes open on the last word when I feel hands slide around my waist from behind and pull me backwards. Haddie’s smile tells me that it’s Colton, and I relax against him as I see Beckett and a few more of his friends from upstairs join us.

  The soft curves of my body fit against the hard edges of his, and I close my eyes as we start to move together. Every movement against each other has my skin prickling and my insides igniting. Each nerve in my body is attuned to the feel of him against me. His strong hands map the lines of my torso: urging, grabbing, enticing. His hips move with mine, the ridge of his erection tempting me with each movement. We mimic each other in unfulfilled need, in mounting desire.

  He turns me around to face him, the demand of his hands forcing me to do what he wants arouses me further. It evokes images of his skillful fingers running the length of my sex before parting me and slipping into me. I groan at the thought and somehow he hears me despite the music because the sexy smirk on his face and darkening eyes tell me he feels the same. I know he wants more than just this frustrating but sensual as hell petting with our clothes on.

  WE DANCE A FEW MORE songs. Each brush against him adds to the mounting need within me. A seductive game, that’s tantalizing, sensuous, and felt by both of us despite the lack of words. The opening notes of Ginuine’s Pony filters through the speakers, and the suggestive tone of the song is too much for Colton to handle. He grabs my hand and pulls me with obvious purpose through the crowd on the dance floor. Impatience, need, and determination radiates off of him and vibrates into me as he stops at the foot of the stairs. Every part of my body is on high alert when he puts his hand on my back to urge me up the steps. I’m on the first riser when he spins me around and captures my mouth in a blistering kiss filled with urgency.

  He attacks my mouth with a definite purpose, thoroughly obliterating all hopes of self-discipline when it comes to him. But before I can give in to the temptation at my fingertips and react wholeheartedly, he ends the kiss just as abruptly as he began it, leaving me wanting for more and on the cusp of begging.

  Colton starts up the stairs, my hand in his as I follow. When we reach the top where Sammy stands, Colton leans over and says something in his ear that the music drowns out. Sammy nods his head and turns on his heel, Colton and I right behind him.

  We reach the sixth and last VIP room on the balcony, and I follow Colton’s lead, stopping and looking out over the club below. I glance over my shoulder to see Sammy ushering his friends out of the last room before I look back to Colton. His eyes are focused on the crowd below, his jaw clenched, and I wonder if I’ve done something wrong to piss him off.

  I’m a little taken aback. What in the hell did I do? He’s going to choose right now to be pissed? I guess I should be used to his confusing, back and forth moods, but I’m not. We remain silent waiting for whatever Sammy is doing, and I resign myself that there is most likely a fight on the horizon for us. Can’t we just have one night without it?

  Sammy leans into Colton’s ear and tells him something, and then we are on the move again. Colton leads me by my hand into the sixth and now vacant VIP area. The minute we clear the wall and are away from anyone’s view, Colton’s body crashes into mine instantaneously, forcibly pinning me against the wall.

  I only have time for one coherent thought before the taste of Colton pulls me under. He’s not pissed at me. Not hardly. He’s consumed with desire.

  All of the heat and urgency in the kiss on the stairs is intensified and then some. Our teeth clash and bodies mesh as his tongue pushes through my lips and licks into my mouth. His hands are everywhere on my body at once, each touch flaring my need and shooting desire like a mainline to my core.

  I need him in me, filling me, moving inside of me, right now like I need my next breath.

  His tongue continues its tormenting assault on my mouth, his hands seeking my bare flesh as the words of the song fuel the desire raging between us. He reaches down and pulls my leg up to his hip, his hands sliding up and under my hem. Desperate fingers dig into my willing flesh. His hand is so close yet so far away from where I need it to be that all I can do is groan out in a mixture of frustration and need. He nips my bottom lip, followed by the soothing lick of his tongue, prompting me to tighten my grip on his hair. I tug on it, my silent way of saying I need him too. Want him just as desperately.

  Right here. Right now.

  He drags himself away from me, his chest rising and falling with his labored breaths and his eyes bore into mine despite the fog of lust in them. “I don’t like all of those guys dancing around you,” he says, his strained voice is playful despite the violent desire I see raging in his eyes.

  “It got your attention, didn’t it?” I tease in a pant of breath, surprised by his jealousy.

  “Sweetheart, if you want my attention...” he smirks, his hands cupping my ass and yanking me into him, the ri
dge of his erection pressing deliciously into my softness “…all you have to do is ask.”

  “And pull you away from your adulating throng of friends?” I tease, arching my eyebrows at him, my sarcasm apparent.

  “So you’d rather go dance amidst a throng of random men?”

  I suck in my breath as he moves his hands up the sides of my torso and stops beside my breasts. My body is so pent up, so on the edge of need that it responds instantly when it gets the touch it craves. His thumbs connect with my nipples and they pebble instantly as he rubs up and down. I lean my head back, closing my eyes, and allow myself to be swallowed in the sensation the stroke of his thumbs create. My head clouds, trying to think of a witty comeback to this bantering foreplay between us. “It got you out there, didn’t it?” I bait, running my tongue over my bottom lip. “Just think of it as a means to an end, Ace.”

  Colton brushes his thumbs up and down once more, making sure he has my attention. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, “the only end that’s going to be sticking into your means, is mine.” He leans in to nip at my bottom lip before pulling back to meet my gaze, one hand squeezing over my breast possessively. “Mine.”

  The intensity in his eyes prevents me from laughing. I lean into him, my hand reaching out to run over the ridge of his arousal and cup him through his pants. And I’m not sure where my brazen confidence comes from, but I bring my mouth up to his ear and whisper just above the noise. “Prove it.”

  Colton emits a strangled groan, and in a flash he grips my head and holds me still while his mouth crashes against mine before breaking apart way too soon.

  “Come,” he says, pulling me with him as he walks backwards to one of the chairs toward the back of the room. He sits down and pulls me onto him. “Straddle me,” he commands, and the need in me is so overwhelming I obey without a second thought. I hike my dress up my thighs and place my knees on either side of him, lowering my center over his lap.

  He looks at me, a wicked grin on his face that makes me want to earn the look he’s giving me. Eyes locked on mine, he places his hands on my bare knees and runs his hands up my thighs. When he reaches my hem, he just keeps pushing my dress up. My lips part at their wanton progression, and in a quick moment of modesty, I twist my head over my shoulder to look at the doorway to make sure no one is watching.

  “Don’t worry,” Colton whispers, unfettered need straining his voice, “Sammy’s guarding the door. He’s not letting anyone back here.”

  I’m relieved and yet uncomfortable with the thought that Sammy knows or can assume what we’re doing in here. My worry falls to the wayside because Colton’s hands squeeze my thighs, and I instinctively spread them wider as need thunders through my body.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck this sweet pussy of yours all night,” his voice growls in my ear. “Ever since I saw your nipples tight and pressed against your tank top. Since I watched you dancing, teasing me with this sexy body of yours.” His thumbs brush over my dampened panties and I shiver, his touch like a lightning strike to my sex. “I want to feel you on the inside. I want to feel your cum coat me when I fuck you. Want to hear that sound you make when you lose it. And. I. Just. Can’t. Wait. Any. Longer,” he grits out between taunting kisses.

  And then he finally gives me what I crave. His mouth captures mine, parting my lips and claiming my every reaction. At the same time one thumb pulls my panties to the side and the other connects with my clit. A blast of indescribable pleasure jolts through me with his touch, his lips smothering the moan he coaxes from me.

  I dig my fingers into the muscled flesh of his shoulders, not caring if my nails mark him. His tongue delves into my mouth, a languorous exploration that is thorough and seductive while his fingers part my cleft and tease skillfully so that every part of me tightens in a frenzy of need. His hand slips down to where my legs are spread, and he wets his fingers with my obvious arousal before sliding them back up to coat me. On his caress back down, he doesn’t stop but rather tucks two fingers into me.

  I gasp out a broken breath at the sublime sensation, desperate for this and the anticipation of what is to come. His fingers start to move inside me and I flex my hips as best as I can, opening myself up to him so he can have complete access. I close my eyes, my head falling back as the ecstasy of his touch threatens to overwhelm me.

  “Fucking Christ,” he groans against the soft skin of my throat. “Baby, you are so fucking wet for me. So ready. Makes me so fucking hard for you. Come for me. Come so I can sink myself into you when you’re still riding your orgasm.”

  His blatant words seduce me, pushing me higher toward the edge. The sensations his fingers incite make me forget we’re in a public nightclub, but at the same time, I know. I know because the exhilaration of being where we can be caught so easily, heightens my arousal, makes me notice every brush and sweep of his body against mine. Every graze of flesh against flesh.

  His lips tease the curve of my neck as his other hand gives me the friction I need on my clit to push me over the razor thin edge of sanity. The intense rush of heat hits me, pulling me under its rolling waves as I splinter into what feels like a million pieces. I drop my head on Colton’s shoulder, my heartbeat racing and body pulsing with the orgasmic pleasure that washes through me. I suck in short, sharp breaths as he withdraws his fingers and fumbles with his zipper between my legs.

  Before I have time to recover, Colton is guiding my hips up and positioning himself at my entrance. I’m so lost in the moment, in the pleasure, in Colton, that the outside world ceases to exist.

  Right now it’s me and Colton and the carnal need igniting an inferno between us. When we’re like this—connected as one and absorbed in each other—I forget everything else. His taste, his scent, his domination of my senses, are my only focus.

  I sink slowly onto him, feeling every thick inch of him as I lower my hips until fully seated. Colton’s rough growl of a response and his fingers digging into my hips are the only reaction I need. I lean forward and cover his mouth with mine as I rock slowly onto him, his body tensing as mine tightens around him in acceptance. I continue my movement, sliding up and down his tortured length. My hands fan over the taut muscles of his back, and my tongue coaxes and demands for him to take everything from me because I want nothing less than all of him.

  His hands push and pull me on each of his thrusts. I am so focused on giving him everything that he needs, everything that he wants, I don’t even realize my body drowning in the liquid heat that fills me. Colton’s face tightens and nostrils flare, a sure sign of his ratcheting pleasure and impending climax. His length thickens inside of me, expanding me so when he pushes into me the next time, I detonate in an explosion of sensation. He surges inside of me a couple more times and then his hands grip my hips forcibly, holding me still as his orgasm rushes through him. He throws his head back, his mouth falling open as his shattered moan fills our immediate space before being drowned out by the cacophony of noise in the club.

  I watch his face, the reactions to his release flickering across his features when it hits me what I’ve just done. Holy shit! What in the hell am I thinking, and who took the real me and transplanted this wanton woman in my place? I start to shift off of Colton when he stops me from breaking our connection. Instead, he reaches up and gathers me against him, holding me for a sweet, unexpected moment before kissing the top of my head and then the tip of my nose.

  We clean up and fix our disheveled appearances without speaking. I start fidgeting and fussing when Colton grabs my hand and squeezes it until I look up at him. A slow grin curls the corners of his mouth as he pulls me into him before pressing a chaste kiss on my mouth. He shakes his head at me. “You’re constantly full of surprises, Ryles.”

  And you’re the biggest surprise of them all.

  I sip my drink as I sit back with Haddie in the VIP lounge, my body swaying subtly to the beat of the music below. I need a quick break from being on my feet, my shoes starting to take their toll. I see Sammy guarding th
e stairs and avert my eyes immediately, embarrassed about any conclusions he’s drawn as to the less than innocent nature of Colton and my time alone.

  I hear a high-pitched shriek as Sammy tries to avert someone from coming up the stairs. Colton, who’s immersed in a conversation, turns his head toward the commotion. He steps back to see who it is and a wide grin spreads across his face before he motions for Sammy to let whomever it is up. My curiosity is definitely piqued when I see one of the guys he’s talking to nudge him in an atta-boy manner.

  Both Haddie and I turn our heads just in time to take in the longest pair of legs I’ve ever seen in what I think is the shortest skirt ever made strut toward Colton. The rest of the woman is just as spectacular as she tosses her head, throwing her long mane of blonde hair over her shoulder so that it falls just above her perfectly showcased backside.

  She grabs Colton in a longer than necessary hug, her lips kissing the corner of his mouth as she leans back, a huge smile on her perfect face. It’s when I see her that I suck in a breath, realizing who she is. Recognition dawns on Haddie at the same time, and we both look at each other in surprise. She is Cassandra Miller, the current darling of Hollywood as well as Playboy’s latest celebrity centerfold. And despite completing their greeting, her hands are still resting on Colton’s bicep, and her perfectly enhanced body is rubbing up against his with his hand resting politely on the small of her back.

  I’m surprised by the twinge in my gut at the sight of them together. I’ve never been a jealous person, but then again, I’ve never been with someone as all-consuming as Colton Donavan.

  I don’t like her hands on him. At all.

  Mine. He tells me that all the time. It’s one of those possessive statements that I oddly find to be so damn arousing. And right now, I’d like to do nothing more than waltz up between the two of them and stake my claim on Colton as he did earlier to me in TAO.