No Going Back (Revolving Door Book 3)

by Dani Matthews

  “What if he progresses with the next woman and actually hurts her?” he asks gently.

  Shit. The guilt would follow me the rest of my life. “What will reporting the vandalism accomplish?”

  “To be honest, not much. It just goes on record at this point. What it does do is help build your case against him if he should take things further.”

  I’m quiet as I think over what he’s shared with me. Sure, reporting the vandalism isn’t that big of a deal, but it’s the fact that I’m allowing Slade to get to me that’s the issue.

  “I don’t see it as giving him what he wants. I see it more as actively taking precautions to keep yourself safe, Quinn,” Bryce says, accurately guessing where my mind is at.

  I nod.

  “I have one more question for you, and then you can tell me your decision.”

  I look at him expectantly.

  “If it were Ashton or Harper dealing with this, would you want them to report it?”

  His question has me sighing. “Absolutely. Okay, fine. I’ll report the vandalism.”

  Bryce nods, not looking surprised. “I read the complaint you filed the other day. Has he contacted you since then? Besides the vandalism overnight?”

  I shake my head and grimace. “I kind of baited him last night,” I mutter.

  Now it’s Bryce’s turn to sigh. “What’d you do?” He listens intently as I explain about going to the bar and Colt tracking me down. He frowns. “He was watching and didn’t like Colt being near you.”

  “Colt’s always near me,” I say with a shrug.

  “Which might be why he’s stalking you. He sees you as his and no one else’s.”

  “I’m not anyone’s,” I say sourly. Though I wish I were Colt’s, and it sucks that I’m not.

  “Men like Slade don’t see it that way,” Bryce says.

  “Do you think there’s a chance that he might become bored?”

  “He could, but in my opinion, I don’t think it’s likely.”

  I draw my legs up, feeling resigned as I loop my arms around my knees. “What should I do?”

  “Stop baiting him for one,” he says dryly.

  “Noted,” I grumble.

  He pulls out a small notepad from his pocket. “You gave a vague description at the department. Can you give me more details that might help single him out?”

  I think about his question for a moment. “He has skulls on his left arm and…some kind of monster-like character with horns. His right arm has a reaper and thorns.” I shake my head. “I didn’t look all that closely. There might be a spider, maybe a snake, too.”

  Bryce writes in his notebook and then looks up at me. “Any kind of detailing helps, Quinn.”

  “He prefers loud music. He’ll gravitate towards the biker bars and the darker parts of town.”

  Bryce nods. “That’s good. Is he a drinker?”

  “Surprisingly, no,” I say as my brows draw together. “He’s always been stone-cold sober.”

  “You met at a bar, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he approach you or vice versa?”

  “I think it was a little of both. He was the bartender at the time.”

  “Did he ever pressure you into drinking?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything else that you think I should know?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t really think of anything else. Should I change my number?”

  “No,” Bryce says firmly. “He wants to stay in contact with you, and a phone call is much safer than a one on one. I know you don’t want to change your daily habits and your socialization, but I would suggest toning it down,” he advises.

  I grimace. “Okay.”

  After Bryce leaves, I make my way to the kitchen, aggravated that this is how the day is beginning. I’d thought the worst I’d have to deal with today would be Colt’s anger.

  Harper happens to be the only one in the kitchen, and she looks at me with concern. “It’s happening again.”

  Damn it. I don’t want my problems affecting her recovery process. “It’s not,” I promise. “This is a completely different situation.”

  She remains silent, her eyes doubtful.

  “Harper, I know you’re still getting over what happened, and I know this is dredging things up for you. Maybe you and Gabe should move out now, maybe get an apartment until you find the house of your dreams.”

  She looks offended by my suggestion. “I’m not leaving you, Quinn.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” I promise her. “Slade’s just being an asshole right now.”

  “It could escalate,” she says seriously.

  “It’s going to take more than some pictures and slashed tires to scare me,” I say confidently.

  “That’s the problem. You’re determined to believe that your life isn’t in danger.”

  That’s because I don’t want it to be true—because I brought this all on myself, and it’s no longer just affecting me. It’s affecting everyone around me.

  ***

  I know I should give Colt space, especially after our one-sided conversation in the driveway earlier, but my gut is telling me that we need to talk about last night.

  When he’d arrived home about an hour after Bryce had left, I’d found him in the driveway, replacing the tires on my car with new ones. I’d offered to reimburse him, but he’d shot me a look and had gone back to working on the tires. When I’d realized he was going to continue ignoring me, I’d known to back off and give him the space he clearly wanted.

  I’m trying not to take it personally. It’s just the way he functions. He doesn’t do useless conversations, and until he’s ready to talk, it’s pointless getting anything out of him. He’s so hot and cold sometimes, it would probably drive anyone nuts—especially a woman. But I get it. I understand him. But I also know that if I give him too much space, he’ll take advantage of it, and it’ll be harder to talk to him about it as time wears on.

  It’s mid-evening, and I’m careful to make my way down to the basement without anyone noticing. I don’t want to give anyone a reason to begin wondering what’s up between Colt and me. That’s the last thing we need.

  The entertainment room’s light is on, and I walk down the hall, spying the bathroom door wide open. I know it’s Colt, because Sebastian had gone out earlier and hasn’t shown his face since.

  My heart stutters when I see Colt. He’s standing in front of the sink, peering into the mirror as he trims the whiskers on his jaw. He’s wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, showing off the cut ‘V’ of his hips. Either I have the world’s worst timing, or perhaps the best. I guess it depends on how the upcoming conversation unfolds.

  Colt glances at me briefly before turning back to the mirror and running the trimmers over his jaw. He’s still angry.

  Fortunately, his unwelcoming disposition doesn’t deter me. There is however one gigantic problem. Colt’s not trimming his whiskers for nothing. He’s freshly showered and undoubtedly has plans to go out. He’s going to screw someone tonight. A dull ache forms deep within my chest. I am so in over my head, but I need to keep trying.

  “Thank you for the new tires,” I say, trying to begin a conversation with him.

  He sets the trimmers down on the counter, his eyes sliding to me once more. “You need to leave,” he says simply.

  His words are like a punch to the gut, but I determinedly straighten my spine and look him dead in the eye. “Why?” I challenge.

  I can see him beginning to grind his teeth. “You know why.”

  “You’re right, I do. You don’t want me to know just how badly you want to feel my mouth on you again,” I say boldly.

  His fists clench, and without a word, he walks towards me. For a second, I think I might’ve gotten through to him, but then he simply moves around me and heads for his room.

  Without hesitation, I follow on his heels. When he turns to close the door in my face, I dart around him so
that I’m now inside his room.

  He looks at me with exasperation. “Quinn.”

  “Did you think I’d make it easy for you to avoid me?” No more space. We’re going to have this out here and now.

  He scrubs his hands over his face. “You’ve got to stop, or this shit is going to fuck with our relationship, and not in a good way,” he says, dropping his hands.

  I look at him earnestly. “We would never let that happen. You need me in your life, just as I need you. No matter how mad one of us gets at the other, we’ll always work it out.”

  “Some things can’t be fixed,” he says moodily, and I know he’s referring to himself and his past.

  “Sometimes, wounds need a little more time than others to heal, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t. Those are the ones that are worth the wait,” I tell him.

  He says nothing, just regards me with a dark, brooding gaze.

  Here goes nothing. “If you need someone to screw, screw me. I’m not asking for anything more—just sex. No commitment. Just you and me, and the desire we feel for one another.”

  “Walk away, Quinn.”

  I reach for my shirt and pull it off, dropping it to the floor. I stand there in my black, lace bra and red shorts. My hand goes to the button on my shorts, and I watch him stand there, looking frozen. “I can’t. Can you?” I slide the shorts down my hips, and they crumple around my bare feet.

  Colt closes his eyes. “Quinn,” he says in a strangled voice.

  I’m getting somewhere. Finally. I’m still wearing the equivalent of a bikini—something he could still walk away from, so while he wars with his desire, I slip off my bra and panties. I walk over to him. “Colt.”

  His eyes fly open, and as he takes in my nude body, lust comes to life in his gaze. Those heated eyes settle on my breasts. One thing I’ve learned is that men seem to like breasts, big or small. Mine are small handfuls, but they’re firm and pert. They don’t embarrass me, though I do wish they were a tad bigger.

  I move closer, pressing my hand flat against his bare chest, my head tilting so I can see his gaze. He’s struggling to do what he feels is right, but his body has other ideas. “It’s just you and me, Colt. I’m not asking to be your girlfriend, I’m not asking for your future. Let our bodies do the talking, let it happen instead of fighting it. The only way this will break us is if you let it,” I say softly.

  “Quinn…”

  I take the choice out of his hands and rise to my tippy toes, my lips pressing against his. As I coax a kiss out of him, I press my bare breasts against his chest. That’s all he’d needed was for me to make the final move, because he comes alive. His warm hands settle around my waist, and he lifts me in his arms and strides towards his bed. He drops me onto the mattress, and I can’t help but release a yelp as I bounce once, my legs falling open.

  Colt stands there, his chest heaving slightly, his dick bulging beneath the towel still wrapped around his hips. His eyes are focused between my legs, and I know my flesh is coated with my arousal.

  “Fuck…me,” he says hoarsely.

  I grin impishly. “I plan to.”

  He bends down, and like a predator, he crawls to where my legs are parted, and my heart hammers in my chest. I want his lips on me so bad. He grabs my thighs and opens them wide, his eyes focused intently on my femininity.

  He settles in, and his eyes lock on mine as his mouth closes in on my flesh. At the first touch of his tongue swiping along my slit, I arch my hips and gasp. “Don’t stop,” I beg, aching for him to bring to life one of my favorite fantasies of us together.

  “I’m not stopping until you come, and you come hard,” he growls against my clit, his eyes holding a delicious promise.

  “Colt!” I beg, anxious for him to give me what I want.

  His eyes are still on mine, and his lips part as he bares his teeth, catching my clit between them. The sensation has me moaning, and I stare down at him with wild eyes. Gently, he begins to release the bundle of nerves, being sure to drag his teeth lightly along the delicate skin.

  This is the best and worst kind of torture. I shudder and try to press myself back to his mouth, but his lip quirks as he watches me. The bastard. I’m so turned on that I’m swollen and aching with need. My hand quickly dives between my thighs, but Colt is quick to grab it and pin it down.

  “No, you don’t,” he says firmly.

  “You said you wouldn’t stop,” I practically whine with frustration.

  “You want it?” he taunts.

  “Yes!”

  His lips return to my folds, his eyes on mine with determination. He releases my hand, and as his tongue begins to ruthlessly flick my clit, he also slips a long finger inside me.

  I can’t take it anymore, and I drop my head back, my hands diggings into the bedsheets as I begin to thrust my hips in time to his ministrations. It feels so good. I’ve never felt anything as amazing as Colt going down on me.

  “Colt,” I gasp, needing more.

  He slips a second finger inside me and begins to stroke in and out, his tongue flattening against my clit as he applies pressure to it. I can hear his fingers moving in and out of my slick folds, and the sound turns me on. I arch my back, my body writhing.

  “Come on my tongue, Quinn,” Colt says in a dirty tone.

  I let out a low groan as his words trigger my orgasm. As my body splinters apart, I ride out the pleasure as I grind myself against his tongue. His mouth is pressed firmly against my center as my inner muscles constrict.

  Slowly, I come down from the orgasm and feel Colt moving from between my thighs. A drawer opens, and I hear a condom wrapper tear. When I force my eyes open, Colt hovers over me, his eyes scorching hot with lust. “I need to be inside you,” he says thickly.

  “Please,” I whisper, reaching for him.

  He settles his hips between my thighs, his chest resting against my breasts as his eyes stay locked on mine. His hardness presses into my moist center, and we both groan in unison as he easily slides in deep, filling me to the hilt.

  I spread my thighs wider and arch my hips. He releases a hiss and draws himself back before sinking deeply within me once more. “Fuck,” he whispers, his hips beginning to move in a slow, rhythmic motion.

  It’s not enough, and I clutch his shoulders and tightly wrap my legs around his hips. I arch into him, meeting his thrusts with more pressure. Colt’s eyes darken, and he drops his forehead onto mine as his hips begin to pump in and out at a faster pace. I shudder, and soon we’re both lost as he begins to hammer into me, over and over. The sounds of our flesh meeting echoes in my ears, and I gasp his name and hold onto him tightly.

  Colt hovers over me, his lips catching mine as his lower body works to bring us to the edge. His thrusts are harder, faster, and better than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  When I reach my orgasm, I tear my lips from his and let loose an intense moan as waves of ecstasy sweep through me. Colt thrusts one more time, and then he releases a guttural groan that causes my inner muscles to continue constricting.

  We’re a sweaty mass of limbs, and we lie there as we try to catch our breath. Colt pulls me onto his chest, and I rest my cheek against his damp skin as we begin to calm from the sexual frenzy that we’d been lost to. His heart beats steadily against my ear, and I’ve never felt so content in my entire life. There’s no doubt that I belong here—wrapped in his embrace. Colt’s completely silent, and I’m hoping it’s because he’s feeling as sated as I am and not because he’s shutting down on me.

  “That was…crazy amazing,” I murmur.

  One of his hands begins to lazily rub circles against the small of my back. “Not too vanilla?” he rumbles, and then I feel him grimace. “Shit. Forget I said that.”

  I can’t, because what he’d said was important or he wouldn’t have said it in the first place. As much as I want to linger in his arms, I know this is the time to have a serious discussion about everything he’d been avoiding. He opened the window to this
conversation, which is strange—even for him. He should be pissed that I’d ruthlessly seduced him, and he should be struggling with just how far we’ve strayed from platonic.

  Carefully, I ease out of his arms and sit up, gazing down at him, completely unperturbed that I’m naked. “You’re doubting just how much I enjoyed what we just shared?”

  His eyes jerk from my breasts to my face. “No. It was a stupid comment.”

  “Nothing you ever say is stupid.”

  He falls silent, and I can tell that the question is still lingering in his mind. The fact that he’s doubting my tastes and what he’d just made me experience causes my heart to ache. Damn Slade.

  “I never initiated anything outside of the norm. That was all him,” I say quietly, refusing to utter his name during such an intimate moment.

  His eyes are at half-mast as he gazes at me, and I can see that he’s hiding some of what he’s feeling. “Some of it you liked.”

  “Only because he touched my body in ways that made me enjoy it. It was the touching, not the actual stuff surrounding the act.”

  He still looks unhappy.

  I can’t believe we’re sitting here discussing Slade after having unbelievable sex, but at least we’re talking. This conversation was completely unexpected, but welcoming. I want to talk with him, not have him shut down on me.

  “Colt, I don’t have fantasies of you tying me up or pinning me down. No kinky shit. What we just did, that’s how I like it. The thing that turns me on most is being in charge. I’m dying to explore you and control your pleasure. That excites me. I want to make you mindless with desperation as I love your body so good that you pass out afterwards,” I say huskily. His eyes have turned hooded and darker, letting me know that I’m turning him on all over again. And if I’m not mistaken, he’s really on board with the idea of me fucking him senseless.

  However, now it’s time to turn the tables on him. “You didn’t break her arm, Colt. She tripped,” I say softly.

  The lust quickly fades from his gaze as a coolness replaces it.

  I arch an eyebrow. “What? You think you can bring up dickhead without me bringing up the little drama queen bitch?”