by Drea Stein
Colby stood up finally as Princess went to go rest on her dog bed, content to wait out the storm from her perch on the porch now that the decision was hers. Already the rain was letting up, and Tory was pretty certain that there would be a chance to see a sunset.
From inside the house, Tory heard a high-pitched squeal.
“Water’s ready,” Colby said and held the door for her.
She stepped in, not sure what to expect. “Wow, it’s charming.”
“Well, it’s a bit on the small size but big enough for me and Princess. I’ve thought about expanding it, but I’ve just been so busy with work I haven’t quite gotten around to it.”
Colby stepped over to the small counter that divided his kitchen from the one other room in the cottage. He turned off the stove and held up a mug.
Tory nodded.
“Milk, sugar?”
“Both,” she said
She watched as he pulled out another mug for himself, then the sugar and some milk from his fridge. She liked the way his movements were spare and elegant, no hesitation, nothing wasted as he went about something as ordinary and domestic as making her a cup of tea.
“Thank you,” she said as she took the mug he handed her, wrapping her hands around it.
Now that she had a source of warmth, she could take a moment to look around the place. It wasn’t large, as he had admitted, but it was open and clean and had more style than she would expect from a single guy. Everything was bright and light, with the dark-stained wood floors contrasting sharply against the crisp white-painted walls. The theme here was beachy minimalism, with just enough furniture to be comfortable, like the simple navy slipcovered couch, which faced the TV, a long narrow eating table with four industrial-looking metal chairs and the small but efficient galley kitchen, separated from the rest of the room by a black granite-topped work island.
There were a few pictures on the wall, mostly black-and-white photographs of landscapes, ranging from rugged mountains to booming surf. A shelf unit held some books and a few photos, and there was a guitar propped up in the corner. Nowhere was there the homage to cars she had expected.
“There’s a powder room downstairs, and then the upstairs is just one bedroom and a bath. It’s more of a loft than a room. Compact, but it gets the job done.”
He picked up a blanket from the back of his couch and dropped it over her shoulders, saying, “Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, would we, darling?”
His Southern accent hit the last word and drew it out until she found herself shivering, but not from the cold. What was it about his soft drawl that had her belly doing flip-flops and shooting little licks of heat down there? Colby wasn’t part of her plan, but she couldn’t stay away from him or deny the attraction she felt for him. The problem was that it wasn’t just simple attraction, it wasn’t just the thought of sex, the anticipation of it. He was getting under her skin, invading her thoughts and her mind. He was more. And she wanted him. Wanted something more than the way she had been living.
“Thank you,” she managed to say.
Colby took a step back, giving her room to breathe, and she felt herself relax.
From behind her, music filtered on. She turned. “What is this?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard it?”
“Is it country?” It wasn’t a new song, but one of those decidedly old-fashioned tunes.
“Yep.” He smiled and rocked a bit on his bare feet, having shed his cowboy boots for their walk on the beach, his hands locked into the loops on his jeans, a grin on his face.
They listened together for a moment as someone sang in a high, sweet, clear voice, about love and loss and the banging of a screen door.
He looked at her, and she felt the connection between the two of them, knew that if she wanted to save herself, she should say something, say that she needed to get back home, to herself, before she became lost in him, with him. But she said nothing, waiting.
The song switched to something else, something newer she recognized from the local country station.
Colby smiled at her, slow and sexy. “All of a sudden, I think this has become one of my favorites.”
“Why?”
“Because you can two-step to it.”
“Two step?” Tory said, not sure she had heard right. Whatever happened, she didn’t, couldn’t care. She was with Colby, and it was right where she wanted to be.
“The Texas two-step? Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it?” Colby shook his head regretfully. “Let me guess, you can boogie on down, waltz the box step, but you don’t know the two-step?”
She laughed, then stopped when she realized he was deadly serious. “I don’t think I do.” She’d never been much of a dancer, preferring to watch from the sidelines while other people made fools of themselves.
“Then consider this the perfect opportunity to learn.”
“What, now?” She almost took a step back as he approached her, but she stopped, stopped dead still as he stood there, a challenge in his eyes, his hand held out.
She slipped the blanket from her shoulder, dropping it onto a chair, knowing as she did so that she was making a leap forward, from which she wouldn’t be able to go back.
Her hand slid into his, and he snugged her close, his arm wrapping around her, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. The feel of it was hot and sent warmth all over her. She hadn’t needed a blanket; she had needed him.
She looked up into his blue eyes, saw that the light twinkle in them was gone, that they were darker, filled with longing, and she knew that he wanted her. But his arms were gentle and his movements slow and smooth as he began to lead her in the dance.
“Now just relax, and let me do the leading.”
“I don’t know if I’m very good at that.”
“What, giving over control?” Colby laughed. “Kind of figured that, but that’s not a bad thing. Keeps it interesting.”
He moved her around, and she felt herself melt into him. She could feel the strong pull of his muscles underneath his shirt, still damp from the sudden rainstorm, feel the scrape of his stubble on his chin across the top of her head, and she allowed herself to lean into his chest, smell his scent—a mix of spicy aftershave, soap and laundry detergent. She breathed in, and she felt his chest move below her as his breath caught.
“What, I didn’t step on your toes, did I?”
“No,” he stopped his movements and looked down at her, “but if you’re going to keep up with that, getting that close to me, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to let you go. At least not before I do this,” he said.
He angled down, and his lips hovered just above hers. She reached up to him, on her toes, so that her lips could meet his. He brushed hers gently as if asking for permission, waiting for her to say no. When she didn’t, his mouth covered hers and his arms twisted around her, sliding down her back, to her hips and waist so he could pull her close. She locked her arms around his neck and let her hands play in the silky curls of hair that spilled over the nape of his neck to touch the collar of his shirt.
She heard someone moan in pleasure and knew it was her. She was rewarded with a rumble of desire from him as their kiss deepened, passion fueling it. His hands were roaming now, as if he needed to feel her, to get a sense of her. He drew back once, looked into her eyes, and she saw the haze of lust, of desire, of need there, and she knew that he saw the same answer in her own eyes because his lips clamped down on hers and this time there was no hint of hesitation, no sense of feeling her out.
She found that they were moving together, toward the couch. She let him lower her onto it as his hands skimmed over her wet t-shirt, down to the waistband of her jeans.
“Is this all right?”
It was all she could do to nod as she reached her arms around and pulled off his shirt. She smiled as her hands roamed over his skin, warm to the touch. He did have the most beautiful body—broad shoulders, a flat stomach and strong arms that right no
w were wrapped around her.
“Not fair,” he said with a wicked smile as he drew back from her just enough to reach down and pull her own shirt up and away from her body. The air was cold, and she shivered just for a moment before his hands, warm and assured, were on her. He skimmed his hands over her breasts, his thumb gently connecting with her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra.
She arched her back as her body convulsed with sensation. He drew his chin down, and light stubble tickled the sensitive skin of her neck as he deftly used one hand to undo the clasp of her bra.
He pulled back and smiled at her. “You have a beautiful body, Tory, and I’d like to get to know every part of it.”
She could only nod, as the simple statement, the pure sexiness of it, sank in. Already her heart was racing, and then he drew his hand across her breast, his thumb working her nipple until it throbbed with desire. She could hear somewhere in the background the twangy sound of a guitar and someone singing about cold beer and fireflies, and there was the lightest patter of rain on the roof and, over it all, the sound of ragged breathing that she knew must be her own.
Colby kissed her again as his hands trailed down her body to her jeans. Slowly, together, they peeled her out of them, and his hands ran back up the inside of her legs, causing her to shiver in anticipation. Her whole body was aflame with it and when his hand slowly, tortuously made its way up between her legs, it was all she could do to beg him not to stop.
But he didn’t, and he slowly coaxed her higher. She opened her eyes and saw the wicked gleam of pleasure in his eyes as he watched her. Then he kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around him as her whole body responded to his touch, climbing ever higher until she reached the top and called out his name as pleasure raced through her.
She needed him now, and she ran her hands down his back until she reached the waistband of his jeans. She unbuttoned them and drew down the fly, releasing him. She touched him, and he groaned—a low, hoarse sound that had her grinning with delight. He wanted her and was ready for her, and she was more than ready for him.
Tory tugged off the rest of his clothes and took a moment to admire his lean, muscled body and the way his blue eyes looked at her hungrily.
“Don’t make me wait,” she said, and that was all the invitation he needed as he slid into her, finding his way. His movements became more assured, and she moved with him, wrapping her legs around him, feeling the pleasant tension in her rise. Together, they rode the wave of pleasure, until Tory was pushed over the edge again and her whole body spasmed in release. Colby followed her, and they sank into each other, spent, satisfied.
#
They lay there unmoving, Colby waiting until his heartbeat had returned to normal. He kissed Tory’s forehead and lifted himself up on his arms so that his weight wasn’t resting on her.
“That was….” He searched for words.
“Incredible,” she said as he rolled to his side and she snuggled into him. He threw a leg over her, to keep her warm and because he wasn’t quite ready to let her go.
“I was thinking it was like cherry pie and fireworks on the Fourth of July,” he said. There was a blanket around here somewhere. He turned his head, saw that it had fallen on the floor and pulled it up over them.
Tory sighed, and he could feel her body melt into him. It was a good feeling, one that he had missed, one that he hungered for. There was something about her that made him feel both peaceful and excited. He didn’t quite understand, didn’t want to ask too many questions of it, of her—just wanted to enjoy it for what it was. For now. Until he could think more about it later.
“It stopped raining,” she said, and he turned. The storm had cleared out; he could see that she was right. The sky was streaked in the colors of a brilliant sunset, the whole horizon lit up in oranges and pinks as the last bit of the sun slid down into the water.
Princess was at the screen door, looking plaintively in with her tail thumping. He could have sworn she was smiling and wondered if she had watched the whole thing. If so, she looked pleased, as if she approved. Now that she had his attention, she gave a small, quiet whine and then a more insistent bark.
“It’s dinner time for someone,” Tory murmured. As if on cue, he heard her stomach rumble.
He laughed as she punched him lightly on the arm.
“I thought when you asked me out, you meant for dinner,” she said, her voice teasing.
“And I have every intention of keeping that promise, for both my ladies, but on one condition,” he said.
He rolled over to look at her, to brush the hair from her face. She was smiling, and he ran his hand along her side, feeling her skin shiver under his touch.
“Stay with me?” he asked and waited. Tory’s body stilled, and he could see her eyes go dark. He wondered, just for a moment, who had hurt her, what kept causing her to hold back.
“You mean tonight?”
“Yes, with me, in my bed, here,” he said.
“If it’s a second round you want,” she said, levering herself up on one elbow to kiss him, “you don’t need to bribe me with a bed, you know. All you have to do is ask.”
He could feel his body respond to her invitation, but he wasn’t so easily dissuaded. He pushed her hand back and turned so that he was leaning over her, his eyes staring into hers. The smile died on her lips.
“Round two, round three, as much as you want, Tory, but promise me you’ll spend the night?”
She licked her lips, as if considering her options, and he took that opportunity to trail one of his hands lightly down her body until it rested just inside her thighs. She gasped, and he waited.
She nodded, and he smiled, kissing her again.
#
Tory had thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in strange bed and not with the presence of an overlarge dog staring at her. But sleep was coming easily enough, she thought as she lay next to Colby, his arms wrapped around her, her stomach full after the promised dinner and Princess sleeping soundly on her dog bed on the floor.
Colby had given her rounds two and three and even four. In between, he had made her pasta, and they had pretended to watch TV until he had pulled her up the steep, ladder-like stairs to his sleeping loft. It was just tall enough so he could stand up straight, and the space consisted only of a bed, a bureau and a nightstand table, besides the surprisingly large bathroom. He had found sweats and an old t-shirt for her, even a clean toothbrush as Princess looked on, her tail thumping approvingly.
And now Colby was wrapped around her, his steady, even breathing almost keeping time with Princesses’ deep sighs. The clouds hadn’t completely blown away, as she had expected despite the brilliant sunset, and she lay there listening to a slight drumming of rain on the roof and the waves slapping at the shore, driven a little faster and stronger by the wind.
It was peaceful, it was right, and it was more than she had ever felt before, and she wondered for a moment if she should be scared, but then she shoved that thought away and decided just to enjoy it, to enjoy the moment of having Colby’s strong arms wrapped around her.
Chapter 33
“You’re glowing,” Lynn said, eyeing a bucketful of lilies. They were at the florist, to meet Phoebe, to help pick out arrangements for the wedding.
“I think the roses are nice, don’t you?” Tory said as a way of deflecting.
“You do look different,” Phoebe said coming up behind them, holding what looked like ferns.
“It’s because she had amazing sex,” Lynn said, putting a carnation back in the bucket. The smell of flowers surrounded them and twinkly music was playing the background. It should have been relaxing, Tory thought, a shopping expedition with her friends but Lynn was turning into an Inquisition. Of course it didn’t help that she was jumpy enough herself.
“I did?” Tory said, trying to keep her voice casual.
“You had to. That’s why you’re glowing, because you just had the most amazing sex of your life.” Lynn’s
fingers hovered over a rose and her dark eyes lit up with excitement.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tory said walking over to where a big binder stood on a stand, filled with pictures of arrangements. She flipped through the book, but nothing except a rainbow of colors registered.
“You look green,” Tory heard Phoebe say to Lynn.
“It’s just the smell, a little overpowering. Forget about me. Tory and the cowboy did it.”
“I never said that,” Tory protested, but she could feel her friends staring at her.
“You didn’t have to,” Phoebe said calmly. “It’s practically written all over your face, but you don’t seem that happy about it.”
“Don’t tell me it wasn’t good,” Lynn said in mock horror.
“No, it was fine. I mean, better than fine.” Tory didn’t particularly want to discuss all of the details of her weekend with Colby with Lynn and Phoebe, but it wasn’t fair to let them think there had been anything wrong with it—not when it had been … perfect. Every minute of the weekend she had spent with Colby had been wonderful, from dinner, to brunch, to dessert. Even if it had felt more than casual.
“So, then, what’s the problem?” Phoebe asked.
“It’s a problem because it doesn’t fit into the plan,” Lynn said with a knowing smile.
“I don’t have a plan,” Tory said.
“You have a plan for everything, even your ‘uncomplicated’ love life. And I have a feeling that things with Colby are just a bit more complicated than you thought,” Lynn said.
“I don’t have a plan for my love life. I just told you I don’t have a lot of expectations where romance is concerned.”
“Ah, so it wasn’t just great sex, was it? You felt something,” Lynn dropped her voice down to a whisper as if in mock horror, “deeper.”
“You mean it meant something? It wasn’t just a one-night stand?” Phoebe said.
“Shh,” Tory said looking, around. “You make it sound like I sleep with every guy I go out with. And that’s not true. It’s just I don’t see why you have to be in love with someone to enjoy sex. I just learned the hard way that just because you have amazing sex doesn’t mean anything.”