“If it does, will I have to testify?” Before he could answer, her hand gripped his neck and she surprised Colt by saying, “Because, if it gets to that, I’m willing.” Her hand squeezed his neck and she went on. “You can tell them that.” She pressed against him, at his chest, her forehead moving deeper into his neck. “I want it on record, I don’t care where and if no one ever reads it, I want it on record what he did to us. I want to sit in a room and face him and tell him how he made me feel. I don’t care if it doesn’t penetrate that sick brain of his, I’m willin’ to do it and I want the opportunity to tell him how much I hate him.”
Colt was thinking that he might be wrong about Feb. Perhaps it wasn’t panic etched in her face, her frame. Perhaps the severity of emotion she was keeping hold of just barely was something else. Perhaps February Owens was made of something he didn’t expect. She’d been tested in the past and she’d failed. But that didn’t mean she didn’t learn from those failures.
She broke into his thoughts by asking, “You’ll let them know?”
He nodded and said, “Yeah, honey, I’ll let them know.”
She gave his neck another squeeze and wriggled closer before she whispered, “Good.”
Colt decided the time had come for them to move on to a more pleasant part of their evening and his arm at her waist dropped down so he could run his hand over her ass.
“All right, baby, I want my c**k inside you but I’m wiped,” he felt her tense against him as he kept talking, “so, seein’ as you spent the whole day sleepin’, I figure you’re up for doin’ all the work.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. Her eyes were soft in that sexy way again and her lips were tipped up at the ends.
“Yeah,” she said, “I’m up for that.”
* * * * *
Colt lay on his back, his hand at Feb’s breast, his other hand over hers between her legs, feeling her circle her own cl*t with her finger, watching her ride him and he knew she was close but she wasn’t close enough. Watching her, feeling her, listening to her, he was closer and he was going to come before she did.
“Baby, hurry,” he groaned and her head, tipped back, tilted forward, her hair slid into her face, around her shoulders, down her chest and her eyes, soft and turned on, focused on his.
Christ, just looking at her face when it was like that took him nearer the edge.
She leaned forward, putting her free hand to the bed, giving herself leverage to ram herself down harder on his cock, faster, and that was exactly what he didn’t need. Fuck, now she was driving him over the edge and he was struggling to hold onto his control, to fight against her pull. He wanted her to come with him.
He rolled her nipple with his fingers and heard her moan, he liked the sound but he wanted it in his mouth.
“Feb –”
Her finger moved from her cl*t to become two fingers sliding around the root of his cock.
“God,” she whispered, “that’s you.”
“It’s me, baby.”
She dropped down so her chest was against his, her mouth at his neck, her finger going back to circle her clit, this time faster, pressing deeper.
“I’ve got you back,” she breathed against his neck.
“I’m right here.”
“You’re inside me.”
“Feb –”
“Locked deep.”
Fucking hell, she needed to f**king hurry. He was about to explode.
“Feb, honey –”
“Locked deep,” she repeated on a whisper, he felt her pu**y convulse around his c**k just as she sucked in breath against his neck. He took his hand from her breast and grasped her hair, using it to pull her face out of his neck and bring it to him, her mouth opening over his and he absorbed her moan as he bucked his hips, buried himself deep and came right along with her.
After they came down, he pulled her hand out from between them and her weight collapsed on him as he circled her with his arms. She pressed her face back into his neck, slid the fingers of one hand into the hair at the side of his head and she ground her h*ps into his cock.
Her actions tore the words, “Fuck, baby,” out of him because it felt so damned good.
“Locked deep,” she whispered again and his arms tightened before his hands slid down to cup her ass.
Best place to be, Colt thought, locked deep in Feb. He was thinking figuratively because he knew it was true literally. She was a natural at this shit, considering she’d only had four lovers and apparently a number of long, dry spells. Hell, she was so good, she could teach classes.
His mind turning to that, he decided when this was all over, there were a few men in the town he’d be having words with. Twenty-two years ago they spread lies about Feb. He’d see to it now the truth would come out. She was still carrying around a reputation she didn’t earn, not that anyone cared anymore except Feb, and Colt couldn’t allow her to continue carrying that burden. In this mess that was a wrong Colt had the power to do something about and he intended to set it right.
Her fingers glided through his hair and she tilted her head to kiss the underside of his jaw, taking his mind from his thoughts.
“You go to sleep, darlin’,” she encouraged.
His fingers tensed on her ass. “Not tired?” he asked.
She shook her head and he heard her hair brush the pillow, her necklaces clinking and felt her nose brush his neck, three things he automatically committed to memory.
“Feb –”
“It’s okay, I’ll watch you sleep.”
He moved a hand from her ass to wrap it in her hair and lifted her head up with a gentle tug so he could look at her.
“Watch me sleep?” he asked, trying not to smile.
“Yeah,” she said, her lips tipped up at the ends.
He lost the fight with his smile and remarked, “That’ll be fascinating.”
Her smile died and she told him, “I used to do it all the time. Watch you sleep, thinkin’ how lucky I was, I had you.”
Colt felt that warmth hit his chest with a force that knocked the wind out of him.
He didn’t know that, she’d never told him. He was beginning to think he was uncertain about this new Feb who shared. She kept sharing, she’d undo him.
“Now I can do it,” she whispered, moving her face closer, “thinkin’ how lucky I am havin’ you back.”
He couldn’t take anymore.
Colt rolled her to her back, pulling out, losing their connection but covering her with his body as he ordered, “Shut up, Feb.”