Crashed

Colton’s hand stills on my thigh as he stutters out a laugh. “What?” I love the look on his face right now. Carefree, careless, and unburdened from the secrets that are no longer between us.

I just smile at him lying on his side next to me as I adjust the pillow behind me and lie back, sighing, his amused eyes still staring at me. Music plays overhead as I shrug at him, suddenly feeling silly for my comment. It’s just that I feel like everything is coming full circle. Things I said I wanted to do, I needed to do, promises I made when he was lying in that hospital bed, I need to keep.

“Yes, ice cream for breakfast,” I tell him, wincing as I move and my panties tug on the bandage over my new tattoo—the tattoo my mother is going to kill me over when she finds out about it. But the sudden startled look in his eyes pulls me from my thoughts and causes me to lean forward to look at him closer, curious as to what just put it there. He stares back at me momentarily, and then after blinking his eyes a few times as if he’s trying to figure something out, he just shakes his head and smiles at me, melting my heart, and confirming that I have absolutely no regrets.

About being with him or the tattoo I just got to prove it.

Of the ups and the downs that our relationship has gone through, endured, persevered, and come out stronger for.

None of it, because it brought us here to this point—right here, right now.

Healing together and loving one another.

Taking the first steps toward our future.

He angles his head on his hand propped on his elbow beneath him and quirks his lips. “Well, what the woman wants, the woman gets.”

“I like the sound of that,” I say, wiggling my hips, “because I have a whole lot of wants, Mr. Donavan.”

“Oh really? And what might those be?” He raises his eyebrows, a lascivious smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the edge of my bandage. He looks up at me, lust and so much more dancing in the depths of his eyes as he slowly crawls his way up my body until his lips are inches from mine.

And my God, do I want to lean in and taste those lips and feel my skin hum to life from his touch, but I opt for one more request before losing myself in him, to him. “For dinner, I want—”

“Pancakes.” Colton finishes my sentence. “Ice cream for breakfast and pancakes for dinner. I remember hearing you say that.” His voice is filled with awed reverence as my heart soars at the revelation that he heard me when he was unconscious in the hospital. I watch him try to process everything with a soft shake of his head. “You talked a lot,” he murmurs, leaning closer to my lips but not touching, and I know he’s smiling because I can see the lines bunch around his eyes.

“So we have our menu planned for tomorr—”

Colton leans forward and captures my mouth with his in a soft kiss. “It’s time to stop talking, Ryles,” he says as he leans back to look me in the eyes, humor and unguarded love reflected in them.

“Colton,” I say, arching my back to try and brush my breasts against his bare chest because everything in my body at this moment is desperate for his touch, his taste, the connection between us. And when he stays still and doesn’t move, I reach out and grab the back of his neck, trying to pull him into me, but he doesn’t move.

He just remains motionless, staring at me with such intensity. And for the first time I understand what he meant when he told me I was the first one to ever really see him—to see into the depths of his soul—because right now there’s nothing I can hide from him. Absolutely nothing. Our connection is that strong, that irrefutable.

It’s been such an emotional evening, more so for him than for me, but my body is humming for a physical release. It’s vibrating with need and all I want is him.

“Rylee …” It’s that one word plea of my name on his lips that gets me every time.

“Don’t Rylee me,” I implore as I watch concern edge the desire from his eyes. I move my hands to frame his cheeks and hold him still so he has no option but to hear me. “I’m fine, Colton.”

“I’m so afraid I’m going to hurt you …” His voice fades and the concern that floods it makes every part of me slip further under his tidal wave of love.

“No, baby, no. You’re not going to hurt me.” I lean forward and brush my lips to his and then lean back until I can see his eyes again. “You not wanting to be with me, that hurts me. Destroys me. I need you, Colton, every side of you—physical and emotional. After tonight, after we’ve stripped away everything that’s been keeping us apart, I need to share this with you. Connect in every way possible because it’s the only way I can truly show you how I feel about you. Show you what you do to me.”

I can hear his shuddered exhale moments before the heat of it hits my lips. His hand flexes on my bicep and then softens as if he wants and then doesn’t want at the same moment. He just stares at me, indecision written across his face. And then that muscle pulses in his jaw, his last tell of resistance, because the desire clouding his eyes tells me his decision has already been made.

When he leans in to kiss me, I don’t think victory has ever tasted so sweet.

His lips brush softly against mine, once, twice, and then his tongue delves between my lips and licks against mine. He slides his hands behind my back and gathers me against him while our tongues dance a seductive ballet. His hands find their way beneath the hem of my shirt and then tease my bare skin as he draws my shirt up and over my head.