Page 27 of Along Comes Trouble

“I…” I don’t have words for what I’m feeling. Can’t explain what it means to be so full. It hurts so deliciously that I can’t think and I want more and can’t imagine taking more all at the same time. “I …”

Colton sheaths himself in me, his mouth working magic along my neck. “Am I hurting you ?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean …”

He stops kissing me and looks me in the eyes, concern dancing across his face .

“I mean don’t stop,” I say, and he takes me at my word, gripping my ass and hooking my other leg around his waist. He is heat and movement and I melt around him, losing everything I thought I knew about the world while he thrusts into me. I come almost immediately, gritting my teeth against the sounds I can’t help but make .

“Relax, Blue Eyes.” Colton’s voice is fuel to the fire and I let out a long moan as I succumb to feelings and sensations I’ve never experienced before. I grip his back, crying out, his name falling from my lips like a prayer. An invocation. A plea, but for what, I don’t know. As his thrusts grow more insistent, something unlocks inside me and I fall away. Stars dance in my eyes and yes! There! That! Yes! Oh fucking hell! Yes !

Colton shudders and buries himself inside me, his jaw tense, his eyes burning with passion, and then he lets out a long breath, presses his forehead to mine, and smiles. “I told you it wasn’t just sex .”

“That was…something .”

It was everything .

It was more than I knew possible .

It was an epiphany .

A lightning bolt of knowledge and understanding that’s fading with each and every second .

A life-altering experience that will forever alter the course of my destiny because how can I be the same person I was this morning after what we just did ?

Colton presses a kiss to my lips and slides out of me. While he disposes of the condom and gets dressed, I excuse myself to clean up in the bathroom, where my wig still lays in a heap on the tile. I take a minute to stare at my reflection. “What the hell was that?” I murmur to myself, staring deeply into my own eyes, wondering if I can see all the ways I’ve changed .

When I come back downstairs, I find Colton sprawled on my couch, one arm thrown up over the back. Shyness overwhelms me. What am I supposed to say? What should I do? Do I sit down with him? Curl into him? Press my cheek to his chest so I can breathe him in and listen to his heartbeat? Or is that too intimate? I pause at the bottom of the stairs, uncertainty freezing me in place .

“Sit with me.” Colton slaps the couch cushion and holds out an arm .

I curl up against him and he wraps his arm around me, kissing the top of my head and breathing me in while I try to memorize everything about the moment. “Thank you,” I finally say after several long moments of silence .

Colton shifts to look at me. “Thank me ?”

Heat blazes into my cheeks. “Yeah. Maybe it’s weird. I mean, I’m sure it’s weird. But thank you for…” I sit up and gesture toward the wall across from my front door, a sight that will welcome me home until I finally save up enough to buy my house. “I’ve never done it like that before .”

“Like what?” Colton’s eyes go wide. “Against a wall ?”

I suck in my lips and shake my head. “Not against a wall and never…” I pause, looking for the words and totally ashamed about having started this conversation. “Never so spontaneously. We didn’t even make it all the way into my apartment .”

A slow smile brightens Colton’s face. “Oh, Tess. Just wait. The things I want to do to you will make this afternoon seem tame. I promise .”

As much as I’m curious to find out what he has in mind, I find the conversation overwhelming. I search for a safer topic .

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “I have stuff to make brownies.” In my post orgasmic state, loose and happy and free, baked goods sound like the perfect indulgence to me .

Colton’s lips part. “Brownies? You’re speaking my language, woman .”

I lead him into the kitchen and pull out the flour, sugar, and cocoa. “Do you like them plain or with frosting?” I ask, one hand on the refrigerator door, confused by his equally confused expression .

“I’m still processing the fact that you didn’t pull out a box of the premade stuff. Are you telling me you’re going to make brownies from scratch ?”

“Is there any other way?” I open the fridge and grab the butter and eggs. “For that matter, if all you’re used to is box brownies, I’m going to go ahead and frost these babies because you, sir, are in need of a decent brownie education .”

“You think ?”

“I know. Grab me a mixing bowl, please?” I point to a cabinet .

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