Page 36 of The Retreat

Colin’s expression changes. “I think it would be good for you. You’re good, and I think you enjoy it as much as Oliver does.” Does he see through me so easily?

“I do enjoy it, but I don’t know these people, and I’ll have to go to their training facility and…” I trail off when I see Colin’s expression. “What?”

“So? You have a private jet. I can—” Colin cuts himself off.

“What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say that I could travel to see you and come visit on the weekends.” He avoids my eyes.

I smile. It’s weird and makes my cheeks hurt. “That’s a lot of work with school, and I know how you like to go out on the weekends.”

“I want to support you. Even if you’re only my fake husband.” He smiles too, but it’s softer. More reserved.

“Support isn’t flying out all the time. That’s a lot.”

He lifts a shoulder. “To me, that’s support.”

“I’ll call him back.”

Colin puts out his hands and wiggles his fingers. I roll my eyes but lift my arms, leaving my silk pajama pants open to him.

He doesn’t move right away. “It feels like Christmas.”

“Now or you’re losing it.”

He brushes his fingertips along the waistline of my pants before coming down to slip his hand into my pocket. He steps closer until our chests are touching. He pushes his hand deeper, pulling the silk to brush over my dick. I harden halfway, and for some reason how it felt when he held me that day after my panic attack comes to mind.

Is my body missing human contact?

How inconvenient and rude would that be? Fucking human needs.

I look into his baby blue eyes and his grin widens. “I feel your pants pulling tighter.”

“You expect to pull silk over my cock repeatedly and me not get half hard?” My words come breathless as he yanks my pants again, rubbing them over my dick blatantly. A groan slips past my lips.

Colin cocks his head.

“Don’t read into it,” I say, not sure if I even mean it.

“But you aren’t asking me to stop.” He’s right.

I haven’t, and I don’t know why. “I’m waiting for you to get your phone.”

“And not complaining about my teasing.” Colin catches his lip between his teeth and shifts, brushing his fingertips over my cock, only the thin silk inside of my pocket separating us.

We both draw in a breath.

“I could—” Colin starts.

I cut him off. “I have to call the coach back.”

He retrieves his phone, and I step back in a hurry.

I’m dialing the number before I let myself think about any of what happened. I don’t have room to process any of it or why I’m letting my fake husband push all my buttons.

“Hello?” Coach Ryker answers.

“Hi, this is Owen returning your call.”

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