Page 93 of 5 Golden Flings

Holding back was too hard. He leaned forward, nuzzling his face against the inner curve of her breasts. Her back arched, pushing her closer to his face and harder against his body.

Grasping her hips, he urged her into a rhythm as he captured one sweet nipple in his mouth. The primal suction drove him higher but he forced himself to focus on her.

Her body glided up and down against his stomach, just brushing his cock with her backside before pulling away again. He wanted to cry out, but sucked harder instead. Withinseconds, she shuddered against him, her long, low moan filling the air.

Instead of a soft surrender, Brynn quickly lifted her hips, guiding his cock directly against that oh so soft spot he needed the most. Her sheathing was quick. This time he did cry out, arching his hips to bury himself as tightly into her heat as he could.

It was the only concession he gave himself.

Luckily, Brynn wasn’t interested in soft and sweet. She rode him hard, bombarding him on all sides with a tight grip, volcanic heat, and jiggling curves. He smothered himself in her breasts, sucking whatever flesh he could reach.

Oh Jesus, help me.Just when he thought he would lose his grip on reality, Brynn screamed. Her body clamped around his—hips, hands, and cock. Colby let himself follow her lead to oblivion.

As the water slowly calmed around them, a sense of reverence and wonder settled over him. As if in this building once built for spiritual enlightenment, Colby had just made a pledge to protect and serve like knights of old. A moment of certain direction in a life lived aimlessly for the last year.

A moment when he knew without a doubt he would protect this woman with all that he had, even against the unknown.

CHAPTER 11

They’d operatedin a comfortable silence while refilling the tub and washing each other down. At least, it felt that way to Brynn. From the smile on his face, she assumed it was the same for Colby.

How she’d gotten to this place so easily and so fast, she wasn’t sure. Yes, it could be brought on by their isolation and proximity, but she liked to think she wouldn’t have sex with just any man she’d been locked up in an ice storm with.

Colby was different. And it made her feel different.

Both about him and about what she was here for. She still intended to find the photos, but where she would go from there didn’t seem so certain anymore. Maybe her drive would return when she found the hiding place. Somehow, though this idea of revenge had fueled her for the last year, she was okay with the uncertainty.

She’d cross the bridge when she got to it.

“How about some hot chocolate? I could heat some water up on the fire,” she said.

Colby smiled at her, but then got a faraway look in his eyes. “Too bad we don’t have some of the Christmas shortbread cookies I have at the house. That would be great with them.”

“Did you bake?” she asked as she filled a plastic pitcher from the cupboard at the sink. She wished she had more of the chocolate chip cookies she’d made herself.

She wasn’t gonna let him live that down.

That garnered a laugh. “Absolutely not. My mother forbid me from the kitchen at a young age—I was that bad with the stove. I usually stick to cans, sandwiches, or take-out. But my grandfather got me hooked on those dollar-a-box cookies they put out only around the holidays. Every store has their own brand, but I gather they’re all made from the same place. Just shortbread with sugar sprinkles shaped like wreaths or stockings or snowmen...”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve dunked that vanilla goodness into hot chocolate or coffee. Great way to gain ten pounds in December. I went last year and bought out the last of them on the day after Christmas so my grandfather could have them for a while longer...”

“That was sweet of you,” she said as she thought about those small things she also did to make her father’s last days more comfortable.

Colby winked. “Or selfish, since I ate them too.”

She laughed as she turned off the water and started across the kitchen. Only a few steps and the handle of the pitcher broke off with acrack, letting the rest tumble heavily to the floor. Brynn gasped as the plastic hit with athudand water sloshed out onto the wood floors. “Oh no!”

The paper towels nearby didn’t go far against a full pitcher of water. Colby grabbed some kitchen towels out of the drawer, butthe floor still had a puddle once they were soaked. “Let me go grab a bath towel.”

Great. With no electricity, she was gonna have to wait to wash all of these. Hopefully the cold would keep them from molding. She glanced around the kitchen for something else, but nothing was at hand. As she waited for Colby to return, she took a deep breath.

And heard water.

She glanced up at the sink, but it was off. Oh no, had a pipe burst? She opened the cabinets under the sink, but that made the noise sound farther away. Closing them again, she turned back to the kitchen at large. The sudden splashing sound had slowed to a steady drip, but louder, as if the water was falling from some distance. She leaned toward the kitchen island. Did the house have a crawl space?

That could be it, but the island didn’t have a sink or any pipes in it. As Colby came back in the room, she glanced down. Water had puddled up against the edge of the island. Leaking to...under the house?

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