Page 10 of Colt
“Want more or are you ready to listen?”
“I want you to let me up and then I’m going to–”
I spanked her again, a little harder this time. Then reached around and tugged on the drawstring. The pants loosened and I yanked them and her panties down below her ass.
It was like that night at the rodeo, except now she was like a bronc trying to buck off my lap.
Her gorgeous ass was already stained pink. I gave her two more swats and she shouted and growled. Hissed like a cat, even.
“I can go all afternoon.”
Finally, after a minute of spanking–not too hard because I was in the wrong in all this and I didn’t want her to think for a second this was punishment–and swear words that were impressively inventive, she called out, “You… you weren’t there.”
My raised hand settled on her upturned, very pink, ass, but not to give it another swat, but to cup that heated flesh. To stroke it. My shoulders slumped and the guilt and frustration I’d been carrying for the past six months flared so hot it burned.
Taking off my Stetson, I tossed it onto the sofa beside us.
“I know,” I said simply. I was at fault here. “Do you know what it’s like to have the woman of my dreams atmy hotel room and I wasn’t there? Waiting with a wet and swollen pussy I’d just fucked. Who put herself out there, made herself vulnerable and then I ghosted? That she probably hated me and there wasnothingI could do about it? I couldn’t go after her or track her down? Because I didn’t know her fucking name.” The last I said through gritted teeth.
“If it was just a one-time thing, you could’ve said so,” she told me. “Not make me feel foolish knocking on an empty hotel room door.”
The way she was angled, her head was tipped down close to the floor. I couldn’t have this conversation like this any longer. She had to look in my eyes, see my face as I said the words of my own disappointment and heartbreak. I lifted her and settled her on my lap, her knees by my hips.
Her hair was wild and with handcuffed wrists, she tucked it behind one ear, then the other.
I sighed, then stroked her hair, smoothing the strands she missed. “Pretty girl, there was nothing more I wanted to do than be there to open it. To let you in and finish what we started and never fucking let you go.”
Her hurt gaze met mine. “But–”
“But my brother got hurt on his ride and I had to go with him to the hospital.”
She frowned, her head cocking ever so slightly to the side.
“Your brother?”
“You gonna listen?”
She nodded.
“My brother is Trig Wilder. If you follow pro rodeo, then you’ve probably heard of him. He competed that night… hell, while I was balls deep inside you, and got thrown. Landed bad and hurt his knee. That was the message I got on my phone and why I left. He was already in the back of the ambulance and I had to climb in and go with him.”
“Is he okay?”
I had to shrug because the question was really for Trig. “His knee is okay if he doesn’t get on the back of a bull again. Skiing’s probably out, too. He met a woman last week and married her two days later. He retired because she’s his life now.”
She bit her lip.
Trig’s fall was the culprit behind this whole mess, but it wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I could even blame my dick because if I’d had any brain cells left in my head, I’d have at least asked her name. “By the time I got to my hotel room, it was after two and–you weren’t there.”
Her gaze flicked down and to the side. “I showed,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes, wishing I hadn’t made her feel that pain or rejection. “Fuck.” When I opened them, I cupped her cheeks, forced her gaze to hold mine. “I’m sorry. For not being there. For not getting your name. For making you think, even for a split second, that you weren’t wanted. Do you believe me?”
Her eyes roamed over my face for a second, then another. “It’d be easy enough to look up Trig Wilder’s injury from that night. It’d be not only in the reports from the event that I have access to, but also in the media. A big name like his getting hurt would’ve gone viral, I’m sure.”
I laughed, but it wasn’t from amusement. “Lots of clips of him being thrown,” I confirmed.
“If you were going to lie to me–”
