Page 60 of Colton's Secret Weapon
She accepted his presence inside her with pure joy, welcoming his size, his strength, his need.
And when it was time to fly, she was there with him, too. Her body moving as urgently as his did, their need to reach the sky seemingly the same.
Until, in one breath, they cried out, her body convulsing around his as his pulsed within her.
There’d never been a more perfect dance.
A purer joy.
And minutes later, with her naked body beside his under the covers, lightly touching his, she fell back to sleep.
Mitchell slept, and when consciousness returned, he was wide awake. Forget-falling-back-to-sleep awake.
What in the hell had he done?
Allowed her to do?
Encouraged her to do?
Checking for the blinking lights of the alarm sensors that greeted him every morning, he left his bed in spite of the fact that dawn had not yet made its appearance. Taking his phone into the bathroom with him. A quick look at the downstairs cameras, verifying that there’d been no breaches during the night, he went straight for the shower. A cold one.
And returning five minutes later to his room fully clothed in the blue jeans and shirt he’d put in the hamper the night before, he wasn’t at all surprised to find Dove gone.
He had to shave. To grab clean clothes and get into them.
But first, he made a trek down to the kitchen. To get his coffee.
And to make certain that no unseen danger lurked in Dove’s midst. Standing outside the bathroom door between her room and the kitchen, he heard the shower running. Took a peek in her room just to assure himself that everything looked normal, and conceded that he was being a little paranoid.
Most particularly when he was relieved to find that she hadn’t packed her bags.
The fact that they’d had sex didn’t change the circumstances that were keeping them together. He had to make certain that she shared his understanding on that point.
Which was why, fifteen minutes later, when she came out dressed in a gauzy orange flowing skirt with yellow flowers, another long-sleeved cropped shirt in green silk and sandals with ties that ran up to her knees, he was standing barefoot and unshaven in his kitchen, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and sipping coffee.
The peaceful expression she’d been wearing as she’d entered the room disappeared the second she saw him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he told her. Except that change, the second she saw him, gave lie to his words.
“Someone called. Who? Kansas? Welding? Your brother?” And then with a deep breath, “The hospital?”
The stiffness in her shoulders propelled him toward her, to reach for her. Except that he had a cup of hot coffee in his hand.
And they weren’t…a couple.
“No one called. I just…needed to make certain that things were okay. Between us.”
The immediate softening of her features eased his tension immensely. Until she frowned. “Why? Aren’t you okay?”
Thinking of the night before, the incredible pleasure they’d made together, he said, “I am.”
She nodded then. “You just thought I wouldn’t be.”
With a nod he shrugged. Guilty as charged.
“No strings attached. No commitment of any kind to any future involvement between us,” she said, her gaze clear as she looked straight at him. Repeating what she’d said after the first time the subject had come up right there in his kitchen. “You think I was just kidding about that?”
Another shrug was all he had to give her. He wasn’t even sure why. It wasn’t like any of the women he’d been with had come after him wanting a wedding ring after one night together.
