His words leave me motionless. He’s echoed my thoughts of him despite the chaos and hurt from earlier. Maybe this combustible chemistry between us is because I possibly mean more than some of his others? He’s sending me all of the signals to validate this claim, and yet hearing it would mean so much more.

He lathers his hands up with a bar of soap and then proceeds to run them over my arms and down the front of my chest. I suck in a breath as his fingertips slide lazily over the peaks of my breasts and his mouth licks its way up the curve of my shoulder. “I don’t think I could ever get my fill of you.” Proving my point exactly. Words that say it but don’t really say it. “You’re always so reserved, but when I’m in you…” he shakes his head, a low hum deep in his throat “...you lose all sense of everything, become mine, submit completely to me.”

His words are a seduction on their own, never mind his thickening cock pressed up against the cleft of my backside. “How does that make me uninhibited?” I ask, angling my head back so I can rub against the coarse stubble on his jaw.

Colton’s laugh is a low rumble that reverberates through my back. “Let’s see…we’ll put it in baseball analogies for you since you seem to be so keen on them. Almost third base in a public hallway. Twice.” He chuckles. “Second base on a blanket at a beach.” With each word I can feel my cheeks redden. “Homerun, pressed against the window of my bedroom,” he pauses “...that overlooks a public beach.”

“What?” I gasp. Oh. Fucking. Hell. What is it about him that makes me lose my head? My ass was pressed against a glass wall while we had sex, and anyone could have enjoyed the show. I think dying from humiliation is a viable option right now. I have no other choice but to shift the blame. “It’s all your fault,” I tell him as I push away and splash water at him.

A cocky grin lights up his face. It’s a welcome sight from the haunted look from earlier. The dark and brooding bad boy has returned and is sitting across from me, knees and torso peeking out from above an overabundance of bubbles with a playful look on his face. Is it no wonder I’ve fallen for this man who’s such a juxtaposition of characteristics and actions?

And fallen damned hard without a safety line to hold on to. Fuck, I’m so seriously screwed.

“How’s that?” He splashes water back at me and catches my wrist in a quick grab when I try to retaliate. He pulls me toward him playfully, and I resist in turn. He gives up and I flop back, sloshing water out of the tub at all angles. We both erupt in a fit of laughter, bubbles floating through the air at my sudden movements. “I’ve been with plenty of women, sweetheart, and most aren’t as sexually candid as you’ve been, so you can’t blame me.”

I’m glad that we’re laughing when Colton makes his off the cuff remark because I can see him tense even though a smile remains on his face. I make a quick decision to remain playful despite the pang his remarks cause. I really don’t want to think about the plenty of women he’s been with, but I guess I can’t ignore them either. Maybe I can use this slip of his to my advantage, get more information on my fate as well as make a little point of my own.

“Oh really?” I arch a brow and scoot closer, a smile playing on my lips. “Plenty of women, huh? Glad I can surprise such an experienced man such as yourself.” I toy with him as I run my finger along the line of his throat and down between his pecs. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows at my touch. “Tell me,” I whisper suggestively as my hand dips beneath the water and rakes toward his already erect cock. “These plenty? How long do you usually keep them around for?”

He sucks in his breath as my fingers graze over the tip of his shaft. “This isn’t the right time to—aarrgh!” He whimpers as my hand cups his balls and massages them gently.

“It’s never the right time, but a girl’s gotta know these things.” I lower my mouth to suck on one of his flat nipples, tugging it gently with my teeth. He groans deeply, his mouth parting when I look up at him from beneath my lashes. “How long, Ace?”

“Rylee…” he pleads before I take his other nipple between my teeth at the same time I press the pleasure point just beneath his balls. “Four or five months,” he pants out in response. I laugh seductively, hiding the jolt that tickles up my spine at knowing the clock is ticking on my time with him. I lick my tongue up the line of his neck and tug on his earlobe. “Ah...” He sighs when I trace it around the rim.

“Good to know…”

He remains silent, his shallow breath the only sound. “You play dirty.”

“Someone once told me that sometimes you have to play dirty to get what you want.” I breathe into his ear, repeating his words back to him. My nipples, chilled from the air, skim over the taut skin on his chest.

He chuckles low and deep, and his eyes alight with humor because he knows he’s not the only one affected. I slide my other hand down his chest beneath the water, and I watch him watch my hand disappear. He looks back up at me and raises his eyebrows, curious as to where I’m going with this. When he just continues to stare at me, I grip the base of his shaft with one of my hands and twist it up and back on his length while the pad of my thumb on my other hand pays special attention to the crest. “Oh God that feels good, baby,” he moans. The look he sends me smolders so intensely with need and lust it’s enough to ignite my insides.

I stroke him a couple more times, enjoying this game I’m playing. Enjoying the fact that I can create such a visceral reaction from this man. I stop all motion and Colton’s eyes that have closed partway in pleasure fly open to meet mine. I smirk slowly at him.

“Just one more thing...” I can see the confusion on his face, his jaw grinding as he silently begs for the pleasure to return.

Now that I’ve gotten his attention, I continue again, altering my grip and angle of stroke. Colton hisses out at the difference in sensation, his head falling back against the edge of the tub. I stop again and cup his balls in my hand.

“Look, I know you were upset, but if you ever treat me like you did this morning again...” I enunciate each word, the teasing humor in my tone gone as I gently squeeze my hand around him “…disrespect me, degrade, or push me away by humiliating me, understand now that I will not be coming back like I did today—regardless of your reasons, how I feel about you, or what’s between us.”

Colton meets my implacable stare and doesn’t flinch at my threat. His mouth slides into a ghost of a smile. “Well it seems you have me by the balls both literally and figuratively, don’t you now?” he taunts, mischief dancing in his eyes.

I squeeze him softly, fighting the smirk that wants to play at the corners of my mouth. “Is that understood? Non-negotiable.”

“Crystal clear, sweetheart,” he says to me, his eyes conveying the sincerity within his response. Satisfied he understands what I am telling him, I shift in the water and release my hold on his balls. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I slide my hands up to his rigid length and repeat the motion that rendered him agreeable moments before. Colton groans a long, drawn out, “Non-negotiable.” And I don’t respond to his answer because I am so turned on watching his reaction. “Christ, woman,” he grates out, grabbing my hips and pulling me toward him. “You like to play hardball, don’t you?”

I accept his nudging and position myself over the top of his shaft. I lean forward, tunneling my fingers in his hair and place my cheek against his. As I lower myself at an achingly slow pace despite his hands urging me faster, I whisper in his ear, his own words back to him. “Welcome to the big leagues, Ace.”



“Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Yes,” he drolly calls out from the kitchen.

“Because if you can’t, I can whip something up real quick.”

“The image you just brought to my mind of you with a whip, high heels, and nothing else on is exactly what is going to prevent me from getting breakfast done.” His laugh carries outside onto the deck where I sit.

“Okay, I’ll just sit here quietly, enjoy the sun, and leave you with those images while I wait for my food.”

I can hear the carefree note as he laughs again, and it lightens my heart. He seems to have tucked away the earlier nightmare and ensuing incident, but deep down, I know it’s lingering just beneath the surface, always waiting patiently to remind him again of whatever atrocities he endured as a child. Nightmares. Shame. The overriding need for physicality with women. Memories so horrid he vomits with the reappearance of them. I can only hope the causes that flicker through my mind from my past work with other little boys with similar post-traumatic stress symptoms does not hold true for Colton.