Branded as Trouble

Page 37


“Colt. I need…”


“What?”


“You. I need you.”


“You’ve got me.”


His cock, already straining behind his zipper, jerked when India’s hands dropped to his waistband. She unhooked the belt buckle, popped the button and eased down the zipper. Her fingers snaked into his boxers and she circled her hand around him and squeezed.


Colt hissed at the intense pleasure. Feeling the velvety smoothness of her palm on his shaft. The tightness of her grip as she stroked from the base to the wet tip.


“Lift me against the door. You wanted to fuck me so bad, do it.


Like you mean it.”


With her hand commanding his cock he couldn’t remember why this wasn’t the best idea ever…wait. “Condom,” he rasped.


“We don’t have a—”


“So fucking what? You didn’t use a condom last night when you came on my belly. Or in my ass.” India teased his ear with her hot breath. “I want to feel that heat in my cunt. I want to feel your cock sliding and pounding inside me without latex. Your wetness mixed with mine. Just hardness and heat. Just you, Colt.”


Like he could deny her that.


Like you could deny yourself that.


He yanked his jeans below his knees. Then he boosted her up, fighting with the material of her skirt until it bunched at her waist.


“Help me.”


“I am.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled her thong to the side. “I’m ready. Please. Colt. Now.”


Colt bent his knees and drove deep in a single thrust.


India dug her fingernails into his shoulders. “Again. Hard like that again.”


His slow withdrawal only made the hard, fast plunge more rewarding. Again. And again. Over and over.


No kissing. He’d crack her teeth if he put his mouth on hers.


He lived in the moment, the feel of her hot pussy tightening with every stroke. The sharp bite of her nails through his shirt. Her irregular breathing fanning his cheek. The earthy scent of his lover filling his lungs as he filled her body with his.


She drummed her heels into his butt. “Do that little grinding thing. Like that.”


“Come on, India. Come on my cock. Lemme feel those sweet pussy muscles tightening around my dick as you’re comin’ hard.”


He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked, moving her head to where wanted so he could bury his lips in her neck. Nuzzled and licked the hot spot that’d send her into orbit.


“Oh! Yes.” India gasped. Her pelvis canted closer as she arched her lower back and her knees squeezed his hips. “Don’t stop.


Oh God, Colt, please don’t stop.”


Colt didn’t move his mouth. He kept his rhythm uniform, and clenched his ass cheeks as he fought off his own climax. The second her body relaxed, he hammered into her. Losing his mind in the slickness of her pussy, her whimpers burning his ear and how fucking fantastic, how perfect it felt to have his come filling her up.


After the last pulse, he reconnected with her mouth and kissed her with the gentleness his body had lacked.


He kept kissing her. She kept letting him. He tried to convey that being with her was everything. Everything. He loved her with his heart, his soul, his mind, his body. And being half-naked, against his dirt-coated pickup, in the middle of nowhere Wyoming, after he’d fucked her mindless, was just icing on the cake.


India retreated to brush soft kisses over his cheeks, and his temple, his forehead, his eyebrows, his eyelids. All the while her hands stroked his shoulders and his chest and his neck. As if she was trying to convey the same thing to him.


The moment was perfect.


Chapter Twenty


Lulled by the sound of the wheels clacking on the pavement and Colt’s presence beside her, India fell asleep.


The next thing she knew, Colt gently shook her awake. “Hey.


Come on, sleepyhead.”


She blinked and realized they weren’t at Colt’s place but hers.


“I thought we were going to your house?”


“You’re tired and yours was closer.”


“Oh.”


It didn’t appear Colt was going to get out of the truck. Was he sick of her company and just dropping her off?


Or maybe he’s waiting for an invitation.


India laid her head on his arm. “You coming in?”


“Do you want me to?”


“Yes. And I’d like you to spend the night.”


“I’ll have to get up early.”


“I know. I don’t care. I just want you with me.”


He kissed the top of her head and parked.


They held hands as they climbed the stairs. Colt’s quietness was unnerving. Not because he chatted nonstop, but something was wrong.


India led him into her bedroom. She stopped at the side of the bed and faced him. Sliding her arms round his waist, she rested her cheek against his chest.


He sighed and seemed to sag against her.


They embraced for long time.


“You tired?”


“A little. You?”


“Yeah. Maybe we should crawl in bed.”


“Sounds good.” He disentangled himself and stepped back.


“Sit. I’ll help you get your boots off.”


“I’m capable of—”


“I know you are.”


“My feet probably smell.”


“I don’t care. Sit.” She gave him a little push. She grabbed the heel end of his right boot and tugged. It slipped free so fast she lost her balance.


“Maybe you oughta let me do it.”


She tossed the boot by the door. “I’m fine.” Then she grabbed his left heel. The boot slid free easily. “Now that I’ve done the hard part, I’ll let you get the rest.”


Colt shucked his clothes while she did the same. She rolled down the covers and turned off the light. They crawled in their respective sides.


It was all very orderly.


India cuddled up against Colt’s naked back. “You’re warm.


Mmm. It’s like having my own electric blanket.”


“Getting cold at night. Probably need that electric blanket soon.”


Now they were talking about the weather in bed. She waited a minute, but he didn’t draw her into his arms like he did whenever she slept in his bed. She scooted up and placed her chin on his shoulder. “Colt, what’s the matter? And don’t tell me nothing.”


Silence.


“Did I embarrass you at your parents’ house?”


“No. Why would you think that?”


“You aren’t going to try and pretend you’re acting normal right now?”


“And fuckin’ you up against my truck in the middle of the goddamn road is normal?”


“Is that what this is about?”


“Yeah. Jesus, India, I ripped your damn shirt. I pulled your hair, for Christsake. How can you even want me next to you?”


“Knock it off, McKay. I could’ve said no at any point and you would’ve stopped. Don’t you doubt for a second that I didn’t enjoy every second.” She put her mouth next to his ear. “And you told me you hated that shirt anyway, so no big loss.”


He laughed softly.


She moved so she could roll him on his back. She brushed the hair from his forehead. “I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if I didn’t want you here next to me.”


“Why?”


Because I love you. Now was not the time for that confession.


“I’ve been so rough with you. Last night. And now tonight.”


Colt angled his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “You deserve…”


When he didn’t finish, India said, “What?”


“Tenderness.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can give you passion, but I’ve never given you…”


He had given her softness and gentleness; he just hadn’t realized that’s what it was. But here was the opportunity she’d wanted to show him her softer side. “Then let me give you tenderness, Colt.”


His eyes flew open.


“Let me give you sweetness. Let me make love to you.” Let me show you how much I love you, Colt McKay.


“Indy—”


“Please.” She traced the outline of his jaw. “If you hate it, I promise I’ll let you fuck me as hard and raw as you want.”


He managed a smile.


India threw a leg over his hip and straddled his belly. She reached up and knocked the pillows to the floor. “There. Now I have room to work.” She set her hands by his head on the mattress.


“Close your eyes.”


He did.


She pressed a soft kiss on his lips. And another. And another, until there was no break and they were kissing nonstop. Not frantically, unhurriedly. She eased back, latching onto his wrists and moved his arms up above his head so she could run her fingers across the muscles of his biceps, triceps, and forearms. Touching him, feeling his cock jerk against her butt made her all the more determined to go slow.


India slid her lips down, flicking her tongue over the sexy dimple in his chin, trailing openmouthed kisses over his neck, past the hollow of his throat, between his pecs. She let her mouth follow the curve until the pebbled nipple brushed her lips.


Colt hissed.


“Mmm,” she said, lapping at the flat disk. She blew across the wetness and worried the pointed tip between her teeth. She switched back and forth between the two nipples until his upper body arched into her from the attention.


“I hope you’re not spending so much time licking and kissing me there because you’re secretly measuring me for a tattoo?”


Her chuckle against that sensitive flesh brought another groan from him.


“You have nice nipples.”


“Yeah? What makes them nice?”


“Big. Round.” India’s tongue drew a full circle. “Not much hair. A pretty color. Brownish-red, but not too much red.”


“I can’t believe I’m askin’ this, but nipple color matters?”


“Of course. Some guys’ nipples are ugly. They’re too small or centered weird on their chest. Or eww, they’re buried beneath too much chest hair. Yours—” she watched his eyes as she tongued the tip, “—are perfect.”

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