We hop into Colt’s car and he won’t tell me where we’re going. As we pull into Ashley Grove though, I get this sick sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Is he driving me home? Is he going to fire me and drop me off?

Did I finally ruin us?

What is it with me and self-sabotage, dammit?

We pass my building and he doesn’t even slow down, he just keeps driving. He’s taking us deeper and deeper into the neighborhood. Even I rarely, if ever, go this far.

We pass groups of guys just hanging out on the corners, or just walking the crumbling sidewalks. I swear we pass one guy like five different times. Don’t they have anything better to do than just walk around? Couldn’t they at least stop and pick up some of the trash?

Finally, we pull up in front of building that looks a lot like mine—if it was left to rot for twenty years. Colt throws the car into park and then he hops out.

As soon as he pulls open my door for me, I ask him nervously, “What are we doing here?”

“There’s something I want to show you.”

I glance around nervously as he takes me by the arm, leading us up the front walk. I just can’t understand why we’re here. Is this some kind of setup? How does he even know about his place? Just looking around, at all the deterioration, at all the filth, it’s obvious the world let this place go a long time ago. There’s nothing good left here.

The place is so eerie, so abandoned, I hope with all my heart he doesn’t have a stash of bodies hidden in the basement and I’m about to join the pile.

“Colt,” I protest as he opens the front door. It’s pitch dark in there. There’s no way in hell…

“What? You don’t want to go in?” he asks, though he doesn’t sound the least bit surprised by my reluctance.

I bite my lip and slowly shake my head.

He drops my hand and steps back. “You don’t want to see where I grew up? I could show you my old room.”

“You grew up here?!” I gasp.

“Yes.” He lets go of the door and it creaks to a slow shut. “Does that surprise you?”

“Yes,” it surprises me. I assumed by all that he has, by all that he is, that he grew up if not privileged then very well-to-do.

“I lived here all of my childhood with my father, up until I shipped off to college.”

I’m speechless. Literally. I have no words.

“I haven’t been back here, either… it’s been about ten years now.” He turns away from the building, giving it his back. “There’s too many bad memories, but I wanted to show you.”

I take a step forward, reaching for him. There’s such a forlorn look on his face that it breaks my fucking heart. He lets me grab him, he lets me wrap my arms around him.

Whatever happened here must have been bad. He’s never spoken of it, never hinted of it. Sure, he’s talked about playing football in high school and then college, but he’s had plenty of chances to tell me he grew up here—and he didn’t.

“Colt,” I choke up, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. He lived here? Did he grow up worse than me? Is he ashamed of it? I never would have guessed; I never would have known—I just assumed. All this time I’ve thought we were so different.

“Fuck,” he rasps, leaning forward and burying his face into my hair. “I was hoping it wouldn’t affect me after all these damn years. But I’ve never come back, until now.”

I can feel his heart racing, he’s pressed against me so hard.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur into his ear. I still don’t know what his story is but, “I’m here for you.”

---

After we hear a loud bang in the distance, we decide it’s best to head back to the car. We haven’t eaten lunch yet, but I don’t think either of us has the stomach for food at the moment. When Colt asks me what I want to do, I tell him I want to know his story.

So he drives us up to his apartment.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I ask as his front door shuts behind us. “You knew where Ashley Grove was because you grew up there.”

“It’s not something I like to talk about,” he answers while grabbing me by the hips and pulling me into him. He reaches up, brushing my hair back and tipping my chin up.

“So why now?”

His knuckles brush tenderly across my cheek. “Because I want to prove to you that you and I are not so different.”

“Colt…”

“And it’s not just about being poor, dammit. We’ve both been abandoned; both been left to sink or swim. And just like me, you’ve learned to swim the fucking hard way, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but…”

He takes a step forward, forcing me to take a step back. “You never knew your father, well I knew mine and he was a mean asshole.”

I press my lips together, feeling the heat of his glare upon them. “My father was a drunk who beat me nightly after my mom walked out when I was five years old. According to him, it was my fault she left. It couldn’t have possibly been because he was a drunk, worthless piece of shit who couldn’t hold a job.”

“I’m sorry,” I gasp and reach for him, trying to pull his face down to mine for a kiss but he shakes me off.

“During the day, he was gone, doing God only knows what, and I was left to fend for myself. I avoided stealing for my supper by relying mostly on the kindness of my neighbors. But when that kindness wasn’t there, I pretty much starved.”

Fucking hell.

“I can’t even count how many nights I just wished he would never come home. That the cops would show up telling me that they found him in a ditch somewhere. But the man was resilient—the mean ones always are. He always made it home. He beat me until I was bigger and stronger, and then the fucker was suddenly proud of me when I became the big football star. He was at every fucking game, sober, and cheering me on.”

His eyes close and his jaw clenches. “Then I got hurt during my third year of college, and in his eyes I was worthless again. That worthless fucker disowned me. Me. So fuck football. I became an agent.”

Colt’s eyes snap open, and I just want to tell him how sorry I am, over and over again. But it’s not enough, and I can tell that’s not what he wants, what he needs. He just needs me to listen, to understand. To relate to him. So I ask, “It hurt you even though you hated him?”

His lips pull back in a snarl and his hands grab at my blouse, tearing it open.

Maybe that was the wrong question to ask.

“Yes, it fucking hurt,” he growls as his hands paw at my breasts. “He was the only family I had left, and he walked away from me.”

“I feel the same way about my mother.”

“I know, baby,” he sighs. “I know.” His hands gentle and then he just picks me up, as if I weigh nothing, and throws me over his shoulder.

“Colt,” I screech, and he gives me a slap on the butt.

Why does he always have to do this?

He carries me, caveman style, into his bedroom, and then drops me down to the bed. I try to sit up but he comes down on top of me, using his weight to pin me flat.

“Do you remember that in this bed there are no secrets?” he asks, rising above me. “That nothing comes between us? This is our safe place.”

Tentatively, I nod my head.

“Good, because I want you to be honest with me. I’m being honest with you. Can you do that?”

My voice comes out breathless, “Yes.”

Colt pulls back until he’s kneeling with me still stuck underneath him, trapped between his thighs. He begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves as he tells me, “The moment I first laid eyes on you in that strip club I knew you were mine.”

His fingers lift to unbutton the buttons at his throat. “I know it sounds corny as fuck, but I just knew you were the one. The only thing is I couldn’t figure the fuck out what you were even doing there.”

The crisp fabric of his white shirt parts as his fingers quickly and deftly push through the buttons. I feel my heart racing in my chest, filled with excitement and confusion as he reveals his true feelings for me. “You know as well that you didn’t belong there, and once I got more of your story out of you it made much more sense. Just like me you were working hard to survive, but unlike me, you had two brothers to take care of on your own.”

I’m panting now as he undoes the last button, filled with this incredibly intense emotion that steals my breath. What is he telling me? Does Colt Jackson love me? He couldn’t…he shouldn’t…

I’m not worthy of this magnificent man.

Rolling his shoulders, he tugs the sleeves off of his arms until he’s shirtless. “Yet you still don’t realize you were mine the moment I laid eyes upon you, and I’d do anything to have you, even if I had to pay for you.”

His hands grab the front of my bra, latching on to the thin strip of fabric that holds my cups together. “To you, falling in love is a weakness.” He yanks hard, popping my bra open. “To me it’s my strength. You make me stronger, wiser, and better.”

I don’t even try to fight him as he grabs both of my hands, trapping them in one of his. I’m mesmerized by his actions, by his declarations.

Is this really happening?

“It’s cliché as hell, but you make me a better man.”

His knees slide back as he lowers his torso back down. He begins to kiss a hot, wet trail down my chest, nudging his way into the space between my breasts. “Everything I have is yours. You don’t even have to marry me for it, you can have all of it. I want to take care of you. I need you with me. I need you near me. We’re not only soul mates, we’re kindred spirits.”

“Colt,” I protest, arching my back and struggling against his grip on my wrists. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you for your things, or for your money.”

His kisses pause and he huffs out hotly, “But you want me?”

I have to swallow before answering honestly. “Yes, I want you.”

How could I not want him?

“But you don’t trust me,” he growls, his teeth scraping down my stomach.

I wish I could argue that point but I can’t because he’s right. I still don’t trust him. I’m still afraid he’s going to hurt me.

“Why? Why won’t you trust me? Have I not given you enough time? Enough security? What do you need from me, Whitney? What is holding you back?”

“I don’t know,” I grumble, squirming beneath the questions. Why can’t he just let it go? Why does he keep forcing me to give more of myself to him?

He pushes back up, his head rising above my head. “Look at me,” he growls as I try to turn my face away. “Look at me,” he demands as his fingers wrap around my chin, forcing me to do it. I want to fight it; I want to continue hiding it. “What is it? Don’t lie to me.”

I don’t know, I want to say, but he just told me not to lie. Honestly, I think I’ve known for a while now what the problem is, I just haven’t been able to accept it.

I stare into his eyes, feeling him see me, truly seeing me.

“Why are you so afraid of me?” he frowns. “Why?” Pressing my lips together, I remain silent, and he snaps, “Tell me, dammit!”

There’s so much pleading in his eyes, so much need to understand, and I know by not telling him the truth I’m just hurting him. The last fucking thing I want to do is hurt this wonderful, beautiful man. He’s given me so much, done so much for me, and what has he asked in return? Only that I be honest with him.

I’m so tired of fighting it, so tired of denying it.

It’s time I owned this.

I close my eyes and it feels like letting go, like falling off the edge as I admit softly, “I think I love you.”

He’s quiet for a long time before I work up the nerve to open my eyes and peek up at him.

“You love me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He stares down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing in the world. Like his arms are wide open to catch me.

“Yes,” I nod my head and feel tears stinging my eyes. “I love you, and it fucking terrifies me.”

The corners of his lips quirk up and his own eyes glisten a little bit. I’m glad one of us is finding amusement in this. I’m so twisted up with emotion I feel like I’m about to be sick.

He leans down and his lips brush against mine in a soft, caressing kiss. “That’s the way love is supposed to feel. And I should know, I’ve been fucking terrified for months now.”

“You have?”

“Yes,” he nods and then his lips brush against mine again, easing my uneasiness. The more he kisses me, the safer I feel opening up for him. “I’ve known I love you for months now. I fucking love you, Whitney, and I swear on all that I am I will never hurt you.”

To finally have the words out there, to finally admit what I’ve been denying is such a huge weight off of me. Such a huge relief. And to know he loves me too. To know that Colton Jackson loves me.

Me.

It’s amazing. There’s no other way to describe it—it’s just fucking amazing.

I was falling but now I’m soaring.

“Everything I am, everything I have, it’s yours. All I need is you,” he continues.

“Colt,” I groan, arching up, my mouth seeking his. He loosens his grip a little, allowing me to move as he meets me halfway in the middle.

I don’t know how long we kiss, I just know that it will never be long enough. He drags his lips away from mine and nuzzles his nose against mine. We’re just breathing each other in.

“You will never hurt me?” I ask him softly, needing to hear it again.

“Never,” he says so fiercely, so adamantly, I feel my heart finally surrender.

I’m his. Every tingling, throbbing part of me belongs to him.

Once more I feel tears sting my eyes. I’ve never had someone to protect me, besides my little brothers, it’s always been me, on my own. Parents? Ha. What parents? What family? To have someone else to lean on, to have someone who wants nothing from me but for me to be me…

“Is this a dream?” I whisper hoarsely, fighting against the tears.

For once I no longer feel like I’m alone in the world. For once I have someone to turn to.

I have Colton Jackson.

Colt rolls his hips, grinding his hard erection into me. “I can assure you this is very much real.”

One tear escapes, and before I can stop it, another quickly follows. “You’re giving me so much. I don’t have much to give you.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Colt growls. “All I need is you.”

“But it’s not enough,” I argue.

Colt shakes his head and his hand tightens on my wrists. “I never want to hear you say that again. Understand?”

I lower my lashes and look away from him. I’m flushing with heat and buzzing with emotion.

“I’m serious,” he insists, grinding into me again with a smooth roll of his hips while nudging my chin with his nose until I’m looking back at him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. When you do, you’re insulting me.”

“I’m sorry,” I sigh not necessarily agreeing with him but not wishing to have an argument after everything we just shared. “Here,” I roll my hips back, rubbing myself against him. “Let me make it up to you.”

Colt groans deep in his throat, pressing his body down. Letting all his weight drop onto me. “Fuck, I love you. I need to be inside you.”

“Please,” I pant, feeling the strongest need to be joined and connected with him. I can’t help myself, I can’t stop myself from rolling my hips, from rubbing my throbbing sex against him. I need relief, I need some kind of stimulation. “I want to feel all of your skin touching my skin.”

With a guttural groan, Colt pushes off of me and practically rips down his pants. I hear stitches popping and fabric ripping. Then he’s tearing off the remains of my skirt and blouse until I’m completely naked.

“You are so beautiful. So fucking exquisite,” he says, his gaze scorching over me with desire, lingering on the rising and falling peaks of my breasts. I’ve never felt more beautiful the way he looks at me. He looks at me as if I’m perfect.

He lowers back down, completely covering me with the size of his body. I feel so small, shadowed beneath him. He could snap me like a twig.

“Open for me, love,” he requests, his knees nudging at my knees.

I suck in a sharp breath as I spread my legs and the tip of his cock meets my soaked lips.

Colt curses and stiffens. I can feel the muscles in his thighs flexing against mine as he tells me, “You’re so damn wet.”

I arch up, writhing beneath him and rocking my hips so that his cock slides through my lips. “You’re so damn big.”

Colt curses and I can hear his teeth grinding together as his jaw clenches. “Don’t tease me, dammit. I won’t be able to hold back.”

He didn’t let me hold anything back…

“Don’t you hold out on me,” I narrow my eyes up at him and lift my butt off the bed. “I want all you.”

“Fuck,” he growls as he slowly begins to sink his length into me.

“All of you, Colt,” I sigh, arching up. “All of you, my love.”

“I love you,” he rasps, filling me up with every velvety inch.

He just holds himself there, seemingly content to stay like this. I can’t take it anymore. I squirm but he doesn’t get the hint. I’m throbbing, my walls are pulsing. I wrap my legs around his hips and dig my heels into his ass.

“Colt,” I whine. “I love you. Please… you’re torturing me.”

“You just feel so good. So warm, so tight… so damn wet.”

My fingers flex when he still doesn’t move, my nails trying to find purchase on his restraining hand. “Colt!”

Finally, he moves. Pulling back his hips, sliding out of me until I flex my thighs, trying to bring him back in. “Whose body is this?”

Fuck. Is he seriously going to do this?

He pulls almost all the way out, until I’m left with just the tip.

“Whose?” he demands more forcibly as I just pant up at him.

“Yours,” I answer.

“And don’t you fucking forget it,” he grunts as he slams himself back in.

The sensation is so sudden, so sharp, I cry out with my head falling back.

He pulls back out just as fast, and before I have time to process what is happening, he’s slamming into me over and over again.

“You’re mine. Mine, dammit,” he grunts and huffs between his thrusts, aiming his hips in such a way that he keeps connecting with my clit. Sending me quickly spiraling towards my orgasm.

“I’m yours, yours,” I moan in encouragement, and he just seems to snap. His hand releases my hands, and then he’s grabbing me by the back of the head.

He stares into my eyes with his fingers curling in my hair, ensuring I don’t look away from him as his cock pounds me into oblivion.

“I love you,” he professes with such honesty, with such vulnerability in his baby blue eyes, my body trembles with the first hint of my orgasm.

“I love you too,” I cry out as I explode. My world flooded with intense sensation and warmth.

Colors dance in front of my eyes as my muscles lock up, but through the haze I can still see him. All of me is connected to him. We are one. Two pieces that were always meant to fit.

Above me Colt jerks with a grimace, losing his rhythm. I can feel him swelling up inside me as my walls milk and squeeze him. He was already big, but now he’s filling me up to the point where I’m afraid I might burst.

“God,” he groans with a shudder, and collapses on top of me. Spent.

He’s heavy but there’s something about the weight of him. It feels good, and too right. Somehow I don’t feel squished.

“Are you okay?” he asks after we catch our breath.

I still haven’t found my voice yet so I just smile and nod my head.

He doesn’t appear to be convinced. With a frown, he wraps his arms around me and takes me with him as he rolls onto his back.

“Mmm, that’s better,” he murmurs softly.

He strokes my hair tenderly and I feel myself begin to drift off as I snuggle up to his chest.

I love this man. Oh, how I love this man. It feels so silly now that I tried for so long fight it. I can’t believe I almost missed out on this.

“Whoever compared an orgasm to dying was an idiot.”

It takes a couple of minutes for his words to finally sink in.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at me with a grin. “Losing myself inside of you is the best damn moment I’ve ever lived.