Surrender To Sultry (17 page)

“Go ahead and change,” he said, “but don’t come out yet. I’ll be in the living room.
Knock when you’re done, and I’ll come get you.” Without giving her a chance to ask
if he was serious, he left and pulled the door shut behind him.

Apparently, he was serious.

She stared at the dress for a while, unsure of what to do. But then she remembered
her promise to Colt—no distractions, no self-doubt—and she began unbuttoning her sweater.
Once she’d undressed, she folded her clothes and placed them on top of the dresser,
tucking her bra beneath the pile. She stepped into the gown and slid the spaghetti
straps up the length of her arms, then zipped the back halfway, which was as high
as she could reach on her own. After sitting on the bed to fasten her new sandals,
she stood in front of Colt’s mirror and finger combed her hair. Maybe the dress didn’t
look so ridiculous after all. She liked the way it flared out from the waist, and
the shoes complimented it perfectly. Giving herself a small smile, she fluffed her
skirts and straightened her bodice.

On slightly wobbly heels, she clicked across the hardwood floor to the bedroom entrance
and knocked three times to let Colt know she’d finished changing.

When he appeared at the door, she noticed he’d smoothed his ponytail and pinned a
single red rosebud to his lapel. A brilliant grin curved his lips while he studied
her. He held up a corsage brimming with roses and baby’s breath and motioned for her
hand. “You still need one of these.”

“I need help with my zipper too,” she said, holding her wrist out to him.

He slipped on the corsage, but instead of circling behind her to fasten her dress,
he closed the distance between them, embracing her while lifting the zipper one slow
inch at a time. Once he’d completed the task, he brushed her hair aside and whispered,
“This is exactly how I imagined you’d look. You’re the prettiest girl in Texas.”

The tickle of his breath in her ear made her shiver, and she unconsciously bared her
neck to him. But instead of taking things farther, he placed her hand on his forearm
like a true gentleman.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and he led her into the living room, where she stopped short at the threshold,
her eyes widening in surprise. If discovering her prom dress in Colt’s bedroom measured
an eight on the Shock Scale, what he’d done in the living room rated a twenty.

A wide banner hanging across the foyer promised
A
Night
to
Remember
, while crepe paper streamers crisscrossed the room and led to clusters of gray and
white helium balloons in each of the room’s four corners. A scattering of candles
provided the only light, reflected in tinfoil stars Colt had affixed to the ceiling
and walls, their twinkling glow a mirror image of the flickering flames below. He’d
situated a small round table near the wall, draped in white linen and set with two
covered dishes, champagne glasses, a basket of sliced French bread, and a small plate
of olive oil for dipping. If that weren’t impressive enough, he’d fashioned a photo
station in the far corner, using a tripod with tall potted plants for the backdrop.

She couldn’t believe it. He must have worked on this all day.

“Colt,” she breathed in awe. “It’s amazing.”

He wasted no time ushering her across the room. “First things first,” he said. “We
need our picture taken.”

“Absolutely.” She slipped right into character, giddy with excitement. “Before we
start dancing and get all hot and sweaty.”

“That’s right.”

He pushed a button on the digital camera, and they rushed into the corner to assume
the standard prom pose: Colt standing behind her with his hands resting lightly on
her waist, her hands atop his. When the timer beeped, Leah lifted her chin and smiled
more widely than she had in months. The camera flashed, and she blinked to restore
her sight while Colt jogged around to check the LCD panel. He nodded in satisfaction
and motioned for her to sit at the table.

After she took her seat, he helped scoot her chair forward, then filled their glasses
with sparkling punch and joined her.

He raised his champagne flute and toasted, “Here’s to getting it right the second
time.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

They clinked glasses and took a sip, and then Colt reached over and removed the silver
trays covering both their meals. At once, savory steam wafted up from her plate of
grilled chicken, scalloped potatoes, and green beans. Her mouth watered in response.

“I can’t compete with you in the kitchen,” he said, “but I did my best.”

“CJ, this is too much.” She gazed around the room at the magical transformation. No
one had ever put so much time and effort into a date with her. “I don’t deserve all
this.”

When she faced him again, it was to find him watching her with amusement dancing behind
his sea-blue eyes. The candlelight cast shadows beneath his strong cheekbones and
full lips, sharpening the masculine angles of his face until she almost couldn’t look
at him. He was so handsome it hurt.

“You called me CJ,” he said.

Heat flushed her cheeks, forcing her to glance down at her plate. “This means a lot
to me.”

“This is just as much for me as it is for you.” He pointed his fork at her. “And don’t
forget our agreement. You better not go sad on me.”

“Not a chance.”

She cut into her chicken and began eating, Colt following suit. He’d underestimated
his cooking skills, and she told him so with nearly every bite. They spent the next
half hour dining and talking, laughing and remembering when. She couldn’t recall the
last time she’d had so much fun. After they finished their meal, Colt reached beneath
the table and produced a small white bakery box. She already knew what was inside,
and he confirmed it by lifting the lid. A single Richman’s éclair rested atop a white
paper doily.

“I was hoping we could share it,” Colt said, watching intently for her reaction.

Leah faced her enemy, unafraid. “Fine. But I want the bigger half.”

He quickly wiped his knife clean, probably afraid she’d change her mind, then cut
the pastry in two and handed her an ever-so-slightly larger piece. Once again, he
proposed a toast. “To living in the moment.”

“
And
enjoying the sweetness in life,” she added before tapping his half and sinking into
hers. That first bite rocked her taste buds in a burst of chocolaty flavor and cool
crème that had her toes curling inside her strappy sandals. She finished the rest
in tiny nibbles, savoring each morsel while Colt gobbled his and licked his fingers
clean. God bless, it was so good. She wanted another.

“Now that we’ve had dessert,” Colt said, pulling two slips of paper and a pencil from
his inside breast pocket, “it’s time to vote for king and queen.”

She laughed and motioned for the pencil. “I hope we win.”

“Me too.” He handed over a sheet. “Nobody here deserves it more than us.”

They scribbled their votes and Colt read the results. “We win by a landslide!” He
pumped his fist into the air while Leah clapped her hands and cheered. She played
along with the ruse, but didn’t expect him to leave the room and return with a two-tiered
rhinestone tiara fit for an empress.

“Colt!” she chided. This
really
was too much.

Taking her hand, he led her to the “dance floor” in the middle of the living room
and settled the crown atop her head. “Now, don’t fuss at me. It was no big deal. I
saw it in a Halloween clearance bin, and picked it up for next to nothing.”

He was such a liar. A considerate, loveable liar.

“Then where’s your crown?” she asked, automatically linking her fingers behind his
neck for a dance.

He drew her close and took her waist between his large palms. “Honey, no self-respecting
lawman wears a crown.”

“Is that so?”

“Common knowledge. Besides, I already feel like a king.” He pressed a finger to her
lips. “No more arguing. I’ve been waiting ten years for this dance, and I mean to
enjoy it.”

She didn’t object—she’d waited a long time for this too. Instead, she rested her cheek
on Colt’s chest as they swayed to the slow, sensual rhythm of “I Wanna Make You Close
Your Eyes” by Dierks Bentley. By the time the song ended, she’d eliminated any sliver
of space between them in a compulsion to get closer.

Colt didn’t release her. He held on tighter than before, continuing their lazy sway
while he waited for the next song to play. When a man’s voice crooned from the speakers,
promising
there’s no gettin’ over me
, Leah couldn’t help hearing her own story reflected in the lyrics. No matter how
fast or far she’d run, she’d never escaped Colt’s hold on her. She’d never gotten
over him, and she doubted she ever would. This man was it for her—she loved him. A
shiver of fear chilled her bones, reminding her she might lose him tomorrow, but she
staved it off by burrowing her face deeper into his chest and pulling in his warm,
woodsy scent.

Colt rested his cheek atop her head and caressed the exposed skin on her shoulders.
In the gentle glow of starlight and flickering flames, they danced through song after
song, clinging to each other with an urgency that charged the air. The prom night
Colt had recreated easily trumped the one they’d missed. When Leah lifted her face
to tell him so, he took her cheek in one hand and met her halfway with a soft kiss.
It caught her off guard, but she didn’t hesitate to open to him, encouraging his seeking
tongue with the tip of her own.

Time got lost as they shared easy kisses, tentatively tasting and exploring, the music
forgotten until they were no longer dancing but trying to complete one another. Her
hips sought his and found him swelling with desire. A low groan rumbled from his throat
while his hands slid down over her back and settled on her bottom. Matching his need,
she ran her palms over the contours of his steely chest, eager to feel his burning
skin against hers. Colt broke the kiss and moved to her neck, where he brushed his
way to her ear. When he took her lobe between his teeth, she pushed lightly against
his shoulder and asked him to stop.

Colt drew back, his breathing erratic. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong. The night was flawless and she didn’t want it to end. Leah knew
with complete certainty what—and who—she needed. She cupped the smooth edge of his
jaw and said, “I’m telling you right now, before you get me worked up and say I don’t
know my own mind, that I’m ready.”

He swallowed hard, shifting his Adam’s apple, the question clear in his eyes.

“I’m sure,” she said. “I want you.” When he didn’t respond, she pointed between them.
“We can dance all night, but it’s never going to be close enough. I need to feel your
skin against every part of me.” She delivered a solemn look, an unspoken vow to love
him as long as he’d let her. “I’m ready, CJ. Let me show you how much.”

Apparently, Colt didn’t need further convincing. His lips moved against hers in a
hot slide that sent her pulse rushing straight between her thighs. She barely had
time to catch her breath before his thumbs pressed down on her jaw, opening her for
his thrusting tongue. Now that she’d given him the green light, he consumed her with
a pure passion that burned her all over. Once he’d had his fill, he swept her hair
aside and made love to the sensitive spot at the top of her shoulder.

“Oh, Lord.” Leah’s head fell back, knees went slack. She whispered, “Take me to bed,
Colt.”

When he gazed down at her, his lips were swollen and slick, his eyelids half closed
with lust. In a thick voice, he promised, “Don’t worry, I will.” He tugged his bowtie
free and tossed it to the floor, then worked the top buttons on his collar. “But not
yet. You don’t have to be home till midnight, Angel. We’re just gettin’ started.”

After shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket, he took her wrist and led her to the dinner
table. He lowered to a chair and turned her around, then pulled her onto his lap so
his burgeoning erection pressed against her backside. She gyrated against him, but
he halted her movements and gathered her hair to one side. With teasing fingers, he
pushed down each of her gown straps and unzipped her bodice so slowly she had to grip
her knees to keep from finishing the job for him. He peeled apart the satiny panels
and kissed a meandering trail from the middle of her back to her shoulder, where he
scraped his teeth along the same spot he’d suckled moments earlier. Just when she
began squirming with desire, he shoved the dress to her waist and pulled her back
against his chest.

He cupped her breasts in his rough hands while she rested her head on his shoulder,
letting her eyes flutter closed, arching her spine for a stronger touch.

“Has anyone ever made you come like this?” he asked, using his thumbs to brush her
nipples. “Just from touching you here?”

She shook her head.

That seemed to please him. He nuzzled her ear and whispered, “
I
will
.”

He removed one hand and reached across the table, and she opened her eyes in time
to see him dip his index finger into the dish of olive oil. Balancing the bead of
oil on his fingertip, he brought it to her breast and worked it lightly into one nipple,
the warm, thick liquid dripping a trail down her skin. Then he did the same on the
other side. With slippery fingers, he took hold and massaged her, softly at first,
his grip tightening by degrees until he’d brought her nipples to stiff points. She
sighed with pleasure, her breasts growing full beneath his skilled hands. The gliding
pinch and pull felt exactly like the wet suction of his mouth. It was more erotic
than she’d ever imagined.

She rocked her hips for friction, finding none. A heavy ache blossomed low in her
belly with each firm tug of his fingers, and after a few short minutes, she couldn’t
take it anymore. She needed to feel something solid against her throbbing flesh. She
brought her hand to the taffeta skirts bunched between her legs, but Colt snatched
her arm before she made contact.

“Unh-uh,” he murmured. “You can look, but you can’t touch.” When she objected, he
tugged her wrists behind her back.

“Colt, please…”

He didn’t relent. “Don’t make me get my cuffs.”

He released her, and she clutched two fistfuls of fabric to keep from touching herself
as Colt resumed rolling her slick nipples harder and faster than before. He whispered
all the wicked things he’d do to her next, swearing he’d make her come so many times
she wouldn’t remember how to walk by the end of the night. If that was his goal, he
was off to a good start. Her breath came in shallow gasps, the growing pressure forcing
her to squirm on his lap, her legs widening of their own volition. And then, just
when she didn’t think she could stand another second of torture, Colt twisted his
wet fingers again, and the ache broke into ecstasy.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and felt her core pulsing in waves of release.
She stiffened against him and rode the pleasure, unable to believe what he’d just
done. Colt had brought her to orgasm without touching her below the waist. That had
to be some kind of superpower.

While she fought for air, he pushed her dress down over her hips. Still too weak to
stand, she shifted on his lap to shed her gown. Her tiara tumbled to the floor with
it.

“Lose the panties,” he ordered. “But keep the shoes.”

She did as he asked and settled back against him, naked except for her stilettos.
She expected him to let her recover and then lead her into the bedroom, but instead,
he pushed aside his dinner plate and situated her right leg on the tabletop. He used
his knee to spread her left leg open so she lay exposed on his lap.

“No, I can’t,” she said, closing her legs an inch. “Just give me a minute.”

He tipped her head aside and kissed her neck while he slid one hand along her inner
thigh, pausing when he reached her soft center. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then relax and let me touch you. I know what you need.” To prove it, he dipped the
pad of one finger inside and spread warm lubrication over her swollen flesh, sparking
her to life and coaxing a moan from her lips. He was right. She wanted to feel him
there. He stroked her long and slow until she arched back and pushed her knees farther
apart in a silent plea for more. With a teasing whisper, he stilled his movements
and asked, “You want me to stop?”

She didn’t want him to stop and he knew it. But she’d submit to him if it meant more
of the delicious pressure he was building within her. “No. Please don’t stop.”

At her assent, he took her stiff bud between two fingers and slid them up and down
in a wet caress that had her gasping aloud. He shifted slightly to peer over her shoulder
at his own talented fingers.

“I love seeing you like this,” he breathed into her ear. “Wide open for me.” With
his middle finger, he slid barely inside and out again, then spread glistening moisture
along her folds. “And so wet. God, honey, look how wet you are.” She watched with
him. Even in the dim glow of candlelight, she could see the dampness that matted her
blond curls. “I love seeing how much you want me,” he repeated.

“I do,” she said, reaching behind her to lock her arms around his neck. “I want you
right now.”

“Soon.” He brought his other hand between her thighs to work her in tandem. “You need
to come for me again. When I take you to bed, you’re gonna be slippery as sin.”

She wanted to tell him she was already there, but he massaged her entrance with his
middle finger while thumbing circles around her tender flesh, and she couldn’t speak
over the sound of her own moaning. He used shallow penetration to toy with her, pulling
back when she strained her hips forward to take him deeper. No matter how often she
begged, he refused to fill her.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he said, adding a second finger but lingering at
the base of her femininity. “I’m gonna ease in real slow…” He gave her a precious
inch before sliding out again. “Like this.” He did it again, pumping her with nothing
but his fingertips. “Then a little deeper…” He gave another inch, then pulled back.
Groaning and incoherent with need, she clenched her fists and heaved against his hand.
“And a little deeper.” The erotic pressure was about to burst—she was so close. If
he’d only go in farther… He ground his erection against her bottom, his rigid control
clearly beginning to slip. “Until I’m all the way in.”

With that, he pushed fully inside her as her inner walls clenched around him. She
cried out and stiffened with pleasure, her muscles squeezing his pumping fingers so
hard she feared it might split her in half. The sweet spasms went on and on until
her legs trembled, and once the surge crested, she knew Colt was right. By the time
this night was over, she wouldn’t be able to walk a straight line.

She collapsed against him, still tingling with satisfaction and unable to lift her
limbs. “CJ,” she began weakly. “No more.”

“Shh. Stay with me a little longer.”

He gathered her limp body and carried her to his bedroom, then laid her down on the
cool comforter and stepped back to undress. A sliver of moonlight escaped the window
shade and cut across Colt’s face as he stood at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his
cuffs and watching her with savage hunger. Ready or not, he would have her. But the
anticipation of his solid weight, his smooth, burning skin covering every inch of
hers, his thick length filling her to bursting, sent new moisture between her thighs.
She already wanted him again. He really did have superpowers.

His gaze never left hers as he pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. In the
darkness, she admired the shadows of muscle flexing along his broad shoulders and
beneath the russet skin of his forearms. He worked the button on his pants and shucked
them to the floor along with his briefs, freeing his rigid shaft. While he kicked
off his shoes, she admired his powerful body, the lean outline of his thighs and the
hard curve of his backside, where he’d inked a tattoo in her honor. She lowered her
gaze to his erection, eager to wrap her palm around his smooth, tight skin and take
him inside her.

Once he’d stripped down, he joined her on the mattress and knelt between her parted
thighs. He swept a lingering gaze over her body and shook his head in wonder. “I could
look at you forever and never have my fill.”

Out of habit, she covered the low scar on her belly. The motion drew his attention
to the silvery line, and he pulled one of her hands free and pressed it to a stretch
of marred flesh on his abdomen.

“I’ve got one there too.” He released her, and she ran her fingers through his inky-black
hair. “We match.”

He lowered to kiss her scar, and once there, he continued downward and told her to
spread wider for him. When she obeyed, he drew her into his mouth with a warm pull
of suction that sent a shiver down the length of her legs and curled her toes. The
sensation multiplied with each taunting suckle, but despite the exquisite pleasure,
she wriggled free and tugged on his shoulder. She wanted to feel him close—as close
as they could get.

“Come here,” she whispered. “I need you.”

He pinned her hips to the bed and kissed the insides of her thighs. “Not yet. I wanna
make you come again.”

She pushed to her elbows and used her heels to scoot toward the headboard, her cheeks
growing hot. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

She couldn’t help snapping at him. “I don’t want you to make me come—I want you to
make love to me.” If she didn’t know better, she’d think an oversized check awaited
Colt in the living room, the grand prize for giving her the most orgasms by midnight.
“Do you know the difference?”

A flicker of pain widened his eyes. “Of course I do.” He stretched out beside her
and brushed the hair back from her face. “I’ve only made love to one woman in my life,
and that’s you.”

“Then why won’t you love me now?”

His lips parted in shock. “That’s what I’ve been doing this whole time—trying to make
you feel good. Trying to make you forget the—”

He cut off, but she suspected his next word would have been
doctor
. He’d mentioned Ari the last time they were intimate too, telling her to remember
who made her feel this hot. It was like Colt had something to prove—that if he couldn’t
be the better man, at least he could surpass Ari as the better lover.

Leah gasped and turned to Colt. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before. He
thought she cared for another man.

Guilt swam up inside her. No wonder he’d worked all day to create this magical experience—he
was trying to win her back from an imaginary rival. “Colt, you don’t need to make
me forget anyone.” She stroked his chest and repeated the words he’d told her when
they were young, back when she’d struggled with her own insecurities. “There’s only
you.”

His lips lifted in a grin, but his eyes were still cautious. “You mean that?”

“It’s always been you.” She wrapped one leg around his waist and rolled him on top
of her. “I want to feel you inside me. Nothing else matters, and no one else exists.
Just love me. Can you do that?”

***

Hell yeah, he could do that.

Loving Leah was second nature for Colt—giving himself to her came easier than breathing.
Gazing down into her flushed face, brimming with emotion and lust, he shoved aside
all thoughts of her bastard ex-fiancé and focused on what felt right. He let go and
simply loved her.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lowered onto her body until her curves molded
to every inch of him. When she sighed with contentment and pulled him closer, he gave
her more of his weight and tipped their foreheads together. Her blue eyes mirrored
the passion he felt, proof that she wanted him and no one else. This felt so good—all
wrapped up in her soft skin and her scent. He never wanted it to end. Taking her face,
he brushed their lips together and adored her with his mouth, using the tip of his
tongue in a sensual invitation that she eagerly took.

While they kissed, he began rocking against her. Beads of arousal converged on his
rounded tip and made him slick. She worked a hand between them to stroke his length,
but he pulled her away, afraid of finishing too soon. It was a miracle he’d lasted
until now. He laced their fingers together and pinned them above her head while using
his free hand to caress the swollen bundle of nerves between her thighs until it grew
engorged and throbbing.

“CJ,” she gasped. “Now.”

He couldn’t wait a second longer. Nudging her wider apart, he settled himself at the
base of her passage and eased inside an inch, pulled back, and slid a fraction deeper.
Clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, he continued playing at her entrance,
ignoring the overwhelming urge to bury himself to the hilt with one thrust. She was
so small, gripping him like a hot liquid fist, and he knew she’d need to stretch to
take all of him. He worked inside her gradually, letting her set the pace with the
slow undulation of her hips. Then she drew her knees higher and let them drop to the
sides, opening her velvet walls enough for him to slide in to the base. She was a
tight fit, but they locked together perfectly.