Page 120 of Broken Saint

“Colt,” she moans, her muscles tightening, desperately trying to suck me deeper.

Lifting her a little higher, I slam my lips against hers before punching my hips forward and filling her in one move.

Home.

This is home.

32

ELLA

“Go and get dressed,” Colt says not a second after he lowers me to my feet.

“W-we’re going out?” I stutter, barely able to focus on anything but the lingering tingles of the intense release he just gave me.

It was Letty’s idea for me to be waiting for him to return in one of the lingerie sets he sent for me.

And it seemed like a good idea when I was with her and feeling good about myself.

But the second he messaged to say he was on his way and I was thrown into actually having to do it, I couldn’t think of anything worse.

Getting naked when all I usually try to do is hide.

I kept reminding myself that it was Colt.

He hasn’t done anything to make me question how he feels about me or my body since we reconnected. But that didn’t matter once I got up in my own head about it.

I almost bailed and pulled on one of his jerseys. I figured it would still be good and hopefully a nice surprise, although it wouldn’t have had the same impact as the lingerie.

But the second I heard him come in and then his voice echo through the quiet apartment, I knew I needed to man up.

Colt deserves to have a woman with at least a little self-confidence.

And fuck me sideways, am I glad I did it.

The way his eyes widened, and his chin dropped.

It was a serious ego boost.

Even still, it was hard, almost impossible to remain standing there under his intense stare and not want to cower.

But I’m so proud of myself for doing it. For digging out a little of the old me and managing to knock him off his feet.

Even if he’s now returning the favor.

“I thought we were having a night in,” I say, hating that my disappointment is obvious.

I’m sure whatever he has planned will be great. But I want him to myself.

It’s selfish, but I can’t help it.

It’s been years since we got to spend any time together, and now that I’ve got him back, I’m like a junkie craving their next hit. And I never want it to end.

“We’re not going out, out. You don’t need to dress up. In fact,” he says, looking a little unsure of himself. “We’re not even going to get out of the car.”

“Oh,” I say before my brows pinch with concern. Searching his eyes, I try to figure out what’s caused the change in him. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…I need to talk to you about something.”