Page 249 of Broken Saint

As his fingers massage over my skin, my eyes grow heavier and heavier.

No sooner does he notice than I’m lifted off my feet, wrapped in a fluffy towel, and carried back to my bedroom.

“Where are your pajamas?” he asks after depositing me on the edge.

I point them out and watch as he chooses a set before he dresses me and tucks me in.

I lie there uncaring that my hair is soaking my pillow, watching him as he dries off and drops the towel.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as my eyes trace every line and curve of his body. It’s a work of art.

“See something you like?” he shoots over his shoulder before digging around in his bag for a pair of boxers.

“You could say that, yeah.”

Finally, he turns around, giving me a full-frontal shot.

“Mmm,” I moan, just like he did when he had that first cookie earlier.

“You see what you do to me, Bombshell,” he says, nodding down to where his cock is standing hard and proud from his body.

I nod, my blood heating in my veins as a sense of power rushes through me.

I do that. Me. Even when I’m broken down and at my worst. I affect him like that.

He wants me with all my flaws and my darkness.

Just like I do him.

Reaching out, I grab the other side of the duvet and lift it in invitation.

He pulls on his boxers, for all the good that scrap of fabric does, and then hesitates.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re in your mom’s house. Maybe I should—” His eyes shift to the closed door, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I think it’s a little too late for that kind of chivalry, Colton Rogers. The ultrasound picture in my bag clued my mother into what we’ve been up to already.”

Lifting his hand, he scrubs it down his face.

“I’ve done this all wrong, haven’t I?”

“Nope,” I say confidently, summoning him over again. “We’re doing it our way. The wrong way doesn’t exist in our world.”

A small, thankful smile spreads across his mouth, and my stomach knots as my heart pounds harder.

Unable to deny me, Colt’s wide stride eats up the space between us and in seconds, he climbs into my twin bed.

The moment his body hits the mattress, I swear the entire thing shrinks in size.

“This wasn’t made for a football player, was it?” he asks lightly as he rolls onto his side and drags me back into his body so my back is pressed against his front.

“Nope. We’ll figure it out, though.”

His lips press against my shoulder. “We will. We’ll figure everything out.”

Despite my tiredness, I don’t immediately drift off. Instead, I lie there enjoying Colton’s warmth and strength.