Page 36 of Broken Saint
I squeeze my eyes closed as shame burns through me. I’m not the woman he used to know. There’s more of me, a lot more, andI doubt a man who trains as hard as he does to keep his body in top condition would be interested in a woman who has more than a few wobbly bits.
“Yeah, maybe you aren’t the only one who’s matured into an adult.”
I scoff at his words, instantly regretting it when his brows shoot up and my cheeks burn bright red.
“Oh?” he asks.
“I see the things written about you in the media, Colton Playboy Rogers.”
“Maybe so,” he soothes, lifting his hand from my neck in favor of tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “But I think you know as well as I do just how exaggerated those stories are. So…it seems you’ve been reading all about me and what I may or may not have been getting up to. But what about you, Bombshell? Last I heard you were in Texas settling down with a cowboy. Yet, here you are, sitting here with me, with my number wrapped around your sexy body and allowing me to touch you in a way I’m sure a certain cowboy would have something to say about.”
Oh god. It takes more effort than I possess, while half wasted and high on his scent, to keep from melting into his body, to feel the deep rumble of his voice beneath my ear as he speaks.
I startle when his knuckles graze my thigh before he lifts my left hand, holding it between us.
His thumb brushes over my finger, noting the absence of a ring. His eyes follow the movement before they find mine, searching, trying to read all the answers he’s so desperate for.
“Th-there’s no cowboy,” I whisper, barely able to force the words out while I’m locked in his intense stare. “I-I left.”
“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath.
“Letty invited me for Sunday’s game. For old time’s sake.”
“Yet you’re already here,” he points out.
“So I am,” I muse, finally pulling my hand free.
If I thought his proximity made my brain misfire, then it’s nothing compared to his touch.
“Ella, I?—”
Reaching out, I press my fingers to his lips, fearing what’s going to come next from the tone of his voice.
“Don’t. You have nothing to?—”
His fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping me from retreating.
“I do,” he argues. “I have so many things to apologize for when it comes to you.”
My chin drops, lips forming an O.
“But,” he starts, wrapping his spare hand around my thigh and dragging me closer. “I’m not sure words will be enough to express just how sorry I am.”
I suck in a sharp breath. My heart is racing, my skin is burning, and when he cups my jaw and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, every single nerve ending in my body buzzes with desire.
Heat floods my veins, making my thighs clench and my clit throb in a way I haven’t felt in a very, very long time.
It’s like Colt is the only one who knows exactly what buttons to press to get my body burning, but he doesn’t only press them. He fucking obliterates them.
“Colt,” I breathe, summoning up every ounce of self-control I possess.
“Yeah, Bombshell. Anything.”
His eyes flash with something I don’t want to acknowledge right now. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. But then that is Colton Rogers down to a T. He’s thrilling, exciting, and enchanting, but at the same time, he’s dangerous. He holds more power over me than anyone else I’ve ever met because despite not wanting it, he’s the only one who’s ever heldmy heart in his hands, and if he wants to, he can squeeze the life right of me.
And right now, I don’t think I have the strength to deal with the fallout when he walks away from me again after we’ve had our fun.
Closing my eyes, I break our contact and force out the words I need to say. “We can’t do this.”