Page 74 of Broken Saint

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Page 74 of Broken Saint

Dipping low, I grab the towel that’s wrapped around her with my teeth and pull it from her body.

“Colton,” she gasps as it hits the floor.

“If only you wore a dress yesterday,” I muse. “Maybe you should go to breakfast wearing nothing but my jersey. Let everyone know you’re mine.”

“Colt,” she warns.

With that image playing havoc in my head, I release her and run to my closet.

“What are you doing?” she calls, but I ignore her as I hunt for what I want.

I’m back in seconds, tugging my jersey over her naked body.

“There. Now you’re ready.”

“I can’t go out like this,” she argues.

Stepping up to her, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, forcing her to tilt her head back to keep eye contact.

“I know a girl who would have done it,” I taunt, making her eyes flash with recognition. “I bet she’d have sat opposite me in the restaurant and spread her legs too, just to drive me wild.”

She frowns. She knows what I’m doing, and I’m banking on her still being stubborn enough to go along with it.

“Yeah, Bombshell?”

“I look a mess.”

I smirk, looking her up and down. “I promise you, you don’t.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I say, reaching for her hand and dragging her into the bathroom. “Stand there,” I demand before pulling a hairdryer from the vanity and plugging it in.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you ready to go out. Now, shush, you’re distracting me.”

Turning the hair dryer on, I aim it at her blonde locks and set about doing her hair.

It seems today is all about firsts. First sleepover in my apartment, first bath in my tub, first shift as a hairdresser.

“That looks surprisingly good seeing as you used your man shampoo and don’t own a brush,” she confesses, combing her fingers through her locks and inspecting my handiwork.

“Well, if shit goes wrong, at least we know I have another talent in life.”

“I can assure you, you have plenty,” she teases.

“Yeah, problem is, I only want to use those skills with one woman. And anyway, no one could afford me.”

“Colton Rogers, as egotistical and big-headed as ever,” she mocks, walking out of the bathroom, her ass swaying beautifully beneath my jersey.

“So, can we go eat now? I’m fucking starving.”

She looks down at herself questioningly. I expect her to refuse when she looks up and just demand I take her back to Letty’s. But much to my surprise and delight, I get the opposite.

Her eyes burn with fire and determination as she says, “Let’s go.” Although, she quickly adds, “Before I change my mind.”

Taking her hand in mine, I drag her out of my apartment and into the elevator to descend to my car.




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