way, and we both burst into fits of laughter.
“I can’t believe that just happened.”
He gives me a smirk and buckles up. “Rusty was a classmate. I’m sure half the town will hear all about this by morning,” he says as he puts the truck in Drive.
I buckle up and sit back to enjoy the rest of our drive. As he pulls out of the lot, Colton reaches over and takes my hand, resting it on his thigh once more. I can’t help but smile as he returns his hands to the wheel. I’m more aware of his driving, but not because I don’t trust him. It’s because I’m taking it all in and really paying attention to how he drives and responds to the road conditions. I imagine myself in the driver’s seat, moving us through the snow to get us safely back home.
When he pulls into the driveway, I notice my car is completely unrecognizable. It’s so covered with snow, you can’t even tell what color it is. “Stay there. I’ll help you out,” he says before shutting off the truck. He grabs his duffel bag from the back seat before meeting me around to the passenger side. I take his offered hand and carefully hop out of the truck, wishing like hell I had purchased a pair of snow boots today. The cold, wet snow quickly seeps into my tennis shoes as we scramble for the back door.
Colton lets us in, and we both stomp our feet and shake off the snow. I toe off my wet shoes and set them on the mat by the door to dry. My fingers find my coat zipper as I start to remove my layers of warmth. When I glance at Colton, I find him standing there, his own boots off and his coat in his hand. Without breaking eye contact, he tosses his coat onto the dryer and reaches for mine, throwing it on top of his. Then, he moves, pressing his body against mine, pinning me to the washing machine.
His lips are eager and firm, his hands roaming my back and sliding down to cup my ass. He lifts me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist. Colton wastes no time in moving us through the house to his bedroom.
The moment we cross the threshold, I’m assaulted by his familiar scent. It wraps around me warmly, and full of familiarity, the same as his body is with me in his arms. He continues to move until I’m lying on the comforter, his body pressed into mine. That recognizable ache bubbles to life as he rocks into me, his erection firmly between us.
When he slows the kiss, I use the opportunity to pull my lips from his and slide them across his jaw. The bite of his stubble is like a bucket of gasoline to an already raging inferno. I have no control over my body, over my mouth, which is why it’s so shocking when I say, “We’re wearing too many clothes.”
I’m never the bold one.
His blue eyes burn even darker. “I do believe you’re right.”
He stands up beside the bed and lifts his shirt up and over his head in that crazy, sexy one-handed way that men can do. His chest is chiseled to perfection with a smattering of dark blond hair. I get an unobstructed view of the tattoo on his left arm. It’s some sort of military design with two names underneath.
“Franks and Tonner,” he says, tapping just below the bold names. “My brothers who were killed eight years ago in a roadside bomb.” He swallows hard. “The moment we got back to the US, we all went together and got them in memory of our brothers.”
“That’s beautiful,” I whisper through my tight throat.
Colton pushes his workout pants down to his ankles, revealing tight black boxer briefs that make my mouth water. I sit up and pull my long-sleeved workout shirt up and over my own head, tossing it onto the floor. I wore my best bra that’s somewhat supportive, yet isn’t a sports bra, and I’m glad I did. Nothing’s sexy about a flat chest in a workout bra.
Just as I reach down to slide out of my pants, a text message notification fills the room. At first, Colton pays it no attention. His eyes are greedily drinking their fill on my exposed chest, following the delicate curves of my breasts against the light blue satin. But when it chimes a second time, he startles