He slams into me one last time, and we break together. He shouts my name, his body shuddering as he spills inside me. My own climax crashes over me, wave after wave, until I’m shattered beneath him.
He collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms. My head rests on his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
For the first time in my life, lying here in a tangle of limbs and sweat and satisfaction, I don’t feel like I need to hide.
I feel beautiful.
I feelfuckingbeautiful.
Chapter 18
Zoey
Iwake up warm and satisfied for the first time in years.
Then I open my eyes… and the other side of the bed is empty.
"Colt?" I bolt upright, heart hammering against my ribs. The sheets are rumpled, still holding the shape of his body, but they’re cool to the touch.
He’s gone.
The thought is a cold splash of reality. I scramble out of bed, grabbing the first thing I see on the floor. Colt’s purple Snow Leopards hoodie. I pull it on as I slide out of bed and tread barefoot into the living room.
It's empty.
Did he even kiss me goodbye?
A hot, vivid flashback of last night detonates behind my eyes.
The dinner. The lingerie. The sex.
Jesus Christ, the sex.
The memory of his mouth on me makes my thighs clench right here in the middle of the hallway. I can still feel the scrape of his stubble against my inner thigh, the sinful, slow worship and slick heat of his tongue circling every private inch of me.
He’d made me comethree timesbefore he even took his pants off.
Three times!
And my God, for the first time in eight years, I’d beenloud. I’d screamed. I’d begged. I’d come so hard, my body was convulsing around him as he drove into me over and over.
I yank the hoodie tighter, already rehearsing the angry voicemail I’m going to leave him. Seriously… the only evidence I didn't imagine last night even happened is the two wine glasses we left on the coffee table last night.
But then, I grab my phone off the kitchen counter, and my stomachdropswhen I see the time on the screen.
"OH SHIT!"I scream loudly, spinning around so fast I nearly trip over my own two feet like a baby giraffe on roller skates. "MORGAN! MY BAKERY!SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!"
I’m out of the apartment in under sixty seconds, still in Colt’s hoodie and the leggings I wore over here last night. My hair is a wild mess and I didn't even bother putting my shoes on, just socks as I take the stairs two at a time, bursting out into the crisp Chilmore morning.
The sun is already high, glinting off the snow-dusted peaks.
Fuck.
Main Street is already coming to life. Harold is outside Frost Café, sweeping the sidewalk, and he gives me a knowing wave as I sprint past.
“Late start, Zoey?”
“Shut up Harold!” I yell over my shoulder, my socks soaking through with icy slush.