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Colton stole my heart. He wasn't supposed to, and I sure as hell didn't want him to, but he crashed into my life, ignited feelings within me that I thought had died forever, and fueled a passion that I never knew could exist.
Rylee fell out of that damn storage closet and into my life. Now I don't think I'll ever be the same. She's seen glimpses of the darkness within me, and yet she's still here. Still fighting for me. She is without a doubt the saint, and I am most definitely the sinner.
How is it the one thing neither of us wanted—neither of us anticipated that fateful night—has us fighting so hard to keep?
He steals my breath, stops my heart, and brings me back to life again all in a split second of time. But how can I love a man who won't let me in? Who continually pushes me away to prevent me from seeing the damaged secrets in his past? My heart has fallen, but patience and forgiveness can only go so far.
How can I desire a woman who unnerves me, defies me, and forces me to see that in the deep, black abyss of my soul there's someone worthy of her love? A place and person I swore I'd never be again. Her selfless heart and sexy body deserve so much more than I'll ever be capable of giving her. I know I can't be what she needs, so why can't I just let her go?
We are driven by need and fueled with desire, but is that enough for us to crash into love?
It is only then that Colton approaches
me, backing me up against the kitchen counter, his hips pressing into me, and
his mouth capturing mine in a mind-altering, head-dizzying, soul-emptying kiss.
God, I missed the taste of him. The
kiss ends much too soon, unable to get my fill after missing him for four days,
and he wraps his arms around me in a tight hug that I know I could lose myself
in if it wasn’t for our surroundings.
A hug teeming with a quiet desperation,
he holds me to him, his face nuzzled in the side of my neck, and I can feel him
breathe me in and draw strength from our connection.
“Hey,” I murmur softly as his hands press
into my back. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He breathes. “Now I am.”
His murmured confession rocks me. Hits
those parts deep within in me, unjaded and still full of hope and possibility.
He finally releases me when he hears
sounds in the hallway. I gaze up at his face and look beyond the handsome
features that still make my breath catch in my throat every time I see him. I
notice darkened smudges under his tired, wary eyes. He’s not sleeping. More
nightmares? I don’t know and I don’t want to ask. He’ll tell me if he wants to.
When he’s able to.
He angles his head in question to why I‘m
just staring at him, trying to figure out what’s different about him when it
hits me. He’s clean-shaven. I reach up and run my hand across his jaw, his face
leaning into my touch. And it’s something about that little gesture mixed with
his earlier confession that makes my heart swell.
“What’s this?” I ask, trying to prevent
him from reading into the emotional transparency in my eyes by teasing him. “So
smooth and clean shaven.”
“It doesn’t bode too well doing a razor
commercial with a five o’clock shadow,” he smirks, running his palms up and
down the sides of my torso. Licks of desire flicker low in my belly at his
touch.
I laugh out loud. “Understandably. I like
it though,” I tell him, running my fingers over it again when he frowns. “It’s
okay, Ace, you still ooze bad boy without the stubble. Besides, I’ll get to
sleep with someone different than this scruffy-jawed man I’ve been wasting my
time on.”
He flashes me a quick smile. “Wasting
your time, huh?” He takes a step toward me, lust clearly edging the humor out
of his eyes.
Every part of my body tightens at the
predatory way his body moves toward mine. My God. Take me, I want to tell him. Take
every part of me that you already haven’t stolen, taken, or claimed.
“Oh, most definitely. He’s a rebel...” I
scrunch my nose up “...and I definitely
don’t do the bad boy type.”
“No?” He wets his lips with
a quick dart of his tongue. “What type exactly, do you do?”
K. lives in Southern California with her husband and three children. When she needs a break from the daily chaos of her life, you can most likely find her on the treadmill or with Kindle in hand, devouring the pages of a good, saucy book.
Fueled is K. Bromberg’s second published novel and is the highly anticipated second book of “The Driven Trilogy.” Driven was her well-received debut novel and Book #1 of the series.
Thanks for a great post!! <3
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