Tackling Love - Kathleen Kelly Page 0,1
you can’t open your car door.” Mr. Biceps grins at me, takes the keys from my hand, and unlocks my car with ease. “See, it’s easy.” He leans up against the open door and grins at me as he slowly looks me up and down.
“I’m perfectly capable of opening the door, but thank you.” He’s super cute, and I squirm under his gaze. “Who are you?”
“I’m Colt Anders,” he says it like I should know who he is, but I have no idea.
“Well, Mr. Anders, thank you. If you could step aside, I’ll be on my way.”
“Now, honey, you are five foot four of hotness, and you shouldn’t be going home alone,” Colt drawls.
Clenching my thighs together, a dull ache vibrates from my core. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a man to my bed, too long. Only this guy’s so full of himself.
“I’m five foot five.”
Colt licks his lips, and before I know what I’m doing, I blurt out, “Get in, cowboy.”
The grin widens, and he jogs around to the other side of the car.
As I drive away, I see Derek at the entrance of the bar watching me leave.
Actually, he probably saw Colt get in.
The drive home takes about twenty minutes. During that time, Colt’s hands are everywhere, his lips are on my neck, and I swear, I nearly drive off the road a half dozen times.
Damn! This guy knows what he’s doing.
When we arrive home, I open my car door, and he climbs across the seats to get to me, which is no small feat for someone his size. The kissing continues up to the front door of my house. I’m beginning to think we won’t make it inside, but my brain kicks in, and I break the kiss and turn around. My house keys are in my hand, and I’m trying to put the keys in the lock, all while Colt’s hands are pulling up my skirt, and his hands are touching, pinching, and turning me into liquid fire.
The door finally opens, and we fall through it.
Colt is on top of me, laughing. Somehow, I manage to roll over as he sits up, slams the front door with his foot and begins undoing his belt.
I grab his hands. “Let’s take this into the bedroom,” I purr.
Colt stands, I hold out my hands, and he pulls me to my feet, then ducks and throws me over his shoulder.
“Which way?” He laughs.
“Straight and hang a left,” I yell through my laughter.
Colt finds my bedroom and throws me on the bed. I’m laughing so hard, but when he pulls his shirt over his head, the laughter dies on my lips. I’ve never seen a body so perfectly sculptured—he looks like a god. Crawling toward him on the bed, Colt removes his belt, and I smile.
“Stop. Let me.”
The button to his jeans comes undone easily. Slowly, I pull on the zipper and run my hands over his rock-hard butt before tugging on his jeans and underwear. Both my hands wrap around his large shaft. Lowering my mouth to the tip of his cock, my tongue swirls over it. Colt growls and tangles his hands in my hair. He moves my head up and down, and I relish in the noises he’s making, but he abruptly pulls me up.
“Skye, I want to fuck you. And if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to.” Colt’s voice is ragged, and his eyes are filled with lust.
Nodding, I reach down to pull my shirt over my head, but he grabs my hands.
“Uh-huh, let me.” Colt’s hands trail down my body, sending sparks of electricity through me wherever they touch. He grabs the hem of my shirt, and I raise my hands above my head. Colt pulls it up and stops once it gets to my head, so I’m vulnerable, trapped. The next thing I feel is his hands on my waist and his lips between my breasts. I’m lost in the sensations he’s eliciting from me and unable to do anything but enjoy them. One of his hands moves up my body to my bra, pulling down the skimpy material, and then his mouth covers my nipple, sucking, licking, biting.
I want out of my prison.
I want to touch him.
To do to him what he’s doing to me.
“Colt, I want to touch you,” I whimper.
“Not yet. Need you to trust me.”
I’m on my knees with my hands above my head, my face is covered, and I do not know this