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Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! was ringing through her head so loudly she was afraid one of the other guests would hear. She didn’t get much farther than the lobby before she remembered she didn’t have any keys and so no means of escape. And even if she did, there was no place for her to go. She sat in a massive red upholstered chair pulled up to the gas fireplace, hugging her knees for added warmth. The jacket was way too big for her, but not big enough to hide her shortie shorts, but at this point she didn’t give a rat’s ass. Tears stung her, but she refused to let them drop.
You are acting like a fifteen-year-old Melody Marie Spearman, she chastised herself. He’s a rock star. What is that they say? SEX, drugs, and rock n roll?
She stared at the fake fire.
But you’d think he could go one night without it. Damn.
She heard his voice and tensed.
“Cheryl. I thought you made me a promise,” he growled.
A female voice responded. “Oh, no. What did they do?”
“So you did tell them.”
“A blonde and one with long, dark hair?”
“Yep.”
Melody heard papers rattling and things being moved. “They took the maid’s pass key.”
“Well that explains how they got in. What you haven’t explained is why you told them after I specifically asked you to keep my presence here a secret.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Remkus. I didn’t tell them exactly...I just told them I met you. I wanted to impress them. They’re popular, and I’m...well, I’m not.”
Colton sighed. “Listen, Cheryl. I understand high school is hard. Believe it or not, as old as I am, I remember. But those are not the kind of girls you want to hang with. You have so much more going for you. You’re smart, good at your job, pretty...” Melody remembered her as a heavy-set girl with thick rimmed glasses and a bad case of acne. She did have beautiful eyes though. And hair with potential if she ever got it cut anywhere but Aberton. “Don’t sell yourself out so those two think you’re cool. You’re better than them.”
“Gee, thanks. And sorry. Do you want me to get them out?”
“Would you?”
Her voice took on new strength. “It’d be my pleasure.”
Mel heard heels clicking on linoleum.
“Tommy. Watch the desk, would ya? I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you,” Colt said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the lady who came in with me went...”
Melody bit her bottom lip.
Cheryl must have gestured because Colt responded, “Oh.”
She straightened, grabbing a magazine off the coffee table so she could appear busy.
His head peeked over the back of the chair. “Mel?”
He came around in front of her, and she paged through the magazine without looking up at him. “Done so quickly? I would have thought a stud like you could last a little longer.”
He grabbed her chin, lifting her face and staring into her eyes. “I’ll have you know if I was doing what you thought I was doing, I’d last as long as I needed slash wanted to.” Heat speared through her. “But that’s not what I was doing.”
She jerked her chin away and flipped pages violently, mad at herself for acting like a jealous wife when they clearly had no relationship in the first place, and she had no grounds to be resentful. “Sure. Whatever you say.” Something about the sound of the glossy pages slapping together was satisfying. “It made me uncomfortable, is all. I didn’t want to be privy to...whatever it was you all were doing in there.”
“Melody. Give me a break. I didn’t even know they were there. They stole a maid’s key and—”
“I know. I heard.” She exhaled, closing the magazine and setting it on the table.
“Then why are you giving me a hard time?”
She rose. “Never mind. Let’s just—”
Cheryl’s voice rang through the lobby, and they swiveled to peer down the hall. She stood outside Colt’s room holding two cell phones. “You better get those clothes back on or I’m calling your parents.”
Colt chuckled. “Well I’ll be damned.”
Cheryl glanced their way and smiled. Colt gave her a thumb’s up. The black-haired girl came hopping through the doorway, trying to get her sandal back on while at the same time taking a swipe at her phone.
“Give me that, you bitch.”
“Uh-uh-uh. No one likes a potty mouth, Sariah.” She took a step back, holding the phone at a more protected angle. “Once you are safely out of my motel, I’ll give it back.”
“Your motel? You’re nothing but a desk jockey.”
Cheryl’s brows raised, and she pushed a button before putting one of the phones to her ear. “Hello. Mrs. Manning?”
The girl shrieked, and Cheryl took off running with Sariah on her heels. Blondie stepped out, straightening her tank top, and sized up her friends, then spun around and caught sight of Colt. A big toothy grin broke out over her face. He frowned and raised a hand to point to the end of the hallway where Cheryl was holding a phone above her while her friend jumped to try to get it back. The blonde’s shoulders slumped, and she spun around to trod toward the ruckus. Colt started walking in that direction, perhaps thinking Cheryl might need some help.
“You want your phone?” Cheryl asked. “Then go get it.” She chucked it out the door, and even as far away as they were, they heard it clatter across pavement.
“You bitch!” The girl turned into a hell-cat, scratching and clawing. Colt ran, and Melody picked up her pace, too. But Cheryl gave her opponent one big shove outside and scrambled to close the exit. They came to a halt and watched from a distance.
Outside, the girl banged on the door’s window. Her outraged screams became more and more incoherent as she slipped further into hysteria.
Cheryl shook her head. “What was that? I’m sorry. I can’t understand you.”
“I’ll kill you!”
She nodded. “Uh-huh.” The blonde reached her.
“Can I have my phone back?” she asked dully.
“Of course.” Cheryl handed the phone over and for a second the girl on the outside was quiet, her mouth hanging open. Then she began beating harder, so angry at this point, she was crying. Cheryl and the blonde watched her for a short time. “How about you go out the front?”
“Good idea,” the blonde replied. The pair walked together toward them as Sariah threw herself against the door.
“I like your nail polish,” Cheryl commented.
The blonde held her hands up. “Oh, thanks. Yours is pretty sick, too.”
Cheryl examined her nails as they were passing. “Thanks. It’s new.”
Melody looked back. The black-haired girl puffed out a breath, blowing her hair, which had fallen in front of her eyes. With resignation, she whirled and walked out of sight.
Colt cleared his throat. “Well, now that’s taken care of, let’s have a drink.”
She chuckled. His blasé attitude, after the drama they witnessed seconds before, tickled her. She exhaled. “Sounds good.”
She dropped her chin as she followed him into the room, feeling foolish and remorseful for her earlier sniping. Placing her hand on the side of the bed, she slowly lowered herself to the mattress, searching for the words she wanted to say. “Colt. I’m sorry for being snarky earlier.”
Busy at the dresser, he didn’t turn at first. “That’s all right.” He rotated to face her, holding two glasses. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be in your position either.”
Like I’d have two naked men waiting for me in my room. The thought was amusing.
Walking toward her, he raised his brows. “But I wouldn’t do that to you, for the record.”
She was about to apologize again, but he interrupted. “Tequila for the lady.” He handed her a flute and sat on the bed opposite.
She stared at her glass.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d need a shot glass.”
“Oh, no. This holds liquid. It works.” She again peered into her darker drink. “Where’d you get these flutes, anyway?”
“At the liquor store.”
“Wow.” She ran a finger along the ribbed lines in the plastic flute. “Mort’s has gone upscale. You’re not expecting me to drink all this, are you?”
“Oh, wait. I have something else.” He set his champagne on the bedside table between them and went over to the dresser. When he came back, he held out closed fists. “Choose.”
She smiled. White was sticking out of the one hand and it made her curious. She tapped it. He flipped his hand over and opened it. A ball of wadded cocktail napkin sat on his palm, wet spots dotting its surface. She looked up at him.
“Go on. Open it.”
She took it from him gingerly and pulled away the napkin. A stack of lime slices lay in its folds. “You got lime.”
He opened his other hand. It contained a half-dozen fast food type salt packets.
“And salt.” She grinned and set everything on the table by his flute. “Awesome.”
He seemed pleased with himself. “Okay. Let’s drink up.” He took his flute and held it up expectantly.
“Oh.” Mel quickly ripped open a salt packet, licked the side of her hand, and poured the white crystals on it. She took her glass and held it up to his, waiting for his signal.
“To R&J and M&C.”
M&C? She furrowed her brows.
“You know. The powerhouse of Melody and Colton?”
She nodded. “Ahh. Yes. But you did it all, my friend.”
He dipped his chin. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Cheers.”
They clinked glasses, and Melody licked the salt off her hand as he brought his flute to his lips. She tried to down a shot size swallow, but took in too much and dribbled some on her chin, giving her a tiny chill. She laughed and made a move to wipe it off as he went to help her, rubbing away a trail with his thumb. “Thanks.” She grabbed a slice of lime and bit into it. The sweet, citrusy taste washed away the harshness of the tequila. After a few seconds, she removed it and placed it next to the others on the napkin. “Umm. Good stuff. Where’d you get the tequila and lime?”
He studied her. “I noticed they had an assortment of tiny bottles in their snack shop when we checked in. And Cheryl helped me raid the breakfast kitchen to get the rest.”
“You’re very resourceful.”
“If it’s important to me.” He leaned forward, staring at her intently.
Her cheeks warmed. Is it the tequila or the way he said that? “Thank you.”
“Oh.” He set his glass on the table and slid his hand into his shirt pocket. “I have something else.” He pulled out a package of cocktail peanuts, opened it, and spilled some out on the table in front of the phone, taking a few.
“You think of everything.” She scooped some up. “I should probably have some, too, or this tequila will go straight to my head. I forgot to eat lunch.”
“Forgot to eat lunch? I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten to eat lunch.”
She noticed he had his glass raised again. “Another toast?”
He nodded.
She scrambled to get her glass.
“To Cheryl.”
“To Cheryl.” She kicked back a shot without mishap. The golden liquid burned its way to her core.
He raised his brows. “Getting better.”
She smiled. “I am a pro.”
He grunted. “Another then?”
“Another? Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Yes, I am.”
She giggled, her thoughts a trifle fuzzy. “Why, Mr. Remkus. What are your intentions?”
He was dead serious. “I intend to get you to tell me the truth.”
“Intend to...what?” Something went wrong here. She set her glass aside slowly. “The truth about what?”
He placed his glass next to hers and put his hands in his lap, focusing on them for a moment. He lifted his head and held her gaze. “The truth about why you told me you’ve never been here before when you have.”
“What? I...”
He held up a hand. “Don’t make it worse by lying to me.” Suddenly it seemed like the bedside lamps were interrogation lights. She almost expected him to ask where she was on a particular date. Her heart beat kicked up a notch. If he knew who she was...
She couldn’t look at him. She stilled then blew out air. “Okay. If that’s what you want. I guess you deserve that.” She retrieved her glass from the table, twirling it around by the stem, peering into its depths as if she were reading tea leaves. She peered up. “One more drink?”
He tilted his chin, but picked up his flute and lifted it to tap against hers. He held it there and his words sounded like a death knoll. “To honesty.”
“To honesty,” she mumbled. She “clinked” it and tipped the glass up, pouring the rest inside her. Her mouth was full of fire, which seemed appropriate considering what she was about to tell him. She slid down the side of the mattress and sat on the floor with her feet out in front of her, stretching to his bed and leaning against hers.
“Are you okay?”
She hunched her shoulders, but nodded, handing her glass up to him. He took it and put it on the table, then lowered himself to the floor across from her with a touch more grace than she showed. He bent one knee and rested his forearm on it, still dangling his glass from his hand. He waited.
“I’m scared to tell you, Colt,” she murmured.
He set his flute on the floor next to him and reached over to lift her chin, searching her face. “Why?”
She glanced away, blinking rapidly, then held his gaze. “I don’t want you to think less of me.”
He took her hand and rubbed his thumb across the back of it. “Melody...”
Before he could say anything else she burst out with, “How did you know?”
“At the factory, you said you’d taken the tour before.”
“Damn.”
“And then, I never told you it was Mort’s Liquor Store, but you knew.”
She studied her shorts. “I’m not a very good liar.”
“No. You’re not.”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Start at the beginning.”
“Okay.” She spread her arms wide. “This is my hometown. Yep. I’m a country bumpkin. I lived here all of my life up until the day your dad walked into the diner I worked at.”
His whole body tensed up. “The diner you didn’t want to stop at?”
She held a finger up. “Yep. That’s the one.”
“Go on.”
“So...Ty came in, and sat at my table. Some guys were giving me trouble. I got pissed and quit my job.” She had to smile at this. “They followed me out to the parking lot, and your dad cold-cocked the ringleader. Knocked him out.”
“My dad? No way.”
“I’m serious. One punch and it was lights out.”
“You’re freaking kidding me.”
She put one hand across her heart and held the other one up as if taking an oath. “I swear. I think he was about as shocked as you are. We hightailed it out of there. Your dad was giving me a ride home...but he figured out home wasn’t such a friendly place.” She rubbed her arms, remembering, and a chill ran up her spine. She shivered.
“You cold?”
“A little.”
He pulled the comforter off her bed. She leaned up and he wrapped it around her then took his place again. Her stomach growled loudly. She giggled. “Sorry.”
“Oh. I forgot. I got chicken strips. They’d be cold now, though.”
“Who cares? I’m starving. Bring those suckers over here.”
He retrieved the bag from the dresser and then handed it to her.
“Ooh. The Hen House. Good stuff.” She handed him a box and set one on her lap. “I think the fries are a no-go though.” She held one up and it drooped.
He laughed, digging into his tenders. “Yeah. I’ll pass.” They ate without speaking for a minute or two. It was dark outside and the lights, which seemed like interrogation lamps earlier, now seemed to enclose them in a comforting embrace. They were bright as hell between them, but they didn’t even reach to the other sides of the beds, and definitely not into the corners. Just the two of them in a magical spotlight.
But she’d have to tell him the truth, and then where would she be?
* * *
WHEN THEY WERE FINISHED, Colt brushed off his hands. “Did you have enough to eat?”
“Yes. Those were great.”
“Wow. Cold chicken fingers. Man, you’re easy to please.”
“Cold chicken fingers and tequila.” She picked up her glass and tipped the last drop into her mouth. “Hmm.” She stared into the glass. “Seems to be empty.”
He got to his feet. “Well, we can’t have that.” He collected their trash and then came back with the champagne bottle and the last mini bottle of tequila. She held up her glass with a grin. He started to pour some in, but stopped. “You may want to go slower on this one. It’s our last. Although they did have some whiskey I could get.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Bleck. No, this is fine.”
He refilled his glass and sat with his hands folded in his lap.
“You want to know more.”
He nodded.
“Ugh. Fine.” She set her glass down and pulled the blanket around her more tightly. “So...your dad brought me home...but, he saw my dad...” She took a deep breath and blinked slowly. “And the bruises on my arms. He put one and one together and knew Daddy was a mean son-of-a-bitch.”
Colt’s stomach dropped. She was like the kids on the scholarship apps. “He...beat you?”
“Oh, yeah. And I knew I was in for it, too, because I quit my job. He was suspended from work at the time and mine was the only money coming in.” She shook her head to expel the thought. “Anyway...Ty, being the genius he was, decided to kidnap me.”
“Kidnap you?”
She smiled. “He took off in that monstrosity of a truck of his like a bat out of hell.” She chuckled. “And then offered me a job at R&J.”
Colt tried to absorb it all. His dad, the prize fighter? And...how could anyone hit Melody, let alone her father?
She sighed. “So you’re right, Colt. I have no degree. The only experience I had was slinging greens, mashed potatoes, and fries greasier than this.” She held up a fry that had dropped out of the bag. “When I came to R&J, I worked my ass off to impress Ty. To prove he didn’t make a mistake in offering me that position. And I did a damn good job, too.” She brushed off her lap. “But I guess that’s all over.” She stood, took the blanket from her shoulders, and spread it over the bed.
Colt stared at her then scrambled to his feet. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean...” She tugged the blanket, checking to make sure she had it centered. “You’re the new CEO, and you’ll need someone with better credentials than me. I get that. And—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Panic gripped him.
“I’m saying—”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
“Colt...”
His heart was beating so hard he couldn’t think. “Stop making the goddamn bed.”
She twirled around, her eyes wide. “What?”
“Stop making the goddamn bed. You are not leaving me, Melody Hawkins, and that’s the end of it.”
Her mouth hung open.
He dropped his voice and took a breath. “That’s all I have to do to get you to shut up.” He moved a piece of hair out of her face. “Wish I’d figured that out a while ago.”
She closed her mouth and was silent for an instant. “But—”
He put a finger over her mouth, leaning forward with a stern expression. He removed the finger slowly.
“But—”
“My turn to talk.” He looked away and back. “My dad was a smart man, and he could see something in you. And, though I’m not nearly as smart, even I knew, from the very first time I met you, that you are the brains behind the whole operation.” He had to keep her from running away from him. Without thinking, he pulled her in. She fit against him perfectly. “If you try to leave me Melody Hawkins, I will get in that big ol’ truck of my daddy’s and hunt you down.”
She laughed.
“There. That’s better.” They stood silently. “I need you, Mel.” He laid his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes, breathing more evenly. Then he noticed her shoulders were shaking.
“Hey. What now?”
“That’s exactly what your dad said.” She sobbed. “I miss him so much, Colt. He was like the father my dad could never be for me. He was my best friend.” She straightened. “My only friend.” She stepped out of his arms and moved over to the bedside table to grab a tissue to blow her nose.
“Come on. I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No. You don’t know how lonely it is as a woman on the corporate level.” She waved her arms. “I’m friendly with some of the other girls in the office, but they would never ask me to do anything with them outside of work.” She sat back on the bed. “Anyway, they all think I was sleeping with Ty and keep away from me because of that.”
Colt was quiet. She laid her hands in her lap. “He was always so good to me. So kind and generous...he would tease me and make me laugh...we had so much fun together.” She checked his reaction.
He came and sat next to her. “I miss my dad, too. I wish we could have had the kind of relationship it sounds like you two had together. He was always disappointed in me. I failed him. I went into rock music and...well, it was never the same after that.”
“Oh, no, Colt. You have it all wrong. Ty was so proud of you. He just had trouble telling you that. He would go to your concerts whenever he could and—”
“Nuh-uh. That’s where you’re wrong. He never went to even one of my concerts.”
“Yes, he did. I booked his tickets for him. He would wear a ball cap so no one would recognize him, and the next day he would gush about how good you were. His face would glow like crazy.”
He was there? “But...he never told me. Never came to see me. I never saw him in the audience.”
She took his hands. Her voice was quiet. “I tried to convince him to every time. A couple of times he almost did, but chickened out. Once he even got backstage, but—”
Colt sprang to his feet and paced back and forth. He stopped. “In Memphis.”
“Yes.”
He remembered. He stared up at the ceiling with his hands on his hips. “One of the roadies told me some guy outside was claiming to be my dad. Said he even looked like him. I told him to throw the guy out. My dad never came to my concerts.” He shook his head, still staring skyward. “Damn.” He dropped his gaze and brought his hand to his brow, partially covering his eyes. “Why did I do that?” His voice broke. Knowing his dad was behind him would have made everything so much easier.
She flew to her feet and embraced him. “Oh, Colt.”
He was powerless to stop the tears. It was the first time he had cried since hearing about his dad’s death. He clung to her. He’d been holding himself together for so long. It was a relief to let it out. He had no one to share it with. DJ was a great listener and understood, having lost his dad. But it was against the bro code to really break down. And he certainly couldn’t discuss it with his mom. He had wondered if she’d be different when he got home, affected by his father’s death. But she was as stoic as ever. All about the funeral preparations and what needed to be done for the guests. He even considered opening up to one of the groupies who wandered backstage. But in the end, it wasn’t something he wanted to share with them. With them, it was only about mindless sex. He took a deep breath and collected himself. Pulling away, he drew the back of his hands across his lids.
He sniffed. “Sorry about that.”
“No. Don’t be.”
He walked over and poured himself the rest of the champagne. He took a long drink. Fatigue hit him, and he sat on the bed. “We wasted so much time.”
She came over and squatted in front of him, placing her hands on his knees. “Don’t think of it like that. He loved you so much. And you loved him. That’s all that matters.”
He grunted, playing with a strand of her hair. She was so pretty. “I have another question for you.”
“Oh, great.” She fell back on her tush. “Well, okay. Hit me.”
“Today, at the factory, why did you leave?”
“I...”
“Yes?”
“I...I spotted someone I knew, and I wanted to get out before he saw me.”
He studied her. There was more to this. “Who?”
“Oh, some guy I used to know.”
“Who?”
She huffed out a breath. “Jimmy, okay? The guy who was harassing me the night Ty came into the diner.”
“Harassing you? Like sexually harassing you?”
She shrugged, her gaze anywhere but on him, her knee shaking furiously. “You have to understand. My mom...she had a reputation—one she deserved—of...being with men. Lots of men. Guys expected me to be like her.”
He knew it by the way her cheeks reddened and because she wouldn’t even look at him. That little prick was pressuring her. Making her feel dirty. Making her into something she’s not. The cold fury inside was something new. Without another word, he picked up the house phone and dialed the front desk.
“What...?” She rose to her knees. “What are you doing?”
He held up a hand. “Cheryl? You’re still here? This is Colton Remkus. Can you do me a favor and track down a phone number for me?”
“Who are you calling?”
“Good. George Ratcliffe. R-a-t-c-l-i-f-f-e.”
“Colt? What are you doing?”
He covered the receiver with his hand. “What is this Jimmy’s last name?”
“What?” She seemed confused for a moment, then recognition lit her face. “Oh, no, Colt.”
She swung her hand down to hang up the call but he was quick to block her. “He’s working in my factory.” That’s unacceptable.
“Colt, that was years ago. He—”
“Well I only heard the story a few seconds ago, and I intend to do something about it.” He scrambled in the bedside table drawer and pulled out a pencil and a pad of paper. “What? Two-four-five—”
Melody snatched the receiver from his hand and held him off with an extended arm to his chest. “Yes, hello. Cheryl? Yes, fine honey. Listen, Mr. Remkus had too much to drink.” She eyed him. “He won’t need that phone number. Yes, thank you hon. Have a good night.” She sashayed over and hung up the phone, her posture clearly gloating over her victory. She stood in front of him and he crossed his arms, avoiding her gaze. “Ohh. You’re so cute when you pout.” She had a way of working him.
He fought to keep a straight expression. “I’m not pouting.”
She played with his hair. It felt so damned good. “Oh, come on. Give us a smile,” she coaxed.
He tried to maintain his dignity. “I’m not going to smile, Melody.”
“Give us a smile.” She tickled his rib cage.
In a flash Colt grabbed her by the hips and threw her on the bed, twisting to rise over her. She screamed and fought him, but he trapped her arms over her head. “I’m not going to smile,” he growled, though he was smiling now.
She laughed and squirmed. “Let me up. Let me—” She drew in a breath, her glow of amusement diminishing as she stilled. In an instant, things had changed. The playfulness was gone, replaced by something more.
“No. Not this time.” He voice was husky.
Her lips twitched, and she searched his eyes.
He was right to say he needed her. And the need was keen. Without thinking, he lowered his mouth over hers, releasing her arms. Her mouth was open, so he didn’t need to work. He simply coaxed her tongue with his, seduced her. The kiss was slow, deep, and filled with longing. Her lips were soft, and the way she responded to him created powerful sensations that eclipsed all else.
She buried her hands in his hair and they seemed to become conduits for her need and desire. Could she want him, too? When she pressed her hips up, moving against him, he was instantly hard. He trailed kisses along her jaw and neck. He wanted to possess her. This was something new, beyond sex.
“Oh, Colt.”
The way she said his name drove him wild. Breathy, laced with desire. She moaned and nibbled on his earlobe and the wet sensation shot through him. The yearning for her became almost unbearable.
“Colt.”
Her neck was long and inviting. He pulled her tank strap down. Her shoulders...the juxtaposition of soft skin and hard muscle drove him crazy. Mesmerizing. He could touch her forever.
“Oh, oh. Colt. I don’t feel good.”
What was that? What did she say? His mind stalled. “What?’
“Colt! Get off!” She was beating him with her fists.
He planted a hand on the bed, straightened his arm, and lifted partially off her. She ducked under his arm. “Oh, God. I’m gonna—” She made a gagging noise, putting a hand over her mouth and running for the bathroom.
Colt tried to wrap his mind around the fact she was gone. What the hell just happened...? Oh, shit. The tequila. Pro my ass.
From the sound of things, she barely made it in time. The seat knocked loudly against the back of the toilet and she retched, fluid hitting the water. He stumbled to his feet. “Melody?”
When he got to her, she was short of breath. “Stay out.” She managed to slam the door in his face and then puked again.
He tried the handle, but it was locked. “Come on, Mel. Let me help you.”
“No.” She began to say something else but it was cut off by her violently heaving again. She panted. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” She sounded panicked.
He jerked on the handle again, trying to force his way in somehow. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay.” She retched again and then spit. “Oh, man.”
Colt pounded once on the door with his fist. She was so stubborn. It was no use. He spun and lowered himself to the floor. He drew his knees up and bent over them, running his hands through his hair. Every time she threw up, he gave an answering wince. Geez. How much more could she have inside her? She seized again. I guess she does have more.
After a bit, it became quiet. He sat up, listening intently. She spit some more and then flushed the toilet. She moaned and then he heard water running and the scritch of a tooth brush against teeth. The faucet shut off and it was silent again.
He got up and listened at the crack.
“Mel, honey?”
The door opened and he stepped back. She staggered out, holding onto the jamb. Her eyes were bloodshot, and damp strands of hair clung to her skin. Her ponytail was off kilter.
He reached for her instinctively. “Oh, honey.”
She moaned in response, and he helped her over to the bed, pulling back the covers for her. She flopped on her back, moaning again, her eyes closed. He pulled the covers up and then wondered what else he should do. He sat on the edge of the mattress next to her.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he spoke. “Well. I can honestly say that is the first time a girl had that reaction when I kissed them.”
She laughed and moaned and swatted at him weakly. “It wasn’t you. It was the...” she lifted her lids to squint at the bottle on the bedside table. “...four hundred and twenty milliliters of tequila I swallowed.” She frowned. “Did I really drink both of those?”
He checked the level in the champagne flute. “Pretty close.”
She moaned. “I want to turn over.”
He got up. “Okay.”
She flipped on her stomach, letting her arm drag on the floor. “Ugh.”
“Do you need a trashcan?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
He emptied the contents of the one by the adjoining doors into the bathroom trashcan and brought it to her. The smell of chicken fingers probably wouldn’t be the best for her at this point.
“Thanks,” she said weakly.
He stared at her. “I’m staying in here. In case you need help.”
She grunted in response. He switched the light off over her bed and patted her hair. “Good night.”
Her response was muffled by the pillow. “Night.”
He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and took it off, watching her the whole time. She opened an eye. “Holy shit you have a nice body,” she mumbled then closed her eye.
He snorted then pulled the covers back on his bed and slid in. He loosened his belt buckle, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He lifted his hips and struggled to get his pants off under the covers. Her voice startled him.
“What are you doing?”
He froze. “Taking my pants off.”
“Geez, Colt. I already saw you in your skivvies.”
“You have?”
“Yeah. Me and the majority of women in the world. You did a full-page underwear spread, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. That doesn’t count.”
“It counted for me.”
He wondered what she meant by that. A few seconds elapsed.
She drew a breath. “Underwear spread. That sounds dirty.”
He chuckled and shimmied the rest of his way out of his jeans, kicking them on the floor.
“You out of those pants?”
The corners of his lips lifted as he rolled to lie on his side. “Yes.”
She wasn’t moving a muscle. “Then come over here, mister. I’m going to sex the hell out of you.”
He raised his brows, amused. “You are?”
“Yep,” she breathed. “It’s going to be awesome...” Her voice trailed off.
He laughed. “It is, is it?”
“Yep. Why are you still over there?”
“Because, sweetheart, when I have sex with you, I want you to remember it.”
Her lips twitched. “Ooh!”
He grinned and switched his light off. He flopped on his pillow and sighed. He was...happy. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
Minutes ticked away in the dark. He bent his arms, locking his fingers together and putting his hands beneath his head. He stared at the ceiling with the residual light coming from the bathroom. He thought about the kiss and the way it seeped into his body, warming and awakening every cell.
Her voice floated through the dark. “You’re a tease, Remkus.”
A smile split his face, as he continued to stare at the ceiling. “Go to sleep.” Within minutes, her breathing came in measured tones. He turned and tried to make her out in the murky light, but he couldn’t. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drifting off to sleep.