I giggle and bite my bottom lip. “Yeah, I bloody did.”
“Well, you, Miss Norman, are beginning to sound like a right snob using big words that people like me from Croydon couldn’t possibly understand,” he says with a giant smirk. I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. He leans down, kissing me punishingly, pushing me back onto the hood of his car.
“Colt. Whatever will they think of you if they see you kissing me on top of a car?” I ask, speaking as poshly as I can muster.
“Well, I don’t know, but imagine what they’d think about this then,” he says, lifting me onto the hood and kissing my neckwhile gyrating his hips like he’s dry-humping me. I laugh as I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. We’re now lying on the car’s hood with him on top of me, making out like there’s no tomorrow.
Eventually, we separate, and Colt pulls me from the car.
I think we have given them a show they won’t soon forget.
Then we get in, driving away from Norman Manor for, hopefully, the last time.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hux is out for the night, so Colt and I are making full use of the free living room. He’s stretched out at one end of the couch, and I’m lying with my head in his lap while he absentmindedly runs his fingers through my hair. I now see why Hux is obsessed with this couch because I’m falling in love with it too. It’s ridiculously comfortable, and with Colt humming along to the movie playing on the television, everything feels effortless, like it’s meant to be.
Then, the front door swings open. Laughter spills into the house—high-pitched, tipsy, and unmistakably feminine—followed by Hux’s voice bragging about some circus trick he can do.
Whatever the hell that means.
A moment later, they stumble into the living room, and Colt stiffens beneath me. Hux has his arms draped around two leggy blondes, both of whom stare at us like we don’t belong. Hux clocks my position, and I sit up, shifting beside Colt to make room.
Big mistake.
The blonde closest to me shoots a smug glance before squeezing herself between Hux and me, nudging me aside in the process. Colt doesn’t hesitate. With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he grips my hips and effortlessly lifts me onto his lap. I let out a startled squeal, my hands flying to his shoulders for balance.
Blonde number one now has all the room she could ever want. But judging by the way her lips press into a thin line, she doesn’t seem too happy about it.
“So, who are you, and do you need to be here?” she says, locking eyes with me.
I freeze, caught off guard by her bluntness.
“That woman is practically my sister-in-law, so if you want to be here, then leave Dee alone. You got it?” Hux states, smiling at me.
Wow. I always thought Hux hated me.
His words land like a curveball, knocking me off balance. Suspicion flickers in my chest as I study his expression, searching for any hidden malice. But his smile, while not exactly warm, lacks the usual edge I’ve come to expect from him.
So, why is he being nice now?
The shift unsettles me. I’m not sure whether to trust it or brace for whatever game he’s playing.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” she says, pulling a small baggie from her cleavage.
Of course, it contains a white powder, and Hux smiles. He leans in, kissing her, then snatches the bag from her hand. I can’t cover my shock as she growls, pretending to be a dog, then giggles. Turning to look away, I notice blonde number two’s hand is heading in a direction I donotwant to see.
Ew! This is too much.
Turning my attention to Colt, whose eyes are glassy and brows furrowed, I follow his line of sight, which is zeroed in on his brother. Hux leans over, pulling the coffee table toward him, and empties what I am sure is cocaine onto its surface. Uncomfortable with everything happening right before me, I lean into Colt’s chest. He’s breathing quickly, and his heart thumps rapidly with such force I can feel it against me.
I flip my gaze back to him. He’s eyeing the powder and roughly swallows like he has a lump in his throat. Nervous, I bite my bottom lip because I’m pretty sure the look of desire is burning in Colt’s eyes. It’s a look Idon’tlike when it’s not for me.
After Hux sorts the powder into three lines, he looks to Colt. “C’mon, bro. You know you want some?”
Colt’s hands grip my hips tighter.
“Hux, c’mon,” I plead. “Leave him alone.”
