He wasn’t ready to let go. Not now. Maybe not ever.
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Chapter Sixteen
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Brenna woke to soft morning light filtering through gauzy curtains, casting golden streaks across a room that felt unfamiliar and intimate all at once. For a breathless moment, she didn’t move. She simply listened to the quiet hum of silence, felt the warmth of the body curled around hers, the rise and fall of Colt’s chest against her back.
She was naked, tangled in the sheets and in Colt’s arms, their bodies pressed close, skin to skin. The scent of him clung to her, a mix of clean sweat, soap from the shower, and something unmistakably his. Their clothes lay scattered across the floor, a silent reminder of everything that had unraveled between them the night before.
A flicker of regret stirred in her chest, sharp and fleeting. She could have chased it down, let it grow into doubt. But she didn’t. Instead, a quiet stillness settled inside her, something dangerously close to peace. A tenderness she hadn’t expected wound through her chest like a thread.
This had needed to happen.
Not just the sex, not just the aching, breathless way they had reached for each other. It was the closeness. The surrender. The way she had clung to him like he was the only thing strong enough to hold her together after two days of chaos, adrenaline, and memories that refused to stay buried.
He had been there. Steady. Real.
And last night, he had been her escape.
Beside her, Colt stirred. His movement was slow, unhurried, the stretch of a man with nowhere to be but here. His arm slid more firmly around her waist, pulling her back into the solid wall of his chest. When she glanced over her shoulder, she found him watching her through sleep-heavy eyes.
Then came that smile. Lazy. Crooked. Devastating.
It slipped through her defenses and sent a slow pulse of heat spiraling down her spine.
Damn him.
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough and heavy with sleep, the kind of sound that wrapped around her and settled deep in her chest.
Brenna didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Words felt unnecessary in this fragile hush between them, where everything real had already been spoken without sound. Instead, she leaned in as he brushed his lips over hers, soft and warm, a kiss that felt more like a promise than a greeting.
The kiss lingered, unhurried, and somewhere in the quiet exchange, it deepened. Neither of them meant for it to. It just happened, like a spark catching dry tinder. A slow burn that flared into something hotter, something that refused to be ignored.
Colt’s hand found her side, his fingers trailing along her skin with a careful reverence that made her breath hitch. The roughness of his touch, the contrast of calluses against softness, sent a shiver down her spine. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, heat blooming low in her belly, molten and unmistakable.
It wasn’t just desire. It was something more dangerous. Something tethered to everything they hadn’t said.
Brenna pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “We’re not doing this again, are we?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
He gave a half-smile, eyes still locked on hers. “I think we already are.”
She didn’t stop him. Couldn’t. The world outside the room could wait. For now, she was where she needed to be.
Colt’s phone rang, sharp and jarring in the quiet room.
They both cursed. And glanced at the time. It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet.
He let out a groan and dropped his head back against the pillow. “Of course.”
Brenna sighed. “We can’t ignore it.”
It could be anything. A lead. A body. More chaos.
She really hoped it wasn’t another body.
Still naked, Colt climbed out of bed, giving her an amazing peepshow. His body moved like he was built for war and pleasure, and she’d had both from him last night. Her skin warmed at the memory.
