Page 55 of Colt

“Maybe you really are a coward,” I say, because apparently I have a death wish. For my career at least, because I think I’m about to hook up with my boss. Coworker. Whatever.

Colton grunts. Next thing I know, I hear the metallic click of his belt being unbuckled.

Oh my God, this is happening. Oh my God.

I watch, heart in my throat, as Colton steps back and unzips his jeans. He reaches inside his briefs and pulls himself out.

I swear to Christ my vital organs quit functioning at that moment. There are big dicks. Pretty dicks. But in my admittedly limited experience, dicks are rarely both.

Colton’s is big and pretty. His shaft is thick and velvety-looking. His head is a light shade of pink and just wide enough to make my blood jump.

What would he feel like inside me? Would it hurt? Would I like that?

He gives himself a lazy, indulgent tug, drawing a barely visible bead of precum out of his tip. I lick my lips.

“I already offered you that,” he says, pumping his hand a little faster.

I squeeze my legs together to ease the soaring ache between them. I’m soaked. Still, I find myself saying, “Cowboy, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

His green eyes flash. “I’m big, but I ain’t that big.” The sinews in his neck pop against his skin as he works himself harder. Faster.

“You gonna make yourself come, thinking about me?” I breathe. “What I’d do to you if I were willing to touch you? Taste you?”

“Fuck,” he growls, “you.”

“I feel like we’ve been saying that a lot to each other.”

His hips jerk. “Not enough.”

I laugh. “Are you going to come already? I took you for a real cowboy. One who has stamina.”

He takes a step forward, looming over me. “You don’t shut that mouth, I’m gonna shove my dick down your throat.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Although in all honesty, I am very turned on by the thought of him doing exactly that.

His turn to laugh. “Don’t forget, you’re the one who’s cuffed.”

“I’m also the one calling the shots.” I tip up my chin.

“Take them off,” he growls, pumping his hand harder. “They’re not locked.”

“I know,” I say with a smile.

“Take them off,” he says through gritted teeth. “Bet—I bet you’re as close as I am. Prove me wrong.”

My eyelashes flutter. He’s playing this game with me. An almost enthusiastic participant even.

The brimming need in me spills over.

It’s easy for me to slip off the cuffs considering Colton didn’t lock or tighten them. They’re heavy in my hand. Begging to be used again.

Looking up at Colton, I bite my lip.

My body moves before my brain does. I’m grabbing his hands. I’m pulling them behind his back, our faces an inch apart.

He leans in for a kiss at the same moment as I wrap the cuffs around his wrists.

I immediately pull back, shaking my head. “No.”