Page 11 of Colt’s Betrayal

“Then what was I supposed to do, Jayne? Fight you until you changed your mind?”

“No. But I asked if we could still be friends. You said yes, and then you just disappeared.”

His face hardens. “Because we couldn't be friends.”

“You could've told me that.”

“I was twenty-two and trying not to make what you were already doing any harder.”

“What I was doing?”

“Leaving me.”

The words land harder than they should. “I wasn't leaving because I stopped loving you.”

“I know that now.”

I look at him carefully. “But you didn't know it back then?”

“You told me you couldn't live with the club. Couldn't spend your life waiting for somebody to tell you I'd been killed. You were nineteen, Jayne. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Tell you your fear didn't matter because I wanted you?”

Colt drags one hand over his beard. “I didn't want us to end.” My chest tightens so fast it hurts, but he keeps looking at me.

“I thought if I loved you, I had to let you make the decision that was right for you. So I did.”

“And then you disappeared.”

“Because watching you move on would've fucking destroyed me.”

I stare at him. Twelve years rearrange themselves in the space of one sentence. Every time I wondered why he hadn't called. Every birthday where I'd thought maybe this year. Every stupid moment when someone mentioned Kingdom Come and I'd pretended my first thought wasn't Colt. All those years telling myself I'd mattered less to him than he had to me.

“You could've told me.”

“Yeah.”

“That's it?”

“What do you want me to say? I was twenty-two and fucking stupid.”

A laugh breaks out of me, except my eyes suddenly burn. Colt notices and he closes the space between us.

“I wasn't okay with it. Never have been.”

I swallow hard.

“Neither was I.”

His hand lifts to my face. This time there is no hesitation before he kisses me. Neither of us has any left. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer, and the sound he makes against my mouth is rough enough to send heat straight through me. His hands settle on my hips, then slide around to my ass and drag me against him.

The hard press of him between us wipes out whatever thought I might have had about slowing this down. I kiss him harder. He backs me into the wall again, only this time neither of us pretends we're stopping at kissing.

His mouth moves down my neck while his hands slide beneath my top, rough palms finding bare skin. I tip my head back, breathing his name when his thumbs brush the underside of my breasts.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I've had twelve years to stop wanting you.”

His eyes lift to mine. “Didn't work?” I shake my head. “Not even a little.” Something inside him breaks. His mouth takes mine again, and I push his cut off his shoulders because I need less leather between us. It hits the floor behind him. My hands go under his t-shirt.