I jolt in surprise when we turn the corner and Sammy is standing there. “Hi, Sammy,” I say shyly, for once again he’s seeing me in my Colton-induced path to indecency. He nods at me, his face remaining stoic as he hands a set of keys out to Colton.

“Thanks. All clear?” Colton asks.

“All clear,” Sammy nods before stepping onto the elevator car.

“Come,” Colton commands as he pulls my hand so I land against him forcefully before his lips meet mine again in a greedy kiss. I push him back momentarily despite his protests and glance around at our surroundings to make sure we don’t have an unsuspecting audience. My eyes focus immediately on a sexy-as-sin, sleek, red sports car in the far corner. I’m not really into cars, but all I know is that if that’s her name? It most definitely fits her.

When I pull my eyes away from the car, I’m surprised to find the monochromatic garage completely vacant. “How’d…?” Colton just smirks at me with that it’s good to be me kind of smirk and I shake my head. “Sammy?”

“Mmm-hmm.” His hand roams up my waist and cups my breast through my dress. I exhale a soft moan at the muted sensation, wanting his body, naked and moving, on mine. In mine.

“Oh, Colton…” I sigh, turning into putty in his hands as his finger dips beneath the fabric. “That man needs a raise,” I murmur as we pseudo-walk, pseudo-grope each other across the desolate garage. Colton laughs loudly at my comment, the sound mixed with the click of my heels echoing off of the walls. I push away the niggling feeling in my head that I wonder just what else Sammy has seen under Colton’s employment. That was the past. His past.

And now, he’s my future. All that matters now is that Colton’s willing to try.

We reach the car, relief that we can get out of here flooding through me. Right now I’m being selfish. I’m not thinking about the gala below or my charity or anything. All I can focus on is the feelings coursing through me. The ones I need met as I steer our bodies toward the passenger side.

But Colton stands still—doesn’t budge—just keeps my hand in his, our arms outstretched from the connection. I look over at him, his eyes trailing over the front of his car and then looking back to me. The lascivious smirk that turns up the corners of his mouth rocks my world off its balance. “Uh-uh,” he tells me, confusion filling me.

What? Now he doesn’t want to…oh… Oh! Oh fuck!

He recognizes the minute I understand his intention. “You. Here. ” He points to the sleek, red hood of his car. I blush and hesitate, remembering my off the cuff comment in Starbucks that now feels likes years ago about how I wanted to take him on the hood of his car.

“Now!” He growls.

Me and my big mouth. I glance around and swallow before my eyes come back to meet his. Always back to his. “Here?”

“Here.” He smirks as a thrill chases through me. “I’m gonna corrupt you yet.”

“But…”

“Don’t question it, Rylee. If you obey all the rules, baby, you miss all of the fun.” Only Colton could quote Hepburn at a time like this and make it sound seductively sexy.

His eyes dance with the thrill of what we are about to do. There is no way in hell that I am going to pass up the chance to be with him. After everything tonight—the limo, the buildup of anticipation, the fact that he’ll try—wild horses couldn’t drag me away.

I don’t even have a moment to be concerned with our location because he grabs me and brands his lips to mine. I can taste his desire. His hunger. His impatience. His willingness. Their mixture is a heady combination that sends chills up my spine and causes goose bumps to cover my skin as he leads me backwards. Our lips part only for him to whisper the naughty promises of what he wants to do to me.

How hard he’s going to fuck me. How loud he wants me to scream. How many times he plans on making me come. How insanely beautiful I am. How he craves the taste me.

The backs of my knees hit the front bumper of the car, and he slips his jacket off of my shoulders. He takes the jacket and lays it inside out on the hood of his car behind me as I fumble with the zipper on his pants, my dexterity ruined by the liquid heat that fills me.

“Hurry,” he demands, his voice laced with anguished need.

I laugh, hysterics tingeing the sound from my desperation. His hands still as he pulls back from our close proximity and looks into my eyes. A moment of calm amidst our storm of need. He reaches up and runs his fingers down my cheek, a smile of disbelief on his face and a look in his eyes—one that says he can’t believe I’m real. That this is real. He shakes his head and his mouth curls up to one side, his dimple winking. And with his eyes locked on mine, he runs his hand back to my hair and fists it, angling my head to the side, exposing the curve of my neck.

And then need and desire take over as he lowers his mouth to that expanse of bare skin. The feelings, the sensations, the emotions pull me under, consume me.

My eyes close. My body softens and heats up simultaneously. I feel Colton pulse against my hands and they spring to life, finally working so I can pull his pants down far enough to release his engorged length. He hisses out an incoherent litany in appreciation as my fingers encircle him and dance over his heated flesh.

“Rylee. Please. Now.” He pants between open mouth kisses. My hands continue their pleasurable torture as I feel Colton’s hand bunch the length of my dress up until his hands are beneath it, cupping my bare ass in both of his hands.

I feel the warmth of Colton’s fingertips as they part my legs, and I tense, knowing that his touch is all I’ll need to push me over the edge. His fingers smooth across my skin, and his deft fingers find their destination, making me cry out as they tease and torment.

My nails dig into his shoulders as my legs start shaking from the mounting pressure within me. “Colton.” I breathe as pleasure rakes over me, a low keening in the back of my throat the only other sound I can make as he pushes me higher and higher. His mouth catches mine again as I throw my head up, the heat from his skillful fingertips ripping through me and searing every imaginable nerve in my body. My fire ignites as he slips two fingers in to invade the depths of my sex with one hand while the other grips my hip possessively. Fervent fingers digging into willing flesh. I’m so worked up—so on the cusp—that it doesn’t take long until I crash over the edge into a rapturous free fall.

All of the anticipation, flirting, highs, and lows from the night intensify the mix of sensations that splinter through me. Colton brings a hand up to cup my neck with one hand, his thumb resting just under my chin as my eyes flutter open. The simple brush of his thumb there is like adding gasoline to a roaring fire. My body tenses again as another ripple of pleasure pulses through me, all the while his gaze on mine.

Colton’s eyes flicker and flame with lust as he watches me regain some semblance of equilibrium from the earth he just helped to move beneath my feet. Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, Colton’s control snaps, and he pushes me back on to his jacket on the cool, polished metal of his hood. He grabs my hips, pushing my dress up so I am clothed from the waist up and bare from the waist down, except for garters and stockings. He lifts my hips up to meet the height of his so that just my shoulders and neck are resting on the cool silk of his jacket.

His eyes roam over my bared flesh. “Sweet Christ, woman,” his voice husky with desire murmurs as I close my eyes to revel in the need he’s about to fill because even though I’ve come, my body is aching so desperately to have him in me, filling me, and stretching me to sublime satisfaction. “Open your eyes, Rylee,” he commands as he places his steely head at my entrance. I gasp at the feeling, needing more. Always needing more and never being able to get enough of him. “I want to watch you while I take you. I want to see those eyes of yours turn hazy with desire.”

My eyes flash open to lock on his. My mouth goes dry from the absolute lust reflected in them. In this moment, the calm before the storm, I am irrevocably his.

I cry out in unison with his guttural groan as he enters me in one slick thrust, holding himself deep as he grinds his hips against my pelvis. The heels of my shoes dig into his backside as I tense at his invasion, my slick channel clenching onto him with every swivel of his hips. “Oh, Rylee.” He grunts, his head thrown back, lips parted, and face pulled tight with pleasure.

He starts moving now. Really moving. Fitting himself to me—in me—so that each drive devastates my senses. All I can do is absorb the impossible sensations he draws out of me with each thrust, ride out the blistering onslaught with him.

The jacket beneath me serves as a slide of sorts. With each drive I glide back and up the hood, only to be pulled back onto him to start the delicious descent and thrust back up all over again. The motion causes a myriad of overwhelming sensations that only serves to coax my orgasm to come faster. Harder. Quicker.

My muscles clench around him as I lift my head to watch our union. To see my arousal coating him as he withdraws from me before plunging back in. And the sight of what I do to him, of what he does to me, is unbelievably hot. “Colton,” I moan in a stilted breath as one of his fingertips grazes over my clit. My body shudders from his touch.

“You. Are. Mine. Rylee,” he growls between thrusts. “Tell. Me. Tell me you’re mine, Rylee,” he demands.