In Too Deep (18 page)

Chapter
36

             
As I’m finishing putting away all my clothes, I sense movement out of the corner of me eye.

Colt stand
s in the doorway to the girl’s dormitory staring at me.

I jump up. “Hi.” My voice is too eager. I try again. “Hey.”

He smirks at my jumpy response. “Hey.” His voice is smooth, molten and utterly sexy. God I’ve missed him way more than is rationally healthy.

I walk closer, sensing he won’t enter the dorm. I stand
in front of him just inside the doorway.

“So
… about that date.” He smiles a cocky lopsided grin down at me.

I wait, breathless, my heart galloping.

“Can you be ready in an hour?” His voice is just a whisper.

I nod.

“Good. Meet me at the front door. One hour.” He brings one finger to my lips and presses it there for a brief moment. A promise of a kiss later, I can’t help but think. He drops his hand slowly.

I nod
again, sure I’ve completely forgotten how to speak.

As soon as Colt’s gone, I snap to attention, grabbing my bathroom bag,
making sure I have a razor and then dash down the hallway toward the showers.

Fifty-five minutes later, I’ve showered, shaved my legs and underarms, dried and straightened my hair, talked MJ into doing my makeup and am dressed in dark jeans, ballet flats and a fitted
blue top that MJ says makes my eyes pop. The top is cut in a deeper neckline than I’d normally wear, but I like it and am grateful to MJ for loaning me clothes and helping me, even though I know she’s doesn’t approve of my date.

I thank
her, grab my purse and dash down the stairs. I make myself slow down and navigate the steps carefully, not wanting to stumble and embarrass myself in front of sex god, Colt Palmer.

When I reach the bottom, Colt’
s waiting in the entryway, leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me expectantly.

His eyes are soft, full of wonder as he drinks me in.
I make myself go the last few steps to him. He’s also wearing dark jeans, I note and a button down white shirt. His skin is tan, and healthy. His hair is perfectly disheveled and his eyes dance on mine.
God he’s incredible.
Breathe, Taylor.

We’re both quiet as Colt helps me into the BMW, which has conveniently been pulled up and parked outside the front doors.
His fingertips graze the small of my back as he tucks me safely into the car. I resume breathing once he closes my door. There’s an obvious chemistry between us and I can tell we’re both aware of it.

I breathe in. I’d forgotten the scent of his car.
Pure Colt. Clean male with a trace of spicy cologne. It makes my knees weak. I clamp my thighs together and focus on breathing.

“Pick out some music.” Colt hands me his mp3 player.

I scroll through the songs and chose something I’ve never heard of. “Grouplove?” I ask.

“It’s more than just music. It’s a lifestyle.” He cracks a sideways grin.

I chuckle as the music starts. Its seductive thrumming beats in time with my heart. “You have interesting tastes, Mr. Palmer.”

He sh
oots me a warning glance, then shakes his head. He finds my hand and gives it a squeeze, the hard look on his face falling away. “You are a sassy little thing, aren’t you?”

I don’t answer. Instead I loose myself in the beat of the music, the warmth of Colt’s hand around mine, the smooth motion of the car as we race down the highway.
So far this date equals perfection.

Colt pulls up to a fancy yet understated restaurant and parks right in front. He climbs out, tossing his keys to the valet, who catches them with a look of surprise. Then Colt’s at my door, opening it and pulling me up to him. His eyes are playful, but he quickly releases me, keeping one hand on my
lower back as he guides me to the door.

We’re led to a table in the back corner, where it’s dim and quiet. The table is covered in crisp white linen and a small votive candle burns in the center. It’s romantic
without being overly done.

Colt
pulls out my seat for me, and I slide down into it. So far he’s been a perfect gentleman. If I didn’t already know to be weary about his past, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it after seeing his behavior tonight.

I take a moment to survey our surroundings. The restaurant has exposed brick walls, tall ceilings open to the heating ducts above and a rustic stone fire place at its center.

When my eyes find Colt’s he’s openly watching me. I blush under his steady scrutiny, wondering what on earth he could be thinking about when he looks at me like that. 

“What?” I ask.

“You look beautiful tonight.” His eyes stay locked on mine, making my breath catch.

I look down. “Thank you.”

Luckily, the waitress arrives to save me. She’s tall, slender, blonde and pretty. Her eyes drift hungrily over Colt while my stomach clenches with jealousy.  I wait for her to address him by name, assuming he brings all his dates here. But she doesn’t.

She takes our drink orders.
Sparkling water for him, Diet Coke for me.

“So y
ou must bring all your dates here.” I fumble with my straw.

His brows knit together. “No. I’ve never brought a date here.”

Oh
.

“We used to come here for my mom’s birthday every year.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table.  “That was the tradition in my family. Who’s ever birthday it wa
s got to choose. She always chose here. I haven’t been here in years.” He glances toward the front of the restaurant, his mouth turning down a touch. “She liked to sit up there though.” He nods toward the windows. “I thought that might be too strange.” He rubs his chin, thoughtfully.

“Oh.”
I’m shocked he brought me here. This place is very special to him. It must conjure up all kinds of memories. I have the urge to lean closer and take his hand, but I don’t.

“Your
curiosity satisfied?” he asks, leaning back in his chair once again.

I nod.
I feel ashamed for thinking the worst of Colt –assuming that he was closely acquainted with our waitress, when in reality he brought me somewhere he used to go with his mother.

We share a
delicious meal that Colt orders. And even though we’re stuffed, he orders tiramisu, convincing me I’ll like it even though I don’t like coffee. I do. It’s delicious and so is the way his eyes widen when I lick the cream from my spoon.

After dinner he takes me to the beach and points at a lighthouse in the distance. “Are you up for walking there?”

I nod eagerly and slip off my shoes. He takes the ballet flats from me, remarking how little they are and tucks them into his back pocket. He removes his shoes too, letting them dangle from one hand. I look down. Naked feet. Even his feet are hot. Long and narrow.

We set off walking down the beach as the sun set
s. In the sun it would have been too hot, but now the air is perfect. Crisp, with a light breeze. It’s the perfect summer night. We walk in silence, just the sound of crashing waves as our backdrop.

“How do you know about this place?” I ask. “Is this another place your mom liked?”

Without meaning to, we’ve been chatting casually about her off and on throughout the night. His eyes grow soft whenever he speaks of her.

“No.” His answer is quick – to the point. “When I was in high school, we used to have parties on this beach and sneak off to the lighthouse with girls.” He grins at me guiltily.

“Oh I’m sure you never did anything like that, Colt,” I feign surprise. “I’m sure you were a perfect gentleman.”

“Are you kidding me? I practically invented it.” 

When we reach the lighthouse, he expertly pops the padlock on the door and holds it open for me.

“I was giving you an out,” I say.

“I know.” He grins. “But I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you. You already know about me and yet you can’t seem to stay away.” He leans closer, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear. “You’ve fallen for my irresistible charm.”

I laugh, my breath catching in my chest.
“Hardly.”

His face falls and he studies me, trying to see if I’m joking.

I step past him into the narrow stairwell. “I hang around because someday soon you’ll knock someone up or come home with a disease and you’ll need someone level headed and mature,” I gesture to myself, “to pick up the pieces.”

He shakes his head at me, but doesn’t dispute it.

I climb up the steep stairs, trailing my fingers along the narrow walls as we advance toward the top. I stumble a few times in the darkness and Colt’s strong hands find my hips, steadying me each time. His touch makes my pulse jump.

When we reach the top, all my senses are humming, the salty seawater smell, the rich wood inside the lighthouse, my breathlessness from the climb up
, Colt’s hands innocently on me in the darkness.

Chapter 37

Once we reach the top of the lighthouse,
Taylor goes to the large windows and looks out at the dark water. I go and stand behind her, placing my hands carefully on her shoulders and begin to rub, massaging her neck.

She tilts her
head to the side, giving me better access. Her body responds to my lightest touch and that knowledge stirs something inside me.

I lift her hair from her back and arrange
it gently over her shoulder. Taylor’s amazing scent wafts up to meet me, filling my senses. I want to lean down and taste her neck, to see if it’s as sweet as it smells. But of course I don’t. I can’t rush her.

My fingers continue kneadin
g her tense neck and shoulders and she relaxes into me. Good girl.

Her breath hitches in her chest and she lets out a soft murmur. “That feels amazing.”

My entire body clenches with want for her.

“Good,” I whisper in her hair, unable to stop myself from leaning closer
to breathe her in. Her warm, sugary smell of vanilla reminds me of baking with my mom. She used it in everything. Carefully measured teaspoons added to chocolate chip cookie dough, or droplets of the rich fragrant liquid added to creamy pancake batter. Dark whirling against the light as I stirred it in. An errant thought lingers. The contrast of dark and light. Me and my fucked up background contrasting with Taylor’s sweet innocence.

After a few minutes more, I drop my hands. She turns
to face me, confusion in her eyes. She’s wondering why I stopped touching her. Perfect. I want her to want more from me.

But when I look into her eyes,
I can see she’s at war with herself. She doesn’t want to like me, yet she’s drawn to me like a moth to a flame. An awareness of not wanting to hurt her tugs at me, but I quickly push it away.

“Hey.” I take her face in my hands, cradling her jaw and trace my thumb across her pouting lower lip.

She sucks in a breath and bites into her bottom lip, driving me wild with desire.

Several things happen at once: I pull her body against mine and
she moans in relief, I tangle my hands in her hair, tipping her head to meet my mouth, then I wait her out, our lips barely touching.

I watch her eyes fall closed and she lifts up on her toes, closing the distance between us. She wants this. My heart swells.
She wants me. She brings her mouth to mine. The kiss is soft, yet not entirely innocent. She teases my mouth open with her tongue, wanting more. And I am more than happy to oblige.

Taylor is a good kisser.
Too good. Kissing alone shouldn’t have this effect on me, yet it does. My entire body stands at attention, lapping up every ounce of her. Our tongues meet, tangling, tasting, exploring in the darkness.

A loud fog horn interrupts us. She pulls back, breathing heav
ily and looks up at me. We stare at each other for a few seconds, then she laughs nervously and tips her head down.

“Well that was…interesting,” she says.

“Interesting good or interesting bad?” I ask, lifting her chin to make her look at me.

“Interesting
good,” she breaths, her eyes on mine.

I trace her bottom lip with my thumb, unable to stop
myself from touching her. It’s still damp from our kiss.

The fog horn blasts again somewhere out on the dark water. I never knew this place was so
damn loud, but maybe it’s just that I don’t like anything competing with my attention for her.

I need to get her out of here.
Now. Otherwise, I’ll take her right here on the wood floor of this old lighthouse, and though it wouldn’t be my first time doing so, I’m pretty sure Taylor is a virgin, and she deserves better.

I step back from her and notice her face fall at my lack of attention “Come on. Let’s go.” I pull her hand toward the stairs.