Protected by Him (3 page)

He was faster then me, though, and those long legs of his were able to keep up with me easily. “Where are you going?” he demanded.

“Away from you.”

“Olivia, would you stop for one fucking second? You’re bleeding.”

I looked down to see he was right. There were streams of blood sliding down my wrists and staining the sleeves of my shirt.

“I don’t care.” I yanked the fabric down, trying to press the material against my cuts to stop them from bleeding. “Do you know what you’ve done to me? My life is ruined because of you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this!” I reached into my bag and pulled out the card that Caleb had given me. I waved it around. “The FBI, Colt.” It was fucked up, but I enjoyed watching the look of anger and confusion that began to cloud his face. “Yup, that’s right,” I said. “They’re looking into Loose Cannons. And they said if I don’t help them, they’re going to come after me.”

The whole thing was so surreal it was ridiculous, and I began to laugh and cry at the same time, and then I was running again, running and running and Colt let me go all the way down the hill, even though I could hear him behind me, catching up to me easily, and when I got to the end of the street, I almost ran onto the main street, almost ran right into traffic.

That’s when he grabbed me from behind, around the waist, and picked me up off the ground, lifting me easily, like I was a feather. I elbowed him in the ribs as hard as I could, but he held me steady.

I elbowed him again, and then I started to kick him, but my kicks were ineffectual against him, he was so strong and big and he just didn’t care.

“Olivia,” he kept saying. “Olivia. Olivia, please, Olivia.”

He let me struggle and thrash for another minute or so and then there was no more hysterical laughing, I was just crying, the kind of crying that once you started was almost impossible to stop, and he set me down and I turned around and my head was on his chest and he was smoothing my hair with his hand. “Shhh,” he said. “Shhh, baby, you’re okay. It’s okay.”

But I wasn’t okay.

I was never going to be okay again.

“Colt,” I said, and my knees were weak. “Colt, he was… he wasn’t…”

“Shh,” he whispered soothingly, and his hands were still smoothing my hair.

“It was all a lie,” I whispered. “Everything I thought, it was all just a big lie.”

And then he was wiping my tears with his thumbs, and he was leaning in close to me, and then somehow his lips were on my skin, kissing my tears off my cheeks, forehead, my chin.

The whole time I was still sad and devastated and I couldn’t believe it about Declan, couldn’t believe that this whole time everything I’d thought would save me wasn’t real.

But underneath that crushing disappointment, the emotion that welled up and overtook it was relief.

Relief and happiness.

Happiness that Colt was here.

I pushed my body into his and he pulled back and looked deep into my eyes and then he was kissing me again, this time on my lips, and his kiss was getting hotter and more insistent, and I wanted to drown myself in his touch.

My nails dug into his back and I was pushing myself into him, and I could feel my body igniting into a flame, that’s how badly I wanted to lose myself in him.

He pulled back and his chest was heaving.

“Colt,” I whispered. “What am I going to do?”

His answer was immediate. “You’re going to come home with me.”

T
he car ride
back to Colt’s apartment was silent, controlled.

I stared out the window, not crying, not laughing, not upset, not happy, not anything.

I was numb.

Once we arrived at his apartment, Colt closed the door and locked it behind him, then tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter.

His eyes slid down my body to my wrists. My cuts had stopped bleeding, but the bandages hung in tatters around my wrists. Colt disappeared down the hallway and returned with a washcloth. He ran it under the warm water and then he washed the dried blood off my skin, pulling the ruined bandages off and tossing them into the garbage.

My cuts were still raw, but they were already heading, the new skin already starting to form over the wounds.

“You need to eat something.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”

“You’ve been through a lot today.”

“I don’t need food,” I whispered, and I raised my eyes to his, and I felt myself falling into his eyes, tumbling over and over, not caring about anything but him.

He knew what I wanted.

I could tell from the look on his face that was wrestling with it inside of himself.

I wanted to fuck. I wanted him inside of me, wanted him pushing into me, taking me, making me forget.

But he was struggling with the implications of that, of what he could give me, of what he could promise me. He didn’t want to hurt me anymore than he already had.

What he didn’t understand was that if he didn’t take me, if he didn’t kiss me and fuck me and take over my body, then he would be hurting me even more.

I didn’t need a promise from him.

I needed a release.

And he was the only one who could give it to me.

“Fuck, Olivia,” he said, and then he was crossing the room to me and he was pushing up against me, pushing my back against the counter, the same way he’d done that morning, but this time he wasn’t teasing, he wasn’t pretending, he wasn’t doing it just to torture me.

This time I could tell he was going to finish what he started.

He cupped my chin in his hand and rubbed the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “You want to fuck, baby?” he murmured, and I loved it, loved the sexy way he was talking to me, loved the dirty words he was saying.

They pulsed through me, his touch, his words, scorching my veins and making me feel alive in a way no one else ever had.

I nodded.

“Say it then.”

“I want to fuck.”

He licked his bottom lip and then he swallowed, and I could see his Adam’s apple bob and a his jawline hardened and then he was pushing into me again, and this time he was grinding on me, his cock already hard through his pants.

He kissed me, his tongue in my mouth, his hands in my hair, the two of us tangling together.

When he pulled away, his dark eyes were a raging storm, and there was no more indecision there, no more struggling with whether or not what he was about to do was right.

Instead, he led me to his bedroom.

Once we were there, he kissed me again, his hands snaking down to my ass and lifting me up and then throwing me down onto his bed.

He stripped off his t-shirt and my body flooded with overwhelming desire as I looked at him, every muscle sculpted, his abs washboard perfect.

And then he came to me, his hands sliding up my shirt, tugging it off, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling those off too, leaving me in just my bra and panties.

“God, you are so fucking sexy, baby,” he breathed. He was on top of me completely now, straddling me around the waist, his strong thighs pinning me down. He tugged the cups of my bra down until my tits popped out, his index finger tracing the hard peaks and causing me to gasp.

“Take my dick out, baby.”

I reached up and undid his jeans, pulling down the waistband of his boxers and letting his hard cock out.

“Good girl. “ He took my hand in his and placed it on his dick, showing me how to stroke him, how to make him feel good. I liked the way he felt in my hand, hard and thick.

“Like that?” I whispered. It wasn’t completely dark in his room, but the light was off, and I was thankful he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks

“Just like that, Olivia. Good girl, baby, stroke my cock just like that.”

His words and the feel of his dick in my hand set me on fire, making me so hot I felt like I was boiling from the inside out.

Colt pulled me up toward him and kissed me while I stroked him, his tongue taking me, owning me, claiming me, making me forget that anything existed except for him and this moment.

He reached around and unhooked my bra, letting my breasts spill out of their cups completely and sucking my nipples into his mouth as I stroked him. I gasped as his lips and tongue pulled me into his mouth, the fiery inferno that burned through my body taking up residence wherever he touched, sucked, pushed.

He stripped off his jeans and boxers and then laid his body on top of mine, his broad shoulders and ripped pecs covering me like a blanket. I could feel his cock right on the outside of my panties and I wanted him inside of me, wanting to feel that push/pull as he entered me.

“Fuck me,” I begged.

He gave me a cocky grin, his hand skating down the side of body until he got to my hip, his grip tightening around my waist as he pulled me into him and held me close against him, the only thing separating his hard shaft from my pussy the thin material of my panties.

“You want my dick, baby?” he demanded.

I nodded and tried to arch against him, but his hand stayed firm, not letting me move, showing me he was in total control. Then he rolled me over until I was on top of him and his hands found my shoulders and he pushed me down, down past his chest and to his hips.

He took my hand and put it on his dick, then took the head of his cock and brushed it over my lips.

“I’ve never…”

“It’s okay, baby,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

He pushed the tip of his dick into my mouth, and the taste of him was foreign and unfamiliar, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but then Colt groaned and the sight of him leaning back, his body so built and perfect, the clench of his abs as I took him in my mouth flooded me with desire.

He reached down and held my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine as my other hand stroked him further into my mouth.

“Fuck, that feels good.” He was watching me, and I locked my eyes on his, taking him into me, sucking him all the way down until the head of his cock hit the back of my throat. “Good girl, baby, there you go. Take that whole fucking dick.”

I did it, even though he was so big I wasn’t sure I could, but I got him all the way down my throat, and he moaned again and I loved that I was turning him on. I sucked him like that for a while, stroking and sucking, getting into a nice rhythm as my lips and hands and mouth served to pleasure him.

And then suddenly, he was flipping me over and his hand was pulling at my panties and he slid them off and then he was between my legs and on top of me, holding himself up over me, his biceps and triceps taut and tone. I reached up and felt his chest, running my hands over the smooth muscles, so strong, so safe.

“Okay?” he whispered gruffly.

I nodded, and then he pushed inside of me, and I felt that familiar resistance, the same resistance I’d felt earlier when he’d taken my virginity, and then he was pushing past it, his hips pivoting as he began to fuck me.

I groaned and arched my back, and he took my nipple into his mouth, sucking it softly and then letting it go. He reached down and grabbed my leg, pulled it up around his hip, pushing deeper into me and making me take it.

“Your pussy is still so tight, baby. I need to break you in more.” And then he thrust into me harder and deeper, so hard my tits started to bounce and so deep I could feel his balls hitting my ass.

He fucked me, pushing into me, holding my hip with his big hand, his finger skating over my clit while he fucked me with his thick cock.

And then I was coming, my pussy clenching around him as spasms of ecstasy ricocheted through my body.

“Fuck, Olivia,” he groaned, and then he was coming too, and I could feel him filling me with his seed, and it made my orgasm that much more intense and shattered me from the inside out.

He fell onto my body as continued to pump his cum into me, grabbing my hair and twisting it in his hands as he thrust into me, harder and harder, until he was done.

I ran my hands down his back and closed my eyes tight.

We laid there for a moment, not saying anything, letting our breathing slow and our heart rates return to normal.

I shivered, not from cold but from the thought of what we’d just did, but Colt must have thought I was cold, because he lifted up the comforter on his bed and motioned me to get underneath.

I slid under the blanket and he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I laid my head on his chest, and his fingers tangled in my hair.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

He pulled back and looked at me, tipping my chin up so that I was forced to look him right in the eye. “You sure? I know that was intense.”

“I like intense,” I said, keeping my eyes on his. He must have seen something there, reflected in my eyes. It might have been the closeness I was feeling toward him or the fact that even though it made absolutely no sense, I felt safer with him than I’d ever felt with anyone.

“Olivia…” He looked away and trailed off, but I knew what he had been about to say – that I shouldn’t start getting attached to him, that what had just happened between us didn’t mean anything. “Listen, I know you want –”

“Please,” I said and turned over in bed, shoving my hands under the pillow and squeezing my eyes shut. “Please, I don’t… you don’t have to say it.”

I was disappointed. For a second it occurred to me that maybe what I was feeling was just residual disappointment leftover from what had happened with Declan, that maybe I’d just transferred how I was feeling about him onto Colt.

But my heart knew it wasn’t like that.

The Declan disappointment was the kind of dull disappointment you experienced when you’d lost something that wasn’t really yours to begin with, the kind of disappointment that faded quickly because it wasn’t based on anything real.

This new disappointment, it was
real.
It cut. It burned. It rubbed me raw from the inside out. The whole time I’d been with Declan, all I could think about was Colt. How much I missed him. How much I wanted him.

And now that we’d had sex again, I wanted him even more.

It made no sense. I hadn’t known him that long.