Fueled

My eyes still have bright white spots in my field of vision, but I survived the red carpet. I feel so disoriented and oddly taken advantage of by the press’ invasive questions and incessant picture taking. I have no idea how Colton can be so relaxed in such a situation. Maybe years of practice. He was calm and polite, and avoided answering the questions thrown at him—were we an item, how long had we been together, what was my name?—and deflected them with the flash of his smile, giving them the perfect picture for their cover page instead.

Colton squeezes my hand in sympathy. “Sometimes I forget how nerve wracking that can be to someone who’s never done it before.” He gives me a quick, chaste kiss on the lips before directing me toward the ballroom. “Forgive me. I should have prepped you for it before hand.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him, relaxing at the warmth of his hand on my back. “I’m fine.”

The red carpet is one thing, but I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what I’d feel entering a room with Colton. It seems as if every head in the room turns when we walk through the doorway, all of their attention focused on the man beside me. The man is just simply magnetic in every sense of the word: looks, attitude, charisma, and personality. I falter at the sudden attention. Colton feels my hesitancy and pulls me closer against his side, a not so subtle demonstration of ownership and possession to the assessing stares. The unexpected action both surprises me and warms my heart. He leans his mouth to my ear. “Breathe baby,” he murmurs, “you’re doing just fine. And I can’t wait to fuck you later.” My eyes flash up to his and the smirk he gives me tames the nerves.

The next hour or so goes by in a flash. Colton and I mingle throughout the crowd, and I’m in awe of the number of people that he knows or is acquainted with. He is so unpretentious that I find myself forgetting the circumstances in which he grew up—where celebrities are family friends and tuxedos are everyday wear.

He’s really quite charming, always knowing the right comment to make or when to add a little levity to the conversation with a light joke. He subtly works the sponsorship program into each conversation and patiently answers questions about it in a laid-back fashion that has people committing to the cause without feeling propositioned or badgered.

And he wears my panties as a pocket square—a constant reminder to me of our little interlude in the limo and the seductive promises he made.

I glance around the room and notice several women talking together and stealing glances our way. At first I assume that they’re looking at Colton because let’s face it, it’s hard not to gawk at him. And then when I take a second look, I realize that their gazes are not in admiration of Colton but rather in judgment of his date—me. They eye me cattily, sneers on their faces before turning back to each other to carry on. Criticizing me, no doubt. I try to not let it bother me or to let my insecurity get the best of me, but I know what they’re thinking. I see Tawny’s observations echoed in their looks.

I am so immersed in my thoughts that I didn’t realize Colton has maneuvered me behind a tall a bistro cocktail table. He turns his back to the room behind us and kisses me to renew my torturous need for him. He pulls his face back to watch me as his hand, blocked to the crowd beyond by his dinner jacket, cups the V between my legs. “Fast and hard? Or nice and slow, Rylee? Which way should I fuck you first?” he murmurs quietly, the timbre of his voice carrying to my ears. My breath catches in my throat as one finger presses between my folds through the fabric of my dress—not enough pressure to set me off, but just enough to cause a ripple of sensation to travel throughout my body.

“Colton?”

A voice interrupts us from over Colton’s shoulder. I jolt in awareness from what he was just doing, while a smooth smile slides across his mouth as he turns to address the acquaintance. He greets the gentleman and introduces me even though he knows I most likely need a moment to regain my wits. I’m sure the flush of my cheeks can tell him that much, but when I glance over at him, he’s immersed in his conversation about some event they’d attended together in the past. His eyes flick over to me, a lopsided, ghost of a smirk on his face and his eyes suggesting so much more.

I watch Colton, only partially listening to what he’s saying, until the couple is called elsewhere, all the while my body humming with desire. To have him so close to me—at my fingertips really—and not be able to touch him? To slide my hands up that sculpted chest beneath that dress shirt? Run my tongue down the V at his hips and taste him? Absolute torture. He leans into me, obviously guessing where my thoughts have drifted off to, and his face brushes against my hair. “God, you’re sexy when you’re aroused,” he whispers to me before pressing a kiss to my temple.

“This is so unfair,” I chastise him, pressing a hand against his chest, a foolish grin on my lips. My smile falters momentarily as I catch a nasty look from a passing female out of the corner of my eye. What’s your problem? I want to ask her. What have I done to you?

“Do you want another drink?” he asks, breaking through my mental dress down of unknown bimbo number one. I figure I should number them because I have a feeling there might be more than a few here tonight. I nod my head to his request, knowing the night’s just begun and I need a little liquid courage if I’m going to remain at Colton’s sexual mercy. “I’ll be right back,” he tells me before squeezing my hand and heading off to the bar.

I watch him and see several A-list actors stop him on his way to shake his hand or pat his back in greeting. A statuesque blonde sidles up to his side trying to get his attention. I observe Colton, curious as to how he’ll interact with her and noting their level of familiarity—the way she touches him, the lean in her body language towards him, the way he looks at her, but at the same time seems annoyed by her presence—makes me wonder if he’s slept with her before. I can’t tear my eyes away from watching them because deep down I already know the answer.

I know that he’s had his fill of women, and I accept that, but at the same time, my acknowledgement does not mean that I’m okay with it. That I want to be privy to it with my own eyes. I watch him dismiss the blonde and continue across the room. By the time he actually makes it to the bar, he is surrounded by a group of people, all vying for his attention, ranging from young to old, men to women.

“He’s not going to keep you around you know,” an accented voice beside me says quietly.

“Excuse me?” I turn to look at the stunning beauty beside me with the requisite straight, blonde hair.

Hello, bimbo number two.

She smirks at me, her head shaking side to side in disapproval as she sizes me up. “Just what I said,” she deadpans. “He doesn’t keep us around for long.”

Us? As if I want to be any part of anything with her, let alone the newest member of the Colton Donavan Cast Off Club. Great! Another of his women scorned. “Thanks for the heads up,” I tell her, not hiding my disdain for her presence, “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

When I start to walk away she grabs me by my upper arm. Anger fires in my veins. Every polite bone in my body riots to not whirl around and show her that underneath this glamorous dress is a scrapper willing to fight for what’s mine. And right now, Colton is mine. My hand itches to reach out and slap her hand off of me. Or to just slap her in general.

“Just so you know, when he’s done with you and tosses you aside, I’ll be there to take your place.” With these words, I successfully shrug out of her grip and turn to face her. When I just stare at her with icy contempt, shocked into silence from her audacity, she continues. “Didn’t you know Colton likes to dabble with his exes when he’s in between women?”

“So what? You just sit around and wait? Seems pathetic to me,” I say, shaking my head at her and trying to hide the fact that her words unnerve me.

“He’s that good,” she rebukes.

As if I didn’t know already.

And with her words, I realize that is why all of these exes are so possessive of him, even if in memory. He’s the total package in more ways than one. Less the ability to commit of course. Suddenly, the sneer on her face is replaced by a dazzling smile. I notice her body language changing and shifting, and I know that Colton is behind me even before my body hums with the awareness of his proximity.

I turn and give him a smile, my countenance one of gratitude for saving me from this woman’s talons. “Teagan.” He nods to her, a reserved smile on his face and indifference in his voice. “You look lovely as always.”

“Colton,” she gushes breathlessly, her demeanor completed changed. “So good to see you again.” She steps forward to kiss his cheek, and he absently brushes her off by placing his hand on my waist and pulling me tighter into his side. I can tell she is hurt by his lack of attention, so she tries again without success.

“If you’ll excuse us, Teagan, we have a room to work,” he says politely, dismissing her by steering me away.

He nods to another acquaintance and continues once we are out of earshot. “She’s a nasty piece of work,” he says before taking a swallow of his drink. “I’m sorry I didn’t rescue you sooner.”

“It’s okay, she was busy informing me that when you discard me, she’ll be your in-between-girl until you find someone new. That you always dabble with your exes while searching for your next conquest.” I roll my eyes and try to make my tone lighthearted as if her words didn’t bug me, but I know later they’ll hit me full force when I’m least expecting it.

Because I’m more than sure she was speaking the truth.

Colton throws his head back and laughs loudly. “When Hell freezes over!” he exclaims, brushing off her remarks. “Remind me to tell you about her later. She’s a piece of work.”

“Good to know. I’ll make sure I steer clear of her.”

We mingle a bit more, talking up our joint venture in a room filled with deep pockets. We are separated here and there, different conversations tugging us in opposing directions. In those instances when we are apart, I can’t help but look over at Colton, my soft smile is the only answer I can give to his wicked smirk.

I find myself alone for a moment and decide to head to the bar to refill my drink. I’m waiting in the rather long line when I hear the three women a couple of patrons behind me. At first I don’t think they realize that I can hear them. The rude comments about my choice in dress. About how I am so not Colton’s type because I’m not exactly sample size. How I’d benefit from a nose job and some lypo. How I wouldn’t know how to handle Colton in bed even if he gave me a road map. And it goes on and on until I know for sure that they’re saying it loud on purpose, in the hopes of getting to me.

No matter how much I know that they’re just jealous and trying to get under my skin, they’ve most definitely burrowed deep and are succeeding. They’ve gotten to me despite the knowledge in my head that I’m the one Colton’s with tonight. I decide the drink refill I want—that I currently feel like I most definitely could benefit from—isn’t worth the mental angst that these bitches are inflicting.

I opt out of line and take a deep breath in fortification, planning to ignore them as I walk by. But I can’t do it. I can’t let them know they’ve succeeded. Instead I stop just as I pass them and turn back. I don’t care how I feel on the inside. I’m not letting bimbos numbers three, four, and five know that they’ve gotten to me. I look up to meet their judgmental eyes, take in their condescending sneers, and shrug off their disapproving glares.

“Hey, ladies.” I smirk, leaning in closer. “Just so you know, the only road map I need is the little moan that Colton makes as I lick my way down his delicious happy trail that points straight to his obscenely large dick. Thanks for your concern though.” I flash a catty smile of my own before walking away without looking back.

My hands are shaking as I walk, veering towards the hallway near the restrooms for a moment to collect myself. Why did I let them get to me? If I’m with Colton, isn’t that the only answer I need? But am I really with Colton? I see it in his eyes, hear it in his unspoken words, and feel it in his skillful touch. In Vegas he told me that he chose me, but when I asked him to try and give me more than his stupid arrangement, he never answered me, never gave me any of the security a simple, “Yes, I’ll try,” would have given me.

Maybe it’s noticing all of, what I assume to be, his cast-offs here tonight—seeing them still want what they can no longer have and parading around in front of me. Couldn’t he have at least warned me?

And then the thought snakes into my psyche. Is that going to be me in a couple of months? One of the many women scorned by the notorious Colton Donavan. I’d like to think not, but after seeing them here tonight, why do I think that I even have a shot at taming the uncontrollable man? Why would he change for me when the myriad before didn’t even tempt him to?

I can think that I’m different all day long, but my thoughts mean nothing when his words could mean everything.

I sigh, my nerves calming and unsettled simultaneously as I look down into my empty glass. I let out a little shriek as hands slide around my waist from behind. “There you are,” Colton’s voice murmurs into my ear, his lips grazing the curve of my shoulder up to my neck. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Well hello there, Ace,” I say back to him, the whisper of his lips momentarily quieting my doubts.

“Ace, huh?” He chuckles and I try to turn into him, but he keeps his body ghosted to mine with his arms around my torso. He starts walking forward, my legs instinctively moving from the momentum of his. With each step, I can feel him hardening against my lower back. The ache that never really left roars back to life.

Colton’s resonating chuckle against my ear snaps me out of thoughts of what I want him—no need him—to do to me right now. It’s just too much for me to have our bodies connected from thigh to shoulder. Begging is within the realm of possibilities right now.

“A closet experience?” he asks, and it takes me a moment to get that he’s offering up another lame attempt for the meaning behind Ace.

“Nope,” I laugh at him, “Where’d that one—”

“God, it couldn’t be any more fucking perfect if I’d planned it.”

And I see it the minute the words are out of his mouth. He’s walked us down toward the isolated end of the janitor’s alcove, and ironically we are standing in front of a door marked Storage.

I start to laugh but before it can even escape, he has me turned around and pinned against the wall, his body pressing into me, his steel into my softness. Colton props his hands on either side of my head and leans his face into mine, stopping a whisper from my lips. Our chests press together as our desperation to taste one another consumes our air, hijacks our ability to breathe, and steals the process of reason.

Despite our close proximity, our eyes remain open, the connection between us unwavering. Electric. Combustible. “Do you have any idea how desperate I am to fuck you right now?” he murmurs, the movement of his lips brushing ever so slightly against mine.

I drown in the liquid heat his words evoke, begging him to pull me under and take me there, but all I can do is exhale an unsteady breath. He leans in and tastes me. My hands itch to fist in his jacket and rip open his shirt, buttons be damned.

Colton pulls back when he hears the click of heels but pulls open the closet door and presses me inside. The minute the door shuts to the darkened closet, Colton has my arms pinned above my head. The only illumination in the closet is the light seeping through the crack of the doorjamb. My mind never once registers my internal demons—the claustrophobia from the accident that usually smothers me at the first inkling of being confined. My only thought is Colton. Fear ceases to exist. I shudder, anticipating the moment his body will crash into mine, push me against the door, and take from me what we’ve both been so desperately needing.

Release. Connection. Intensity.

But it doesn’t happen. The only connection between us is his hands holding my wrists hostage above my head. The closet is too dark to decipher the outline of his body, but I can feel his breath feathering over my face. We stand here like this for a moment, so close that the hairs on my arms stand up, every nerve in my body itching to feel the touch he’s yet to give, suspended in this hazy state of need.

“Anticipation can enhance,” he whispers, and right now, it is most definitely the definition of Ace. No doubt. But I don’t have any time to comprehend let alone respond because his lips finally meet mine. And this time, they do more than just taste. They devour. Take without asking. Brand the claim being staked.

The world on the other side of the door ceases to exist. The doubts rioting in my head fall silent. Everything is lost to the sensation of his mouth worshiping mine.

Our tongues dance. Our reverent sighs meld. Our bodies succumb, but never touch. Besides Colton’s hands on my wrist and lips on my mouth, he doesn’t allow any other part of our bodies to connect.

And I so desperately need to touch him, feel the tightened buds of my nipples rubbing against his chest, feel his fingers trailing up my thighs and touching my most intimate of places.

But he refuses me that silent request, completely in control of the satiation of my detonating desire.

He pulls back on a groan from both of us. “Christ woman,” he swears. “You’re making it incredibly difficult to pull away from you.”

“Then don’t.” I pant as lust coils so intensely, having him so close yet so far from me in more ways than one.

He growls in a frustrated response and just as quick as we entered the ironic storage closet, we are out of it. I momentarily close my eyes at the sudden wash of light. When I open my eyes again, Colton stands a few feet in front of me, the tension set in his shoulders a result of what I assume is the slippery hold he has on his restraint.

He looks back over his shoulder at me, his jaw set and his eyes warring with something within. “Colton?” I ask, trying to figure out his state of mind.

He just shakes his head at me. “I’m gonna hit the head. Meet you out there?”

I just look at him, a stuttered, “Okay,” falling from my lips.

He starts to walk away but stops and turns back and steps toward me. Without preamble, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into him for a chaste kiss on the lips before walking away. I hear him call over his shoulder. “I need a minute.”

And I need a lifetime.

I’m immersed in a conversation about the merits of my organization and what the new facilities will have to offer when I’m interrupted.

“Rylee!” a voice booms behind me, and when I turn around, I find myself swallowed up in a big bear hug by the arms of Andy Westin. I return the hug, his affection contagious, and then he leans back and holds my arms out to take me in. He whistles. “Wow! You’re looking absolutely stunning this evening,” he compliments, and I can see exactly who Colton learned how to charm from.

“Mr. Westin, so glad to see you again,” I tell him, and I am surprised that I really am. In a room full of pretension, he brings vibrancy and sincerity.

He waves a hand in the air. “I told you, please call me Andy.”

“Alright, Andy then. Does Colton know you’re here? Can I get you a drink?”

“Nonsense. I’ll get myself a drink in a moment,” he says, patting my arm while searching the crowd. “We haven’t seen him yet. We’ve been busy seeing old friends and hearing about this great cause.”

“Kids Now definitely is,” I muse.

He grins widely. “Speaking of good causes, I hear you and my boy are working on a little something together for your own organization.”

“Yes we are!” I exclaim, a thrill shooting through me at the sudden realization that this is really happening. I am actually here promoting the new facility and its culmination. “With Colton’s help—”

“There you are,” a sultry voice interrupts me. I turn to see its owner and find that I am face to face with Dorothea Donavan-Westin. She is absolutely stunning, and there is a gracefulness about her—in her movement, in her smile, in how she holds herself—that makes you want to just watch and admire.

“Dottie, sweetheart! I didn’t know where you went off to,” Andy says as he kisses her cheek.

Dorothea looks over to me, her sapphire blue eyes alight with humor. “He’s always losing me.” She laughs.

“Dottie dear, this is Rylee…”

“Thomas,” I finish for Andy.

“Thomas. Yes,” he says, winking at me, thankful for my assistance. “Please meet my wife, Dorothea...” he turns to her “...she’s the one that Colton is working with on—”

“Yes I know, dear...” she pats his arm affectionately “...I am on the board after all.” She turns to face me and extends a perfectly manicured hand. “So glad to finally meet you in person, Rylee. I’ve heard such great things about your work through the committee.”

I reach out to shake her hand, surprised by my nerves. Where Andy is warm and inviting, Dorothea is reserved and regal. A person who makes you want to have their approval without so much as saying a word. Commanding. “Thank you. So lovely to meet you as well,” I smile warmly at her. “Your husband and I were just talking about that. Your son’s generous donation has made the facility become a tangible reality for us. Once his team figures the total lap match sponsorship, we just might be able to start pulling permits.”

Pride fills Dorothea’s face at the mention of her son, and I can see the unconditional love in her eyes. “Well I guess it was a good thing I fell ill and forced him to attend in my place then.” She laughs. “Despite the incessant grumbling I had to listen to about being forced to wear a tux.”

I can’t help but smile at her words; I heard the same grumbling earlier. “We are overwhelmed by his generosity. Words cannot express how much it is appreciated. And then to go above and beyond and try to get sponsorships to complete the funding…” I place my hand over my heart. “It just leaves us—me—speechless. Overwhelmed, really.”

“That’s our boy!” Andy exclaims, reaching for a flute of champagne from a passing waitress and handing it to Dorothea.

“You should be so proud of him. He’s a good man.” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize it, and I find myself slightly embarrassed. My unexpected admission to his parents is insight into my feelings for their beloved son.

Dorothea angles her head to the side and regards me over her champagne flute as she takes a sip. “So tell me, Rylee, are you here with Colton tonight on a professional or a personal level?”

I must look like a deer in the headlights at her words and I look from Dorothea to Andy and back again. What am I supposed to say? That I’m in love with your son, but he still thinks of me as a woman he fucks because he refuses to accept that he might have feelings for me? I hardly think that’s an appropriate thing to say to one’s parents regardless of its truth or not. My mouth opens to say something when Andy intervenes.

“Don’t badger the girl, Dottie!” he says playfully, winking at me as I silently thank him.

“Well...” she shrugs in apology, although I doubt she’s remorseful “...a mother likes to know these things. In fact, I think—”

“What a pleasant surprise!” I hear the smooth rasp of Colton’s voice, and relief floods me that I won’t have to answer her question.

“Colton!” Dorothea exclaims as she turns to face her son. I’m surprised when he grabs his mom in a huge bear hug, rocking her back and forth before kissing her on the cheek, his face lighting up with love for her. She accepts his affection openly and places both hands on his cheeks and looks into his eyes. “Let me look at you! It feels like forever since I’ve seen you!”

He smiles at her, his adoration apparent. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.” He smirks at her as he pats his dad on the back in greeting. “Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, bud,” Andy says, putting an arm around Colton’s shoulders and squeezing momentarily. “What’s this?” he asks, bringing a hand up to playfully rub Colton’s cheek. “You actually shaved for tonight? Your mother was surprised when she saw the picture from the event the other night of you and—”

“You looked so handsome, Colton. All clean-shaven...” She cuts her husband off with a warning glance before smiling adoringly at her son. “You know how much I like when you shave that scruff off of your face. You look much better without it!”

Colton looks over at me, a crooked smirk on his face, his eyes telling me that he remembers my comment about just how much I enjoy the scruff against my inner thighs. “I see you’ve met Rylee?” he says as he slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against him, leaning over to brush his lips to my temple. I instinctively lean into him, not missing the look of surprise that’s exchanged between his parents. Over what I’m unsure, but Andy’s look to Dorothea appears to say see what I mean.

“Yes, we were just speaking about her company’s new project,” his mother replies, studying him closely, a bemused look on her face.

“Rylee’s done a great job,” he says, the pride brimming in his eyes surprises me. “If you saw the boys—the ones that are currently under her charge—what great kids they are, you’d understand why becoming involved was a no-brainer. Why this project needs to be completed.” His enthusiasm is heartfelt and that is endearing to me. “But you already know that, don’t you, Mom?”

We speak for a few moments before Andy excuses himself to go get a drink, and I do the same heading for the restroom. I take a few steps away when Colton places his hand on my lower back and stops me with the murmur of my name. His body presses up behind me, connecting us together like puzzle pieces.

“Don’t even think about getting yourself off in that bathroom.” He growls quietly into my ear causing spirals of need to electrify my every nerve. “I know you’re desperate to feel me buried inside you as much as I am. I know the ache is so intense it burns. But, baby, I’m the only one allowed to take you there.” He runs his hand up the side of my ribcage. “Not your fingers. Not a toy. Not any other fucker in this room.” He exhales and I’m envious of his ability to breathe at this moment. “Just me. And I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” He presses a kiss to the back of my head. “Mine. Understood?”

I swallow, trying to find my voice. His words were just so seriously hot that I swear I can feel the moisture pooling between my thighs. I nod my head and only when I am several feet away from him—when I can actually think without him clouding my coherency—am I able to draw a breath.

The bathroom is empty when I enter, and I head to the furthest stall against the wall. I just need a moment to myself. I’m finishing my business when I hear the door creak open and two pairs of heels clicking on the concrete floor, and their laughter echoing off of the tiled walls.

“So who’s he here with tonight? He seems pretty serious about her seeing as his eyes aren’t wandering astray as usual.”

The other woman laughs a throaty reply and something about the familiarity of it causes me to pause with my hand on the door to the stall. “Oh her? She’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

I hear the smack of lips as if someone is blotting their freshly applied lipstick. “Well by the looks of Page 6, you seem to be right.”

“You saw that?” throaty-voiced girl says.

“Yes! You and Colton looked so great together. Like the perfect fucking couple.” I bristle at the words when I recognize that throaty-voiced girl, the one saying that I am nothing to worry about, is Tawny.

“Thanks, doll! I think so too. It was such a great evening, and as usual Colton was his ever-attentive self.”

Whoa! What in the hell is she talking about? Evening? As usual? My conversation with Colton’s parents comes back to my mind. Andy telling Colton that his mother saw a picture of him and someone else before Dorothea cut him off. The picture was with Tawny? I swallow the bile that rises in my throat, trying to calm my thoughts from getting too far out of whack and reading into the comments. I try to push away the pounding rush of my pulse filling my ears, desperate to eavesdrop some more. I feel nauseous, so I back up and sit back down, fully clothed, on the toilet seat.

“I can’t believe you ever let him get away in the first place!”

“I know.” She sighs. “But he’s a man that’s definitely hard to sway once he makes his mind up. I’ve made sure that he knows without question that he can no longer use the excuse that I’m like a sibling to him though.” She giggles suggestively. “And I’ve made sure to be there every step of the way so that in the end he’ll turn to me.”

“Shut-up! No you didn’t…”

“Someone’s gotta whip that boy into shape.” My stomach revolts at her words.

“Well, I don’t think it’ll take him much longer now by the looks of that picture,” her friend says, and I can mentally see the smirk she has spreading across her lips.

“Yeah, I know.” Tawny replies. “She can’t give him what he needs. She’s so damn naïve. The two of them are like Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. He’s going to eat her alive, spit her out, and then move on to the next.”

“He does have quite the sexual appetite. Big Bad Wolf…hmm, that fits. Definitely some of the best sex I’ve ever had.” Wait a minute! Colton’s been with the friend too? Deep breath, Rylee. How fucking many of his exes are there here tonight? Deep breath.

I hear the zipper of a purse close. “He’ll tire of her soon enough when she can’t fulfill him. I mean look at her…she doesn’t have a seductive bone in that body. She’s too boring…too plain…too blah to keep his rapt attention. And if she’s like that on the outside, I can’t imagine how utterly lackluster she is between the sheets. You know how he is, predictability is one thing he doesn’t tolerate.” She laughs. “Besides, I dropped a few hints to him the other night to let him know I was still game. And more than willing to be anyone or do anything he wanted.”

Her friend hums in agreement. “Who wouldn’t be when it comes to him? The man’s a tireless fucking God in the sack.”

“I know that better than anyone.” Tawny chuckles, the sound crawling up my spine. “Besides, I can be patient. Time is most definitely on my side.”

“You ready?” I hear a second purse zip and the clicking of heels again until the door closes shut, bathing me in silence.

What the hell? I fumble in my purse for my phone. I click on Google and type in “Page 6, Colton Donavan.” I click on the first link that pops up and brace myself when the image fills the screen. It is a picture of Colton walking out of the Chateau Marmont. His hand is placed on Tawny’s lower back, who is decked out in a stunningly sexy, red dress. She is turned, looking up at him, her hand on his lapel, adoration filling her eyes, and a suggestive smile on her face. Colton is looking down at her, his face crinkled in laughter as if they’ve just shared a private joke. When I can finally tear my eyes away from the obvious chemistry between them, I glance at the date of the photo.

The date is this past Wednesday. The same day that Colton took the kids and me to the go-kart track. I groan out loud in the empty restroom at the realization that I got him all riled up in sexual frustration, and then I sent him off to a function with Tawny. Fucking great! I glance at the photo again, hoping maybe it is a stock photo the paper used to fill space, but then I take a closer look and notice that Colton is clean-shaven. He’s never clean-shaven. Wednesday was the first time since I’ve known him that he’s been like that. I feel a sharp pain in my gut as I stare at the picture again. Colton had told me that he had a work function to go to. At the Chateau Marmont with Tawny? What the hell type of function were they at, and why were they leaving together looking so damn cozy?

I take a deep breath, my thoughts rioting violently around in my head as Tawny’s verbal digs enter my conscience again and take hold.

I start to feel suffocated in the confines of the bathroom stall. I fumble with the lock on the stall and hurry past the vanities. I glance at myself in the mirror quickly and am shocked that my appearance is so calm and collected when my insides twist over this newfound information.

I force myself to calm down and not jump to conclusions. Tawny is a family friend and a business associate. Of course they have to go to functions together. The picture was probably snapped at just the right moment to capture a scene people could talk about. One they could make assumptions about. There are probably twenty other pictures in that scene that are boring and non-gossip worthy. Besides, the fact that Tawny still has a thing for Colton shouldn’t surprise me; she let me know as much at the track.

When I exit the bathroom, I’m still trying to talk myself down from the ledge of insecurity. I can’t find Colton, so I head toward the bar, needing another drink to soothe my frayed nerves. I tell myself that I know Colton’s had his share of women, but he told me in Vegas that I’m who he wants. It’d be so much easier to accept if he’d just admit to me that we were something more—that we were exclusive—anything to tell me verbally that emotions are a part of the picture. That I’m not just his physical plaything.

Get that out of your head, Rylee! I have to accept that he shows me with actions, not words. That’s all he’s willing to give me, and I have to accept this or walk away. I sigh in frustration. I thought I was mentally okay with this. Really I did, but then you add the mix of bimbos tonight and my insecurities have resurfaced. And having them thrown in my face repeatedly by Tawny and then tonight by Teagan—as well as bimbos three through five—makes it that much more difficult. Colton’s the total package. I should be flattered that other women want to be with him.

Keep telling yourself that, Ry, and maybe someday you’ll believe it.

I order a drink from the bar and when I turn to walk away, I spot Colton talking to some gentlemen across the room. I smile, the sight of him dissipating all of my doubts. As I start to walk toward him, his conversation ends and before he turns to walk away, a woman walks up to him and embraces him in a hug that lasts a little too long for my liking. And of course she is a blonde, breathtaking beauty that rivals him in the stunning looks department. When she turns so I can see her, it’s none other than bimbo number five from the bar line earlier.

The flames of irritation flicker to life inside of me.

Here we go again. I stop in my path and watch their interaction. Whereas Colton’s exchange with Teagan was pleasant but detached, his conversation with bimbo number five is anything but distant. When I see him smile sincerely at her and leave his hand pressed to her lower back instead of moving it, I bite back the jealousy that streaks.

He’s done nothing wrong or improper, but the familiarity between them is obvious. I force myself to look away, and it is then that my eyes meet Tawny’s from across the room. Her blue eyes hold mine, contempt and condescension thrown at me in the simple glare. She crosses her arms across her torso as she flicks her eyes over to Colton and then back to mine. A derisive smirk lifts one corner of her mouth as she shakes her head. She makes a show of looking down to her watch and tapping on the face of it before looking back up at me. The clock’s ticking, Rylee. Your time is almost up.

I turn back toward Colton, careful not to give her any reaction in my facial expression despite my surmounting anger. There’s not enough alcohol in this room right now for me to hold a conversation with her. I could use a good Haddie-pep-talk right now. Where the hell is she when I need her?

I start to make my way toward Colton when the blonde he’s with lifts her eyes from his to meet mine. She gives me the same quick but appraising look she had earlier, but his time it’s followed by the flash of an insolent smile. Yet another female that wants me out of the picture so that she can make her move. Then again, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s waiting. They don’t seem to have any problem making their moves right in front of me.

I need a break from all of this frickin’ drama and the inferno of irrationality that’s smothering all of my oxygen. I decide to head outside to get some fresh air and regain my sense of self that these blonde leaches seem to be sucking from me bit by bit.

Colton’s gaze follows bimbo number five’s and meets mine. A smile lights up his face as I approach, but it falls slightly when he sees the look on my face. “You okay?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I murmur, purposely avoiding looking at his companion. “I just need to get some air,” I say and continue right past him without stopping to answer the questioning look on his face.

I hurry out of the ballroom, making it to the exit unscathed. I push open the doors and draw in the fresh, night air. It’s cold but more than welcomed. I need it after the stifling atmosphere inside. I walk hastily toward the gardens I’d noticed on the way in, hoping that they’re empty at this time of night.

Needing solitude.