Page 84 of All the Missing Pieces

“It’s a bad idea,” I rasped. “We’d be playing with fire.”

Those ocean eyes sparked. “Then let’s watch it burn.”

34

RIDLEY

Every last inchof my body buzzed as I waited. Waited for Colt to tip one way or the other. Waited to see if he would burn the world down with me. If he would let some of that chaos reign.

But I wasn’t a patient person. I never had been. Always the one to jump without looking how deep the water was below.

My legs tightened around Colt’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer. And with that, I felt his length press against me, straining. My lips parted, crying out for breath, for him.

“I’m going to hell,” he muttered.

And then his mouth was on me. Not my lips but my neck, trailing over the sensitive skin there, where the bruises had now mostly faded to nothing. His fingers tangled in the straps of my tank. “This goddamned shirt,” he growled.

I pulled back slightly, breathless, but needing to see his face. “What’d my tank top ever do to you?”

“Been haunting my fucking dreams, that’s what,” Colt snapped. He slid one strap down and then another. “Been dying to know just how they all connected. Wondered if I snapped one, would they all come falling down?”

He tugged another and another before the fabric fell away, down to my waist, and my breasts were exposed to Colt. He stared down at them, tracing every detail with his gaze.

His hand lifted, thumb tracking over the underswell and then up. “Wondered if this was as golden as the rest of you.” That thumb circled my nipple, and I sucked in a breath.

“Colt.” His name was a plea. For what, I wasn’t even sure. But I was desperate for it.

That callused thumb circled again, drawing the bud tighter, making me crave more. He twisted the peak, and I let out a sound that was more animal than human.

Colt’s mouth lowered, pulling my nipple between his lips and sucking deep. A rush of wetness gathered between my thighs, and I rocked into him, craving a release from the building pressure. His teeth grazed my nipple, and I cried out.

His head lifted, eyes colliding with mine. “Fuck. Those sounds you make, Chaos. Need to hear what you sound like when I’m inside you.”

My core tightened, but there was nothing to close around, only reminding me how much I craved Colt. How much I needed him. Maybe from the first moment I’d seen him. Those damn broad shoulders and that scowl that somehow managed to make him hotter.

But it was more than that. Some part of me knew it was, even if I didn’t want to look at that piece too carefully, that sliver of connection that was so much deeper than anything else—how we understood each other’s pain, loss.

My arms tightened around Colt’s shoulders, and I pulled myself to him, not wanting to think about that tether. Right now the only thing I wanted to do was feel.

My mouth met his in a fever pitch. Our tongues dueled for supremacy, battling in a way I never wanted to end. But then Colt tipped the scales.

He moved forward, holding me to him with one hand while he shoved papers out of the way with the other. Then my back was hitting the cool wood of the table. The opposing temperatures only tugged at every nerve ending, coaxing them higher, making them cry out for more.

Colt stared down at me for a moment. His hand skimmed over my face, his thumb tracing my lips and then traveling down the delicate skin of my neck. He followed the line of my collarbone and dipped lower.

My back arched on instinct, nipples aching for Colt’s touch. He gave me what I wanted with both hands now, thumbs circling. Then his fingers twisted, and I bucked against it all, more wetness rushing between my legs.

“The way you move. Like a goddamned work of art. Could spend a lifetime memorizing all the ways you bend and bow.”

I shuddered at his words, the promise of them.

Colt’s hands released my nipples and trailed lower. One traced the curve of my side while the other circled my navel. He took his time, teasing and exploring, but never going where I wanted.

“Colt,” I ground out.

Those deep-brown eyes darkened. Some women would’ve misread the shift in color, been startled or maybe even scared. But that change only made my legs grip Colt’s waist tighter.

“Don’t. Rush. Me,” he growled. His fingers traced the line of my shorts along my lower belly. “Need to know what you look like beneath all these damn workout clothes. If you taste as good as you smell.”

---