Page 11 of Personal Foul
Chapter Four
Sydney
I’m starting to feel somewhat self-conscious over the fact I’m standing outside his door again for the second time in twenty-four hours. Staring at the peephole on the dark wood door, I let out a heavy breath to shake out the nerves pumping through me. I knock on the door before I give myself a chance to chicken out.
“Just do it, Syd.” I close my eyes, shaking out the nervous energy.
Swinging the door open, I come face-to-face with his smooth-as-caramel eyes, and I can’t hide my grin when I see his bright smile.
“Back so soon? You must’ve enjoyed yourself last night.” He winks. His devilish smirk highlights his dimples, making my knees weak as I recall the feel of his lips tracing the column of my neck.
“It was all right.”
I bite down on my lower lip, trying to hold back my urge to laugh. He narrows his eyes at me, reaching for my hand, pulling me inside. The door slams shut behind me as he pushes me up against it.
“All right? Just all right?”
“Yeah. I mean, it was okay.”
It takes everything in me to keep a stoic face. His eyes burn into me, giving me a second or two to confess I’m kidding, but when the confession doesn’t come, a look of determination overcomes him. He shakes his head from side to side like he’s gearing up for the challenge.
“Do you need me to give you a reminder of howall rightlast night was? I happen to remember quite vividly the way you sighed when I’d touched you and how you moaned my name.”
The mere mention of me damn near panting his name, begging him to touch me, rings clear in my memory. He must sense the change in my demeanor, leaning in closer, his breath sending a chill through me.
“I believe you had a few different names for me, actually. What was it you said?Oh, Colson. Oh, God, Oh my God, Colson.”
My pulse beats wildly in my chest. I’m willing to bet he can hear the loud pounding as he leans in closer to press a soft kiss against my collarbone.
I’m unable to resist him. A side tilt of my head exhibits my unabashed need for him and my blatant desire for him to touch me.
His kisses forge a trail, his lips featherlight against my skin, his tongue darting out to taste me. His feral moan fills my ears as his hands slide further, tangling with mine.
For a second, I think I am the only one struggling to keep my wits about me, but his unrelenting grip on my body proves we are both using the other for support. Our resistance is waning, only moments away from taking what we both desperately want.
“You taste so fucking good, Sydney.”
The way he says my name, so confident and commanding, with his tall body towering over me, makes me feel protected and desired.
He releases my hands, reaching up to frame my face, kissing me with a fervor that leaves me to wonder how I’m still breathing. It’s like all the air has been siphoned from my lungs, yet he’s somehow filling me, keeping my heart pounding and the blood rushing through my veins.
He presses a hard kiss against my lips, tilting his head back enough until his eyes meet mine.
“Still just all right?”
“It was okay.” I giggle, not holding back this time. For the first time since meeting him, I see him smile. I mean genuinely smile, and…damn.
Colson takes a step back. I’m sad yet grateful, knowing I need the distance to continue to form a word or thought. He leads me into the living room around the side of the couch, each of us taking a seat on opposite ends. My eyes bounce between where he’s sitting and the empty space between us.
“If I sit any closer, I’m not going to be able to resist touching you, and you looked like you had something on your mind when I opened the door. What’s up?”
It dawns on me how he’s able to recognize when something’s off, after knowing me for such a short time. I’ve always been told I’m hard to read, always keeping my emotions in check. I smile, tucking a piece of hair away from my face, looking down at the coffee table, trying to collect my thoughts before I begin.
“Well…” I say, mentally searching for the words I recited to myself in my apartment, running over how this conversation would go. I hadn’t expected anything to happen when I showed up at his apartment last night. I expected after today, when he realized who my father was and how complicated things could get, surely, he’d change his mind on seeing me, too.
Except, it seems to be the exact opposite of what I had assumed would happen. If that hasn’t been Colson in a nutshell since we first met, he’s been the complete opposite of everything I expected from the very beginning.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” I murmur, finally working up the courage to stare him in the eye. His brows are furrowed, a deep wrinkle forming on his forehead, waiting for me to elaborate.
