Page 21 of Personal Foul
Chapter Eight
Sydney
“What’s on your mind?” Colson’s deep voice reverberates through the small space, the raspiness reminding me of the way he whispered low in my ear the first night we spent at his apartment together.
“Just thinking about today.”
I didn’t want to kill the mood but watching Isaac drive away left me in a funk and now I am desperate to pull myself out of it.
“You know, you were really great with the kids,” I admit, peering over at him before turning the wheel to pull my car under the awning down the parking ramp.
It’s early afternoon, so it’s mostly empty. Many of the other residents who use the garage are still at work or out for the day. I hadn’t planned on going back to the office after the event, although I do have some papers and a box of leftover T-shirts in my trunk to return tomorrow.
“They were a great group of kids. I enjoy doing things like this. This platform, I was given it for a reason. I’m going to use it to give back to the people who deserve it most, ya know?”
I turn my head to look out the window, blinking through the tears filling the brim of my eyes, hating how my emotions are getting to me.
“Yeah, I know,” I force out, trying to hide how hard his words hit me.
I pull into my spot near the corner of the garage, putting the car in park. The moment I do, his hand is on mine, urging me to face him. Gripping the side of my face, he guides me closer to him, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, stealing my breath.
Pulling back, he takes my hand and raises it to his mouth, trailing kisses along the inside of my forearm up to my wrist. My mouth parts, unable to move or breathe. Hell, unable to even think straight. All I can think about is how good it feels when he touches me and how I don’t want him to stop.
In my right mind, I could think of a list of reasons why this isn’t a good idea. It’s too soon. How would this look to management, the team, and my dad?
Except, I don’t care. Not right now. I push every fear and worry out of my mind, telling myself I’ll figure it out later.
All I care about right now is Colson and the way he makes me feel, and I never want this feeling to end.
“C’mere,” he careens, urging me closer to him.
I lean toward him, expecting him to want to kiss me, when he reaches for the lever next to his seat and adjusts it to the point he’s nearly lying down. Half of his body is practically in my back seat as he stretches his legs out in front of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Making room for you.” He winks while saying, “Stop thinking so much and get your ass over here.”
I scoff. What did he say?
“You think too much. Now get your fine ass over here.” He pauses, repeating it again. He raises his brow, waiting for me to fight him on it. Leaning back, I narrow my eyes at him. I want to argue with him. Moving to pull my arm away from him, I’m ready to fire off what’s on my mind.
“Now,” he commands.
His tongue darts out of his mouth, gliding slowly across his lower lip as his eyes fall to my chest, where I’m struggling to gain control of my breathing. My lungs work overtime to keep up. My heavy pants cause the windows to fog as my eyes dart away from his, looking to see if anyone is around.
There’s no one. Just me and Colson. All alone.
When my eyes fall back on him, he moves his arm up to rest under his head, not fazed in the least by what’s going on, and it only aggravates me more.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be right here waiting.”
My eyes narrow again. He’s seriously going to sit there, looking all fucking sexy, and it ticks me off. I hate how he gets under my skin, yet he’s acting like Mr. Calm, Cool, and Collected.
Something spurs inside of me. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or maybe it’s the fact I want to give him a taste of his own medicine. Find a way to rattle him, cracking his perfectly crafted exterior.
Unbuckling the seat belt, I reach for the handle of my seat and recline to match his. Kicking off my shoes, I climb over the center console separating us to straddle his lap. A grin stretches across his perfectly etched face. Adjusting his position to make room for me, his eyes light up while his hands find their way to my hips, guiding me above him until my chest is pressed against his with my legs on either side of him.
We might not have much space, but there’s no hiding how badly our bodies are craving each other. Even with what little material is between us, it’s still creating enough friction to drive us crazy.
