Page 15 of Promised Cowboy
He doesn’t speak.
He doesn’t have to.
I breathe in, steady myself, then say, “I don’t want to think anymore.”
His throat moves as he swallows. “You sure?”
I nod. “I’m here, Colton.”
That’s all it takes.
He steps back and lets me in.
He doesn’t ask why I’m here.
He already knows.
Chapter 9 – Colton
She doesn’t say another word when I shut the door behind her.
She doesn’t have to.
Lacey stands in the middle of my kitchen, rain still glistening on her shoulders, hair loose and curling at the ends. Her chest rises and falls fast — like she ran here, like she’s still catching her breath. I take one step closer and see the truth in her eyes.
She wants this.
She wants me.
I reach her slowly, giving her every second to change her mind. But she doesn’t move. Her lips part just slightly, her breath hitching when my hands find her waist.
“You sure?” I ask.
She nods once. “I’ve never been more sure.”
That’s all I need.
I press my mouth to hers and the world falls away.
There’s no hesitation this time. No nerves. Just heat. Years of tension crashing between us like fire meeting gasoline. She kisses me back with a hunger I wasn’t expecting — desperate, open, full of need. Her fingers slide into my hair, pulling me closer, and I groan into her mouth as my hands sweep down her back, anchoring her to me.
We move through the house like we’re magnetized — colliding, clinging, peeling off layers as we go. Her sweatshirt hits the floor first, followed by my T-shirt. Her skin is soft andwarm and already flushed, and when I bend to kiss the base of her throat, she shudders and tilts her head back to give me more.
“Bedroom,” she breathes.
I lift her without a word, her legs wrapping around my waist like she’s done it a hundred times. I carry her down the hallway, kissing her like I’ll never get enough, and when we fall onto the bed, she laughs — breathless and wild — before pulling me back down with her.
She tastes like rain and memory.
Like home.
I slide my hands up her stomach, under her shirt, and she arches into my touch as I lift the fabric over her head. She’s wearing nothing underneath. My breath catches.
“You’re unreal,” I murmur.
She grabs my face in both hands and kisses me like I’m the only thing that matters. Like she’s been starving for this.
My mouth finds her collarbone, then lower. She gasps when my lips wrap around her nipple, her back arching, hands in my hair. I take my time — slow, focused, savoring every reaction.