The Obsessed With Him Series: Complete Box Set (A Bad Boy Romance) (21 page)

My eyes filled with tears as I tried to pull him off, but I couldn’t. He was too big, too strong.

Finally, he took a break, eyes wild as his gaze fell on the gun that was sitting on the floor.

He lunged for it, his eyes filled with hate as he pointed the gun at his uncle.

“Colt,” I pleaded. “Jesus, Colt, no.” I was crying now, the tears sliding down my face. The room smelled like smoke and alcohol and tobacco, and it was so intense I felt like gunpowder was entering my skin through my pores.

“Colt,” I whispered. “Please…”

I don’t know why, maybe it was the change in my tone, but he turned to look at me.

Mick moaned from the ground, his face bloody and bruised, his eyes rolling back into his head. Colt’s own face was bruised too, an ugly purple welt under his eye and a cut on his cheekbone.

He was breathing heavily, his broad chest heaving with the exertion of the beating he’d just given his uncle.

He looked at me.

“Go away, Olivia,” he said. “You don’t want to see this.”

“Colt.” I swallowed. “Colt, please, don’t do this.”

He cocked the trigger and turned back toward his uncle.

“Colt,” I said again. “Colt, if you…please, if you do this, it’s...you’ll ruin your life, you’ll go to jail, you’ll…” I shook my head. “Colt, you can’t.”

“I don’t give a fuck. He deserves it.” His hand tightened around the trigger and he licked his bottom lip.

“You’ll destroy me,” I said, the words pouring out of me before I could stop them. “Please, Colt, if you don’t care about yourself… care about me. Please.”

He turned to look at me, and his shoulders slumped just a little and I felt like I had a chance, that maybe I was getting through to him. I waited, my heart in my throat, and then a second later, he tossed the gun away and it skittered all the way across the floor and hit the stage.

And then his arms were around me and he was pulling me close and I collapsed against him and I was just so relieved to be close to him and my hands were twisting around the back of his shirt and I was crying and he was soothing me, his hands in my hair.

A second later, five FBI agents burst through the door, their guns drawn, swarming the place, Caleb leading the charge.

And the whole time Colt never let me go, the whole time my face was buried against his chest and his hands were in my hair, and I was crying, my face was a mess of tears and he was kissing me, and I was clutching him.

“I love you,” he was whispering into my ear. “God, Olivia, I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“I love you, too,” I said and then they were pulling him off of me, they were pulling him off of me and slapping handcuffs on and I was watching him slip away.

T
hey took
him to the back office and gave him an ice pack for his face while they questioned him.

They made me wait outside in the hallway. One of the agents brought out a folding chair, and I forced myself to sit down, even though the adrenaline coursing through my veins left me so jittery I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin.

The urge to run into the bathroom and cut myself welled up for a moment, but I forced myself to breath through it and a second later, the door to the office opened and Caleb came walking out.

I stood up.

“What happened?” I asked. “Is he in trouble?”

“We’re taking his uncle in for attempted murder, and we have the recording of him admitting to everything. Colt didn’t want to give us a look at the books, but it doesn’t matter, they’ll be subpoenaed.”

“But is he arrested?”

“No,” Caleb said. “We don’t have enough on him to bring him in, and honestly, my bosses want the uncle.” His lips twisted a bit, and I could tell he was disappointed, could tell that he’d wanted to nail Colt too.

But I let out a sigh of relief.

“Can I see him?” I asked.

He nodded, but as I went to move past him, he stopped me. “Olivia,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”

I nodded curtly and went to push by him again, but Caleb wasn’t finished.

“Guys like Colt, they don’t change. He may be off the hook now, but he’ll be into something else next month, next year. They do not change, Olivia. Trust me.”

His words rocked me to my core, and that same little voice niggled in my ear, that same voice telling me that I didn’t really know Colt, that if I’d been so wrong about Declan I could be wrong about Colt, too.

But instead of being afraid of my feelings, instead of cutting or running, I let myself feel, let myself imagine what would happen if Caleb were right.

And I realized it wouldn’t matter.

I didn’t care if Colt didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, because I had to try. I was in love with him, and for the first time ever, I had something in my life that meant so much to me it made the fear, the doubt, the worry
worth
feeling scared or anxious. Because I had to feel the hard things in order to feel the love, the passion, the intimacy, the want.

So I walked away from Caleb and into the office with my head held high, trusting myself and Colt.

When I got there, was sitting on the couch, his hands on his knees, looking down at the floor. I sat down next to him and he turned to look at me.

His face was bruised, his top lip slightly swollen.

I reached out and ran my finger over his cheekbone. “Oh, Colt,” I breathed, my breath catching in my chest. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” His eyes blazed and I tumbled into them. He was gazing into my eyes, and no one had ever looked at me like that before, like they were really
seeing
me, connecting with me all the way down to my soul. “I picked up that gun,” he said softly, “and I was so god damn
angry,
Olivia. I was so angry, and I just…I saw you there, and I knew the only thing that was stronger than my anger was my love for you.”

He pulled me to him, and he was kissing me and I was kissing him and I felt safe and secure and I was scared, too, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was him, about the two of us, about the things he was making me feel, things I never thought existed, much less for me.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you too,” I said.

And this time, when he stood up and took my hand and told me he wanted to take me home, I knew he was talking about my home, too.

S
IX MONTHS
LATER

T
he sun was dappling
across the sky and bouncing light off the ocean below as I watched out the window of the plane.

“Crown Royale Airlines Flight 2234 is now landing in Miami, Florida,” the pilot called over the loudspeaker and I closed my eyes and let the reality of my situation hit me. I was in
Miami.
I’d never been out of state before and now here I was, sitting in first class, sipping a glass of champagne and eating strawberries, about to land in sunny Florida.

“You okay?” Colt asked from the seat next to me.

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m okay.” He reached for my hand, the hand that was gripping the arm rest so tight my knuckles were white. His touch was firm and instantly calmed me.

“You sure?” he pressed as the plane skittered down the runway.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I breathed a sigh of relief when the plane rolled to a stop. It was silly, I knew, but I’d never been on a plane before, and it had taken me a while to get used to the air pressure and the flying and just… everything.

Colt’s fingers slid against the inside of my wrist. “Your pulse rate is through the roof.”

He pulled me to him and kissed me, not caring that the plane was starting to empty out, that the other first class passengers were walking down the aisle, not worried about who saw.

But that’s how he’d been this past six months, always attentive, always taking care of me, always putting my needs before his.

Finally, he pulled his lips from mine, and we made our way off the plane and through the airport before hopping into our rental car and heading for our hotel.

“Really, Colt?” I asked when I saw the car he’d chosen. “You had to get an Escalade?”

“I didn’t
have
to get anything Princess,” he said cockily, picking up my suitcase and tossing it into the back. “I
wanted
it.”

“And you always have to get what you want?” I asked as he shut the back.

He grabbed my hips and pushed me up against the back of the car, pinning me with his body. “I got you, didn’t I?” he murmured against my lips. He kissed me soft and slow, his hands dipping up under the back of my t-shirt and rubbing the small of my back.

My body instantly responded to his, my pussy flooding with warmth as his mouth pressed against mine, as he tongue pushed past my lips even though we were standing outside of the airport in full view of everyone.

“I cannot wait to get you back to the hotel room,” he said, resting his forehead against mine. “And fuck you until you can’t walk.”

He kissed the hollow of my throat, right on the sensitive spot on my neck that he knew drove me crazy. After six months together, he knew my body, knew exactly what buttons to push to send me over the edge, to tease me, to keep me wanting, to exquisitely torture me, and ultimately, to satisfy me.

“I need to be able to walk,” I said, “if we’re going to be checking out a new space tonight.”

Colt walked around and opened the passenger door for me, helped me up into the Escalade’s high seat. “You don’t need to be able to walk,” he said. “I’ll carry you.”

I giggled as he shut the door and crossed to the other side of the car, got in and started it. The engine roared to life and I rolled the window, letting the warm Florida air brush against my skin and blow my hair back.

“Tell me about it again,” I said. “Tell me everything about it.”

“It’s right on the beach,” he said. “Full outdoor kitchen, tiki bar, the works.”

“It sounds amazing.”

“We have to see it first,” he said, but I was already dreaming of it.

The club back home, Loose Cannons, had been shut down and revamped, giving way to an upscale restaurant that was now called Cannon’s. Colt had redone the whole place, exchanging the crushed red velvet curtains for black tablecloths and clean lines, adding in wide planked oak floors and a wood fire grill that cooked steak and seafood. Now that his uncle was in jail and awaiting trial, Colt was beholden to no one.

At first people had said an upscale restaurant couldn’t exist in such a rundown neighborhood, but word of how good the food was had gotten around, and business had been booming. There had even been talk about the entire neighborhood turning around because of Cannon’s.

Colt was running the entire place himself. Well, with help from me, as much as I could. We had enough money that I didn’t have to work. Hell,
he
didn’t have to work if he didn’t want to. The money he’d made when his uncle had bought him out, combined with how well the restaurant was doing, had made him even richer than he already was.

But I liked being at work with him, liked watching him as he interacted with customers and worked with vendors. He was always so strong, so in control, so in charge of everything he’d built. At some point, though, I wanted to start school, maybe go for a business degree or maybe major in psychology, so that I could help other foster kids like me.

The restaurant was doing so well that Colt had decided to open one in Miami, and we were meeting with a realtor tonight to check out a potential location that sounded perfect, and I was crossing my fingers that it would work out. I wanted to spend my winters in Florida, the two of us splashing in the ocean, swimming and wearing flip flops all day, coming home with sand in our toes and sunburn on our noses.

Colt pulled the car up in front of our hotel, and then unloaded our bags and checked us in.

“I’m going to shower,” I said once we got up to our room. “What time are we supposed to meet the realtor?”

“Seven.”

“Sound perfect.”

I walked into the bathroom and took my clothes off, turning the water all the way to hot and stepping into the aqua-tiled shower, letting the water sluice over my skin.

A second later, the bathroom door opened, and Colt stripped off his clothes and slipped into the shower with me.

“Hey,” I protested, giggling as his hands found me from behind and pulled me toward him. “We’re going to be late.”

“Like I give a fuck.” His hands were on my hips and he pushed into me and began to fuck me and I leaned back into him, letting his hands slide over my breasts as he moved faster, pushing his cock into me, over and over, thrusting inside of me until he came and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving my limbs relaxed and my body satisfied.

I sighed as he turned me around and shampooed my hair, his hands working through the strands, before running over my stomach, my hips, my breasts, my back as he cleaned me.

When he was done, he rinsed me off, then wrapped me in a fluffy robe.

This is it,
I thought, as he kissed me.
This is happiness.

W
hen we were dressed
and ready, we took the Escalade to the potential restaurant space.

As soon as we walked in, I knew it was perfect.

The ocean was spread before us through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun dipping down behind the horizon and sparkling off the rippling waves, the white sand laid out like a runway.

The inside was already beautifully decorated, beachy and modern, in shades of teal and chestnut, classy and understated and perfect for the steak and seafood crowd. Colt and I talked to the realtor briefly, a nice woman named Marjorie who gave us an informational sheet and then left us to look around by ourselves.

“What do you think?” Colt asked.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, running my hand over one of the high top tables. The surface was smooth and dark oak.

“I’ll have to buy a house down here,” Colt said, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “Something on the water, with an ocean view.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, inhaling the faint woodsy scent of his cologne. “That sounds amazing, actually.”