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She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he could see her rolling her eyes. “I’d hardly suffer. You’re not that—”
Colm cut her words off with a firm smack on the ass. “You go to hell for lying, Kell.” And then, to punctuate that, he smacked her again.
“Ouch,” she said through clenched teeth, trying not to recall how he’d done the same thing the night of Halloween—and how much she’d fucking loved it. She punched in the code to her apartment building and led him inside.
“That was just a warm-up,” he warned.
He’d certainly warmed up her ass, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Or how much she wanted him to make it burn.
Somehow the asshole knew because he gave her an amused chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist to tug her closer as they walked up the first flight of stairs. She lived on the third floor of the apartment building, and the elevator only worked about a quarter of the time. As such, Kelli never used it, calling the two flights of stairs her workout routine. Well, that and seven daily hours of chasing a bunch of five-year-olds.
Yeah. Her exercise regime was solid, she thought sarcastically. Unlike Colm, who was rock-hard all over, she was a bit more plush…or as one of her students, Nykeya, liked to say, fluffy.
Unlocking her door, they hadn’t made it more than two steps over the threshold before Colm was kicking it shut with his foot. He quickly threw the dead bolt, then reached for her.
She met him halfway, the two of them kissing like he’d been off to war for years. All freaking day, she’d felt this damn pull, fighting like the devil not to push him into some empty bedroom and rip off his clothes.
His brother and cousins would have loved that. Though Sunnie, Yvonne, and Darcy wouldn’t have been too surprised.
Sunnie had pulled her aside at one point and threatened to turn the hose on her and Colm if they gave off any more sparks.
Kelli had brushed it off, but there was no denying the truth of her words. Kelli had been on a slow simmer all day, and now…
Now it was a full-blown boil.
A meow caught her attention, and she looked down to find Mojo rubbing against Colm’s legs.
“Hey, Mojo,” he said, acknowledging her cat in a way that was pretty adorable, before he pulled off his jacket, leaving it on the floor. Then did the same with hers.
Colm slowly started pushing her backwards, down the hallway to her bedroom, all the time kissing her like his life depended on it. She worked the buttons of his shirt free, moving so fast that at one point, she heard the slight tearing of fabric.
Colm’s hands had pulled her top from her jeans and slipped beneath, using his large grip to stroke the sensitive skin of her midsection, even as he steadied her on her backwards trek toward the bedroom.
Once his shirt hung open, she ran her fingers down his chest, stealing a quick touch before she started tackling his belt. She unthreaded it from the loops with a sharp swish, just as they reached her bedroom door.
Colm’s hands had found their way to her bra, beneath her shirt, and he was cupping her breasts firmly, squeezing them, pinching her nipples through the lace. Through it all, he’d never once broken the kiss.
“God,” she breathed when the back of her knees hit the edge of her mattress. Colm pulled her shirt over her head in one quick motion, drawing her bra straps over her shoulders to place kisses there. He was just about to push her down when Kelli caught sight of her messy bed, and she remembered…
“Shit,” she whispered, pushing against Colm, trying to back him up. She’d have been more successful shoving a skyscraper.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured, his lips traveling over her cheek and down the side of her neck. Her eyes drifted closed for just a second before they flew open again.
“I need to make the bed,” she blurted out.
Colm lifted his head away from the shoulder he’d started to lick and gave her a funny look. “That is the definition of pointless.”
“Yeah, but…um…I’d still like to straighten up in here a little. I wasn’t expecting you to come back with me.”
He glanced around her far-too-tidy room. God, why was she such a neat freak?
Then his gaze drifted to her bed—and he grinned.
The sheets were twisted to hell. She’d spent every single night this week trying to work off some arousal.
“What’s in the bed?” he asked.
She scowled, hoping to wipe the know-it-all look off his face. Of course the son of a bitch would know exactly why she was suddenly panicking. “Nothing,” she lied, though her denial was the true definition of pointless.
