It wasn’t.
Rex was calling.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“Okay, here’s the deal. I am almost ready,” Rex said, stretching out the word. “I’m like ninety percent ready. And I want to just kill it on this test. But there’s one problem that’s making me absolutely bat-shit crazy.”
“Lay it on me,” Colin said, as he opened a drawer to grab a pair of boxers.
Rex rattled off the details, and Colin walked him through the steps to solving the equation as he pulled on black briefs and hung up his towel. The other line rang as he reviewed how to crosscheck the work, but he didn’t look to see who was calling since he was mid-explanation.
“Awesome,” Rex said, relief and exuberance in his voice. “You are clutch, man. You are so clutch.”
Colin smiled at the compliment. “Need anything else?”
Rex cleared his throat, then said, “Um.”
Uh-oh. Rex never hemmed and hawed. The guy was the king of boldness.
“What is it? Just tell me.”
Rex sighed. “Shit, I hate to ask. But I need a ride tomorrow to the test. My mom is taking the car for a job interview, and Marcus’s ride is in the shop—his tires are being rotated. So he can’t drive us.”
“Us?” Colin asked, curiously. “He’s taking the math placement test, too?”
“Yeah. He heard I was taking it, so he signed up as well. He’s a fucking math whiz though, just like you. He’s done all the studying on his own, and he’s trying to place into calculus or some shit like that. He’s trying to find a ride, but I just figured I’d take the initiative and ask you. I guess I could take Uber though.”
“No, you won’t take Uber,” Colin said with a wide grin. He was so damn grateful to be hearing this—that both boys were eager and ready to learn. “Tell me where to pick you up and I will gladly be your driver.”
Driver.
That word clanged loudly in his brain. His dad had been a limo driver and would have been proud of him—not for driving per se, but for helping the kids who needed it, especially when it came to math. His father had never gone to college, but he’d tried to work on his own number skills during the last year of his life, taking accounting classes at night school. Maybe Colin had picked up where his father had left off, carrying on his memory as the numbers guy of the crew.
Rex gave him the address, and Colin wrote it down. “Got it.”
His bell rang, sending Johnny Cash straight out of an evening snooze and into a brief bark-fest at the door. He headed to the entryway and peered in the peephole.
Even through the tiny window, Elle looked edible.
He glanced down, realizing he’d only managed to put on boxers.
So be it.
He opened the door as he finished his call with Rex. “I’ll be there at eight a.m. That work for you?”
“Absolutely. You’re the best,” Rex was saying as Elle stepped inside Colin’s home and mouthed “wow” as she raked her eyes over his hardly-dressed body.
“See you then.” He hung up, tossed his phone on the entryway table, and kissed her.
A soft kiss for a mere few seconds.
Then a hard and furious one that had hands wrapped around bodies and fingers diving into hair and breath coming fast from both of them. They were a collision of lust and heat. They clawed at each other, grasping, grabbing, needing contact. Fierce and fevered contact.
She giggled, breaking the kiss.
He shot her a curious look, and she pointed downward. Johnny Cash was licking her calf.
“I think he likes my lotion.”
“Is it eau de filet mignon?”
“No. It’s Body Shop. Satsuma oranges. All their stuff is made with no animal testing, so maybe that’s why he likes it.”
“Either that or he has scurvy.” He pointed to the living room. “Go lie down, Johnny Cash.”
The dog obeyed, trotting to the rug in front of the gray couch.
She gestured to his briefs. “Nice boxers,” she said, and he followed her gaze. She was staring at his erection, a full tent against the cotton fabric.
He gestured to her. All of her. “Nice everything.”
“Who are you meeting at eight a.m.?” she asked, as he reached for her hand and led her into his home.
“Rex. He needs a ride to take his math placement test tomorrow.”
She beamed. Absolutely fucking beamed. Her whole expression lit up with the biggest smile he’d seen in ages. “That is so cool of you to do that. I’m so thrilled,” she said as she reached for his arm, running her fingers along his skin. “I love it when you help them. It kind of turns me on.”
“I’m taking Marcus, too. Does it turn you on twice as much that I’m driving two of them?”
She blinked. Once, twice, three times. Her face seemed to freeze, and her smile turned into a deletion.
He frowned, confused at the shift. “Are you okay?” She closed her eyes for a second, squeezed them hard, then pressed her fingers to her temple. “Elle. What’s going on?” he asked nervously.
She opened her eyes. “Sorry. Sometimes I get these headaches. It’s nothing.” She waved her hand as if to dismiss it. She reached for his shoulders, grasped them, and walked backward to his couch. “You know what really turns me on?”
“Tell me.”
“Thinking about you all day. Like you wanted me to,” she said as she reached the couch. “I’ve been hot and bothered since I left you.”
She sank down on the couch and he followed her there, kneeling over her as she lay down.
“Did you count down the hours?” he asked as he ran a hand up her bare leg.
She nodded as she settled into a pillow at the end of the couch, her chestnut hair spilling across it. “It was pure torture.”
“Were you wet just thinking of me?”
“Yes. Just like now. I was turned on constantly. I ached for you,” she said, as he glided his finger across the damp panel of her panties. His cock twitched against his boxers as he touched her. His delicious, wet, horny Elle. God, he loved how much she wanted it. He loved turning her on. He loved touching her. Pushing her tight little skirt up to her waist, he groaned as he saw her panties—black lace with a tiny bow at the center.
“You need to be naked, right now. Completely naked,” he said, tugging off the panties and removing her heels, too. The shoes were sexy as fuck, but a plan was a plan was a plan. He needed her in her birthday suit for the first time. “Nothing on. Nothing but you, naked from head to toe, as I bury my face in this sweetness.” He slid a finger through her slick heat as she arched into him, wriggling out of her top at the same time.
She moved to her bra next, freeing her tits. His breath hitched. There she was, down to nothing but her beautiful bare self and the shimmer of desire evident in the flush on her skin. Her eyes, so dark and hungry, told him that she had indeed been one tortured woman all day long.
“I almost feel bad for making you think about me for nine hours straight,” he growled, as he pressed his hands on the insides of her thighs.
Her legs parted, and he groaned as he drank in the sight of her wet pussy. She was so fucking sexy, and so damn turned on, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. “But I can’t find it in me to feel bad when you’re this worked up already.”
She ran a hand through her hair and panted. “I am. Oh God, I am. You’re the only thing I could think about. I’ve been so turned on since I saw you this morning, and I’m dying for you.”
Her words stoked the raging fire in him. It crackled and burned with rampant desire as he opened her legs further, savoring the utterly intoxicating view of this beautiful woman arching her hips toward his mouth.
His dick ached. His erection throbbed against his boxer shorts. His mouth watered as he settled between her legs, hooked them on his shoulders, and at last, at long fucking last, he kissed her sweet honey center.