Counter Terrorism by Scarlett Winters

Author:Scarlett Winters
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6- Brittani

As I shower, I can’t help but wonder what all of that was with Colt earlier. I am rather grateful that he insisted I take his duffle in with me, use his soaps and such. I’ve always found the cinnamon scent of him soothing—it’s what lulled me to sleep on the car ride over. I take my time washing up, letting the hot water beat against my neck and back. I can practically feel the stress washing down the drain. There’s something else I can do to de-stress, but should I, with Colt in the next room over?

The idea of touching myself with Colt so near is too tempting to resist.

I work one hand across my chest, slowly building up the sensations before working the other hand down between my legs. When we had gotten to the safe house, the feeling of the car stopping had woken me and I’d opened my eyes to see Colt pressing a broad hand to himself. I’m not sure what caused his erection, but it’s a sight I can’t stop thinking about. In my head, I imagine being bold enough to lean over and pull his sweats down, free his cock and put my mouth on him. I’d let him grab and pull at my hair as much as he wanted. I’d let Colt do anything that he wants to me.

I’m so close—I’ve just worked a finger inside myself when the water starts to cool. There’s barely time to shut it off before cold sputters out of the old pipes.

Now I’m cold and turned on.

Determined to go to bed and be done with this day, I dry off and take a look at the options in Colt’s gym bag. All I find is a pair of jeans that would be enormous on me, two shirts, one a wife beater and the other a regular t shirt. I go with the t-shirt. I know I should probably slip my panties back on, but I’ve been wearing them all day and this shirt is big enough on me that it lands at mid-thigh. It is Colt’s, after all. He needs room for all those muscles…

Nope! Not helping!

A quick towel through my hair and I’m set. I step out of the bathroom and into the living room to say goodnight to Colt and freeze.

He’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread and a hand down his sweats. By the sharp movements and the way his head is tossed back I can tell that he’s pleasuring himself. The sinews in his forearm ripple as he moves his hand and I can’t help but call out his name. “Colt?”

His head snaps up and his eyes open, locking on to me. I don’t think he even realizes, but he licks his lips, eyes darkening from honey to almost umber. His hand is still on his erection and I’m not sure what I should do. Make a joke? Pretend I don’t see anything? I don’t think walking away is an option.

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