Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

67 - Rebecca

          Colby growled quietly, but this wasn't a sound of lust like before. He sat up, forcing me with him. I knew my cheeks were bright red as I stood up and pushed my skirt down. I suddenly felt exposed, even when it was to its full length. Colby wasn't bothering with his shirt, sitting up and fixing his hair instead. I gave him a look but he shrugged.

What we were doing in here was so obvious, it didn't matter if he was dressed.

Still blushing, I walked up to the door. I barely opened it, standing in the way of whoever was outside so I could at least try to hide Colby's obvious semi-undressing. Of all people, it was Jax in the hallway and I suddenly hated him just as much as Colby did.

"Jax," I said firmly. I imagined Colby stiffening behind me, glaring at the door. "What the fuck do you want?" I growled at him.

He saw my cheeks and I thought his turned a little pink himself. "Hi, Miss Woods," he said nervously, shifting his weight. "I thought you might have a second to talk?"

"What about?" I snapped.

"Replacing Blair."

"No."

Jax stared at me for a moment in silence before he nodded and took a step back, telling me he wasn't going to push it further. "Sorry to disturb you," he muttered and turned for the hallway.

I stood there, blocking Colby's easy access to murdering one of my employees, until Jax was halfway up the spiral stairs. I turned around, shutting the door with my ass and leaning against it. Colby was glaring at the wall right about where Jax would be by now.

"Still don't like him," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes and walked back to the couch. When I sat down, Colby put a possessive arm around my shoulders even though there was no one to be intimidated by it. Practicing, I thought.

"We should go before I bend you over the desk and take you in your office." He said it so casually that I thought I'd misheard him. The look in his eye told me I hadn't.

"Yes, we should go before that happens," I agreed — I didn't sound too convinced.

He smirked a bit as I stood up and started to pack everything into my backpack. I tried to control the hammering of my heart, admiring Colby's chest from the corner of my eye.

"I came in an Uber," Colby said — I was almost certain it was a lie. "So you can drive me wherever you want or you can let me drive." But that wasn't. However he had gotten here, I didn't want to think about. It just mattered that he was here and planned to stay.

I looked at the coffee on the corner of my desk waiting for me. No way was I driving. "You can drive," I said, shouldering my backpack. "But where are we going?"

He was hesitant even when he shrugged. "My place, your place... somewhere else." He looked at me for a second. "Have you eaten?"

Right. Food existed. The thought of that made my stomach rumble out loud, answering Colby's question.

"Let's get you food first, give you time to decide where you want to go."

Colby was decided on this plan as he walked to my door. I glanced down at his chest, which was still on show. Was he going to leave it like that? I wasn't going to complain for myself, but there were more girls than just me in the world.

As if he read my mind, he started to button up. I nodded appreciatively, walking around my desk to his side, picking up the coffee on the way. I sipped it — Mocha — when I reached him. He finished buttoning his shirt and took my free hand delicately in one of his. He lifted it to his lips and held it there for a second extra before he opened my office door.

We walked out together. First out of the office, then out of the stairwell, then out of the studio entirely. Jax had already gone, so I had to lock up all the doors and turn off all the lights. Colby was patient the whole time, existing silently as long as he could hold onto my hand. I'd tried to let go and he'd smacked my ass with his free hand then done what I had been trying to do himself. I couldn't smack him back yet, so I just counted up the number of times.

When I would cash in on my promise, I wasn't sure.

Eventually, I was sitting in the passenger seat of my car and Colby was in the driver seat. My backpack was in the footwell, a cup of coffee in one hand, Colby's fingers interlaced with the fingers on my other.

This was how it was supposed to be, I realised. There was no other way to live my life now that I had met Colby. I needed him there, even if he was just silently holding my hand.