Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

93 - Rebecca

Distracted wasn't the start of it when I barely heard familiar, heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The blue designs I was making—but would never admit the inspiration for—were coming along nicely and I found myself only having more ideas the longer I worked on them. My mind was in a completely different place to my body when a light breeze zipped through the room and the smell of coffee filled it. A half-second later, there was a hand on my shoulder, scaring the shit out of me. I didn't admit it, though, as I dropped my sketchbook on the desk and leaned my head back to see Colby.

He was stood just behind my chair, leaning over it. The hand on my shoulder slid down my arm as he bent down and kissed me lightly on the lips. I smiled, spinning in my chair to make it easier. This was a common occurrence, and one Colby still didn't know how to avoid. He was bracing himself on the arms of my chair, legs trapped between mine. Just like always lately, it didn't take long for his hands to circle my thighs and pick me up, placing me down on my desk instead.

He pulled away, to my dismay, and sat down in my chair. I was sure he got a brilliant view, but I wasn't feeling too generous so I crossed one leg over the other. His bottom lip jutted a little in a playful pout. I kissed him to get rid of it. "Dork." I teased, trying not to smile. I was doing that a lot lately.

"How's everything going here?" He asked as he lounged back in my office chair. I wasn't about to tell him to get out; he looked hot in an office. Plus, desks were great for bending over.

I picked up the coffee he brought me—he always did—and sipped it before answering. Sweet, sweet Mocha. "Good, I hate to admit." Colby smiled. "Four designs down, excluding the one already made... so five down. We're halfway there." It was part realisation, part recall.

Colby glanced at the door behind me and kept smiling. It was driving me mad looking at him so happy, but I was just the same. We'd hardly fought over the last few days besides once or twice, and that'd been in the private comfort of my apartment after he'd, yet again, denied me. It was getting tiresome for me and I wondered how long it'd be before he gave up trying so hard. I couldn't understand why he did in all honesty.

My head lightly shook, removing some of my good mood. "Any news on when I'm going to be clued in, or is that still an inaccessible part of your life to me?" I asked, my tone sharp. Less sharp than I wanted it to be.

Colby frowned. "You are clued in."

I scoffed. "Hardly. So what you zip around the room while I'm there? I have no name to put to you besides inhuman. You haven't explained a damn thing about it to me. I'm not clued in."

His jaw set, his eyes flicking away from mine. "We're not ready yet."

"We or you?" I challenged instantly. "I can assure you that I'm far more ready than you think. And, for the record, I probably already know. You might as well just explain it." He shook his head. "I've told you this before, Colby: I won't wait forever."

"I know. You don't have to. Just... for a little while." He met my eyes, this time they were filled with some emotion I wasn't quite sure of. Colby showed me several emotions—most of which his friends could only dream he had. I saw the sparkle when he was happy, the dark when he was hungry for me, the glaze when he was guarded, the glaze when he was thinking deeply, and then this look that I couldn't put on anything. It was always after a conversation like this, or after I'd basically slapped him up the back of the head in annoyance—he'd always dodge it. But I didn't have an explanation for it.

His expression always switched too quickly to make a full analysis, though, like just now. He looked suddenly happy again as he moved forward in the chair to be closer to me. He tilted his head upwards. "No jobs tonight; you can come to my place."

"Thank fuck." I sighed, shivering. "Your bed is so much comfier."

He grinned. "That's the point of it."

"What, to make chicks wanna sleep in your bed instead of their own?" I snorted. "I hope you aren't coercing other girls into bed anywhere, let—"

"Becks." Colby cut me off. I rolled my eyes with a little smirk. "But no, it's to make you want to stay with me. Lately, at least."

"You know I'd sleep at your house any day, Colbs. I'm not always invited."

"I'm working on that." He took the coffee out of my hand, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me from the desk onto his lap. I was straddling him now.

I circled my hands to the back of his neck and leaned over. He let me kiss him, holding me close on his lap. This wasn't an alien occurrence; far from it. My lips got hungrier as my body arched into his, my hips pressing down. He breathed heavily into my mouth trying not to make any 'un-manly noise. But I knew that he wanted to moan and I wished he would just let it all go.

His hands wound up my hips to my waist, pausing at the base of the lace-up top. I slapped his wrist knowing he was going to take it off but not let this get any further. He grinned into the kiss as he surpassed the strings. One of his hands slid around my back to pull me impossibly closer and the other tangled in the hair at the side of my head. He tugged lightly on it and I exhaled unevenly.

My teeth wrapped around his lip for a second, pulling as I pulled away. I pressed my forehead against his, panting. I was hot and bothered now, every inch of my body wanting to force him to keep going. There would be a point, I was certain, where he would break. But the way he talked about it made it sound dangerous for me rather than him—snapping would end up with my body limp in a ditch.

Colby sighed heavily, finding my lips again for a moment. For just that moment, the smart part of my brain reminded me that he was going through the same frustration I was, but it was his own doing, so I couldn't completely sympathise with him.

"I wish I wasn't so difficult, Becks." He breathed as he met my eyes. "It's just... not as simple as it should be."

"We're less difficult than we were. We haven't fought in like a day, that's impressive for us." I muttered, playing with the hem of his shirt. My fingers automatically trailed off and drifted down his arm. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me soon—and that you'll finally fucking fuck me. I'm going nuts here, babe."

He smirked, slipping a hand beneath my skirt. I shuddered. "I thought you said you weren't going to beg." He teased lowly.

"That wasn't begging, that was stating that you're impossible." I snapped back.

He was still amused. "You have no idea how brutal that day will be, when it 'finally' happens. You won't be able to come into work for days, certainly." I frowned a little. "You won't be able to walk."

A rush of blood warmed my entire body, my breath hitching in my throat. He knew just what to say to make me more frustrated than I had ever been.

Dammit, Colby.