Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(37)

“So this guy’s pretty bad news, huh?” I asked as I set my hand on the gear shift and pressed the clutch before turning the ignition. “I mean, I didn’t think anyone gave you the creeps as much as I did, but if you turned to me for help, he must be pretty damn creepy.”

She turned from the window to face me, blinking as if confused. “You don’t give me the creeps.”

“Right,” I said slowly. “So, how many times did he hit you?”

“You don’t creep me out,” she argued a little more forcefully. “You… You just…”

When words failed her, I waved a hand before pulling out of my parking spot. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to explain it. I already got you all figured, baby doll.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, do you?”

“I do.”

She let out an incredulous laugh. “Then please…tell me everything about me. I’m dying to know.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Since you asked for it. You’re a fighter. You fight the things you like but don’t think you should like. You have some preconceived notion set up in that brain of yours, telling you what you think is good for you and what you want, but when something comes along that doesn’t fit into those boxes, you try to reject it. You do it every time you look at me, even though I know you like what you see, and you did it when I made you come. You fought it the entire way through.”

I could feel her tense up from all the way across the cab of the truck. “I did not,” she muttered, clearly unwilling to accept such a thing. But then, who would like hearing that, I guess.

“You did,” I murmured gently, “which you shouldn’t do, you know. Orgasms are meant to be accepted openly and appreciated through the full extent of the ride. Resisting them only hurts yourself.”

“Well, I am so sorry I didn’t even come right for you.”

“Don’t be.” I shrugged. “I liked the challenge it posed. It made me want to be the one who finally set you free, who made you come so hard there was no way to resist it, so you had to experience all of it to its complete capacity.”

Hell, I’d wanted to break through her barriers so she would accept me to my complete capacity.

“But…” I shrugged regretfully. “I guess we’ll never know what I could’ve accomplished, will we? Since I’m never going to f*ck you.”





JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 12





My insides shuddered madly when Colton glanced across the interior of his truck at me. Verbally, he’d just told me he would never have sex with me, but the look he blasted my way murmured, unless you want me to.

I was tempted. Oh my God, was I tempted. But Colton really did have me figured out, the cocky jerk bastard.

If I didn’t think something should fit into my life, I did try to resist it, no matter how much I liked it or not. Liking Brandt had fit. It’d made sense, so I’d been determined to make it happen. But then Colton had come along, and he’d been wrong…all wrong except for the little fact that he’d ignited things inside me his brother hadn’t even been able to touch.

The more I fought my feelings for him and tried to convince myself he wasn’t the one I wanted, the more bottled up and miserable I felt. This wasn’t working. I wanted so badly to blurt out that I did want him, I wanted him so much it ached. But yeah, that rev limiter inside me kept me quiet.

When I saw the intersection we were approaching, I said, “Turn left here,” instead of demanding he pull over so we could get it on right inside the cab of his pickup.

I could feel the disappointment ooze off him as he turned without a word. Or maybe, the disappointment was all inside me and I was projecting it onto him, but whatever the case, it just made me feel more miserable.

I opened my mouth to apologize again for ruining the one chance we’d had to be together, but he said, “So about this abusive ex-husband of yours.”

I ground my teeth, wishing he’d forgotten about that. “He wasn’t abusive,” I muttered, fiddling with the hem of his jacket sleeve. I’d never worn sleeves this long before, and it was probably best I didn’t because I’m sure I would’ve started the nasty nervous habit of worrying the cloth between my fingers if I had. Playing with it was addictive.

“Right here,” I added. Damn, every time I shifted in my seat, this smell would waft up from the inside of his jacket and surround me. The hint of winter was masked by something that was pure Colton. It reminded me of the scent that had burned its way into my nostrils on the night of the wedding when I’d been ripping his shirt open. He’d smelled the exact same way then, too.

Colton turned where I instructed and said, “I don’t believe you. You’re not this scared of him for no reason.”

“He wasn’t abusive,” I insisted and then muttered, “because I never gave him the chance to be.”

A moment of silence followed before Colton asked, “What does that mean exactly?”

I sighed. He always had a way of making me spill everything to him, didn’t he? That was so not fair.

“One night,” I started reluctantly. “We had a fight. Our first real fight. Jesus.” I laughed and shook my head. “I can’t even remember what we were arguing about now, it was that stupid. But he got mad and swung out his arm just when I moved into striking distance.”