Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(50)

“Shh, shh.” I pressed my fingers to his lips, unable to bear listening to him because it hurt to hear how much turmoil I’d put him through. So I ended up admitting, “I don’t know...I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want.”

Okay, that was a lie.

I wanted him. I just couldn’t admit it.

Humiliated beyond reason, I let go of his mouth and pressed my hands to my cheeks. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry for dragging you into my messed-up head. Honestly, I don’t have a single f*cking clue what I’m doing. I just know I never did anyone wrong the way I did you wrong, and I’m...I’m ashamed and guilty and embarrassed. But every time I see you, I just…I get all hot and bothered and want to attack you instead of apologize, like total animal-sex style attack you. Which has to be wrong because I’m supposed to be regretful and feel bad for what I did. And I do. Except I just...you make me…I keep having these visions of pushing you down onto some flat surface and grinding my * in your face and riding your tongue so f*cking hard the ends of my fingers and toes blow off from the intensity of the pleasure it’d bring. But then I always want to fight with you too, like maybe even fight with you while I’m f*cking you.”

I backed away from him, still clutching my face and staring with wide, frightened eyes. “And why the hell am I telling you all this? Please, God, say you’ve been zoning out for the last thirty seconds of my rant and haven’t heard a word I said.”

He caught my shoulders and stopped me from backing away from him another step. “Oh, I caught every word.”

“Shit.” I closed my eyes and prayed to sink through the ground and escape this humiliating moment. “Shit, shit, sh—”

He cut me off by pressing his mouth gently against mine.

My brain short-circuited and by the time it took me to realize we were kissing, he was already pulling away.

My lips parted as I exhaled. Slowly, my eyes came open. Colton watched me with a pensive expression. Then he licked his lips. “Okay, so...yeah. I want to f*ck you too. And fight with you as well. Like...bad. Like, it doesn’t matter what you say or do to me, how much you hurt me or piss me off; I get this raging hard-on every time you’re around. Every time you disagree with me, I just want to piss you off until you kiss me and rip at my clothes. And then I want to bury my cock so deep inside you I forget my own f*cking name. And then I want to make you forget yours.”

I gulped and went back to clutching my face in shame. “So I did hurt you?”

He caught my wrists and pulled my hands away from my cheeks. “Forget about that and listen to what I’m saying here. If either of us has any hope of escaping this chemical imbalance shit stirring between us before we both go schizo, we need to have sex. I’m talking no-holds-barred, hanging from the ceiling, tearing each other’s clothes off, animal-f*cking sex.”

His delicious description swept through me like a hurricane. My hormones stirred to life and licked their lips, ready to climb him right there.

But…

“I don’t know. Doesn’t that sound...wrong to you?” my stupid conscience prompted me to say as I pressed my hand to my forehead.

Colton grinned one of his panty-dropping grins. “Oh, baby doll. Wrong’s just the way I like it.”

“See...” I pointed at him, frowning. “You say shit like that, and I know I should get annoyed and offended by it and want to smack your arrogant face, but no…no. Stupid me, I just want to climb you like a freaking stripper pole, shedding clothes as I go.”

“It’s because of the chemical—”

“Imbalance,” I snapped, tossing him a sharp glare. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Which is why I suggest we get it the f*ck out of our systems so we can move past it.” He sounded snippety right back at me, which almost made me turn the ire on him, but then his words struck me. He’d worded his suggestion differently this time around.

Tipping my head to the side, I echoed the phrase, “Out of our system?” as I studied him. Then he’d said move past it as if he wasn’t planning on some kind of relationship or typical dating...procedure. Hell, he made it sound like—

“Are you suggesting you just want to do it one time, like you think that’ll clear all this up and we never have to...again? You think just one time would get it out of our systems?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t. Most of this whole attraction bullshit between us is probably just curiosity. Wipe that out of the equation, and boom. No more erections in class while I’m trying to listen to the lecture.”

“I am not a one-and-done kind of girl,” I said primly, only to chase it with, “but…”

He grinned, the jerk. “But…?”

Tempted, I shook my head. I had never had a one-night stand before. I turned my nose up at them. But…

“One time is basically like it never even happened,” I tried to convince myself.

“Basically,” he agreed, shifting closer, looking eager and excited. “Just a couple minutes out of one day of your entire life. Not even a blip on the radar, really. It’ll be completely forgettable, and we can move on with our lives without ever wanting to jump each other’s bones again.”

Yes.

Yes, that sounded perfect. This agonizing whatever-it-was-we-were-currently-doing was making me insane. I needed it out of me.