Driven(book one)(22)

“I told you once I don’t take kindly to insults. You just did it again. For that alone you deserve to be taken over my knee,” his voice rings low with the unexpected threat that has my thighs clenching in expectant desire, and I’m not a girl into that type of thing. And yet that type of thing with Colton, his hands on me, possessing me, pushing me to ride that fine line bordering between pleasure and pain—arouses me beyond coherence.

I part my lips as he comes within inches of mine. My body is attuned to him. His scent. The intake of his breath. My back arches in reflex as he lifts a hand to my cheek. “It sucks, doesn’t it?” he asks as he trails a finger along my jaw line, stopping, then brushing against my bottom lip.

“What does?” I sigh softly as his finger leaves my skin.

“When you have to stick to your guns out of principal rather than giving into the temptation right in front of you,” he whispers, turning the tables on me. “There is no shame, Rylee, in letting your body have what it craves.”

We stand, inches from each other, letting the weight of his words settle in my psyche. I know he is right. My body’s deepening ache tells me so. That I want exactly what he is offering.

“It’s hard to deny it, sweetheart, when it’s written all over your body.”

I jerk back from him as if I’ve been bitten. His words fuel my ire and irritate me all at once. “No! I—”

“Shhh,” he murmurs stepping back toward me, pressing a finger to my lips, his eyes ablaze with salacious intensity. “Just know, Rylee, the best sex you will ever have … will be with me.” He says in a low, hypnotizing voice that seems to knock all of the air from my lungs and reason from my usually sensible head.

I jump back, needing space from his carnal words and unending arrogance. He’s so forward, so cocksure it’s almost unattractive. Almost. The man can definitely talk a good game. Too bad I’ll never know if it’s true or not, if for no other reason than to give his oversized ego a lesson.

“I’ll comply with the damn agreement, Colton.” I huff out. “For my boys. For the many kids to come.” I stalk toward the table, to collect my things. “Not for you. Or your stupid machinations behind it.” I square the papers up rather forcefully on the table, the paper hitting wood the only sound in the room. I look up, my steely eyes pinning his. “I will not sleep with you, Ace.”

“Yes, you will.” He smiles smugly at me.

Despite the vicious bang his words spark between my legs, I manage a single laugh. “Don’t even think for a single minute—”

“Colton!” A sexy voice purrs at the door to the conference room, interrupting me midsentence.

I snap my head up to see the svelte Bailey, smiling seductively, all wide eyes and batting eyelashes. The insecurities I have with regard to my sensuality rise to the surface as I swallow loudly, looking to see Colton’s reaction. My eyes meet his quickly because despite the interruption, his eyes have never left mine. I am unsure what to make of this. He purses his lips, the unresolved issues left between us hanging in the silence.

All of the sudden, I’m not feeling well and want desperately to escape from this room. From this man. From witnessing the familiarity between Bailey and Colton. From being jealous despite expressing that I don’t want anything like that with him.

Oblivious to the tension, Bailey sashays into the room, heading toward Colton, finger twirling her perfectly straight, perfectly bottle-dyed auburn hair.

Regret flashes through Colton’s eyes as he glances toward her and smiles a warm hello, ever the consummate gentleman. I turn abruptly to leave, knocking into my chair so that it scrapes loudly against the hardwood floor.

“I didn’t realize you’d snapped your fingers,” I mutter as I try again to get around my chair.

From behind me, Colton releases a hearty, sincere laugh at my comment that despite my frustration with him causes me to smile. As I exit the room, I hear him call my name. I keep walking, wanting to further myself from the undressing with the eyes I’m sure will be occurring momentarily.

With my lack of response, he yells out the doorway to me, “This is by no means over, Rylee.”

I continue without even responding, walk right past my office, and straight to the elevator doors. I ignore Stella’s call of my name, the blinking light indicating messages on my phone, and have luck when the elevator door opens as I approach. I need fresh air to clear my head right now, and this office, which is consumed by his presence at the moment, is not helping me.

I am a confident woman who is sure of myself and not afraid to speak up, so why do I feel like one of those blubbering girls I can’t stand? Why is it Colton reduces me to a mass of hormones, angry one minute and wanting his lips on mine the next?

I sag against the wall of the elevator in frustration. He gets me so worked up. So angry. I can’t figure out what I want to do more, punch him or sleep with him.





[page]CHAPTER 6

The warm California sun relaxes me as I drink in its warmth in my backyard. I recline in the chaise, tilting my head to get the last rays before they ebb and fade to dusk. The leaves of several palm trees that line our backyard fence rustle with the light breeze, providing me with a sense of calm.

The day’s events have taken their toll on me. My meeting and revelations with Colton were no less exhausting than my day with the boys. And with Josie down with the flu, I’ll be back at the house in less than twenty-four hours to cover her shift. Despite it being early evening, I really should be getting ready for bed—sleeping off some of my exhaustion from my long week. But I’ve let Haddie talk me into a glass of wine and some pizza that she’s putting together in the house.