Keep It Together - By Lissa Matthews Page 0,14

letters unopened. I blocked his number. And I told my father if Russ ever set foot on my property again, I’d shoot him.”

Another bark of laughter erupted from him. Colt couldn’t help it, and for some reason, the most inappropriate thought entered his head at her statement.

Sex.

The two of them. Right then and there, he wanted to take her to bed and fuck the living daylights out of her.

It wasn’t the first time since he’d pulled up in front of the house that he’d had that particular thought, but something about her defiant stance regarding his brother turned him on even more. He liked that she was a take-no-prisoners kind of woman. She didn’t hide that she’d been hurt, and she didn’t hide that she was over it. She didn’t downplay it. With Chrissie it seemed that what you saw was what you got.

And God, that was fucking hot. “Is that when he got you the rifle?”

The pink in her cheeks was gone, and she flashed a wicked little grin along with a wink. “Shotgun,” she corrected him. “And it might be. Are you happy with my explanation?”

“I am.”

“Good.” She took two glasses from the open shelves above her head and held them out to him.

“Are you seeing anyone now?”

“No.” She twisted her wrists back and forth. “Will you fill these with ice for me?”

“I, ah…sure, but…” Colt took the glasses from her and held them by the rims in one hand. With the other hand, he pulled her close. She gazed up at him, stunned.

She’d been doing funny things to his heart, his gut, his cock and balls since he met her, and knowing she was single now, available, only added to his need. It was most definitely a need too. This desire for her. No woman he could recall from memory affected him the way this woman, this daughter of a small-town mayor, self-proclaimed redneck, down-to-earth and beautiful girl, affected him.

“I-I’m…not the freezer,” she told him. Her breath was coming faster, heavier, and the pulse in her neck picked up speed. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and being this close to her, able to touch her, breathe her in, he didn’t know how or if he’d be able to keep himself in check.

He’d told her that he wasn’t his brother, and for as true as that was, he wasn’t a saint either. Case in point, he’d broken a commandment, or a sort of commandment. He’d coveted his brother’s lover and soon-to-be wife. He didn’t have anything to do with the choices and decisions Russ made when he ran away to Vegas, but Colt wasn’t above taking advantage of the situation. He’d bided his time, and he was done waiting.

He’d never been this close to her and wouldn’t have minded staying right there with her as long as she’d let him. It was summertime and hotter than hell, but he was warm in ways that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. She was tense, her eyes like those of a deer in headlights, but her hips, they weren’t still, and she kept bumping against him.

He was so fucking hard. She had to know it because hiding it was out of the question with the way she was rubbing herself against him. “No, you’re not, and I’ll get the ice, don’t worry, but first I want to kiss you.”

He inched his head down toward hers, and her eyes widened more. Her features started to blur, but just before he closed his eyes, he took mental note of the different shades of blonde in the hair around her face and the myriad shades of brown in her eyes shot through with gold.

When he touched his lips to hers, and she surged upward into his body, he was lost. He’d been wondering, imagining for months what she would taste like, and now that he knew, he couldn’t describe if he’d tried. It was sweet and fresh, like the warmth of the outdoors on a day just like today. She tasted like sunshine.

He slipped an arm around her back and pulled her closer. The glasses clinked as he adjusted their positions. He angled his head, deepened their kiss, and licked her lips, thrilled when she licked back. Colt pressed his advantage then, sweeping her mouth with his tongue, molding his lips to hers.

Chapter Three

Coffee. The taste on his tongue was coffee and spice and sugar. She didn’t like coffee, but on him? It was the best thing