face even if I have to get you there myself.”
The threat sits heavy in the air as Charles walks away and I’m left standing behind Colton’s wide frame staring after him in shock.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Colton looks back at me, his eyes narrowed but not glaring like he usually does, they just look … deflated.
He lets out a breath and without another word, starts walking away. I stare after him. Like father like son, I guess, only that’s not right. Colton just spent the last ten minutes practically arguing against that very point and for some reason, I want to believe him.
I need answers and I need them now.
Not waiting another second, I race after Colton.
I get to the stairs and look up to find him lost at the top. “Hey,” I call out though it comes out as more of an order than a subtle suggestion to get his ass back down here. Colton glances back and scoffs before continuing to the top and grating on my nerves.
That fucker.
I sprint up the stairs, taking two at a time and as I reach the top, I find Colton halfway down the hall, just passing the room I used the first few days I stayed here, the very room where the douche watched me almost get myself off, the same room where I rubbed my body all over him and felt him come alive beneath my fingers. Don’t get me wrong here, I hated living that close to him but at the same time, I kind of miss it. How fucking wrong is that?
I reach Colton just as he pushes the door open of his bedroom and I sneak in behind just in time for it to slam behind me.
He lets out a frustrated groan and turns on me but before he can tell me to get out of his room, I demand my answers. “What the hell was that?”
“None of your fucking business,” he snaps, reaching for the door.
I throw myself in front of it, blocking his way. “No. It is my business. I live here too and if I’m going to have some psycho maniac screaming at me that I’m his fucking property, then yeah, it is my fucking business and I deserve answers.”
Colton just stares and I clench my jaw. “I will stand here for the rest of the day if I have to, and I swear to you, you won’t enjoy it.”
He backs me up right against the door and in a flash, slams his hands down on either side of my face. “I said it’s none of your fucking business.”
I raise my chin to meet his eyes. “You don’t scare me, Colton,” I say, lowering my voice. “Where I come from, you’re nothing but an arrogant prick with a chip on your shoulder just like your daddy. If you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it already and if you really wanted to go to war, you would have made a move. You’re chicken shit, Colton Carrington.”
Fury blazes behind his eyes and he hesitates for just a moment before pressing into me and crushing his lips against mine. He kisses me deeply. Not rushed and forceful like the two times before and my body instantly wakes up.
My hands fall to his chest and slide up behind his neck, tangling in his hair as his drop to my ass. He lifts me and uses his body to keep me pinned against the door as my legs wrap around his waist.
What is this? Why does it always set my body on fire?
Colton grinds against me and a moan slips from between my lips. The sound is like a drug to him and his kisses become more hungry, needier, but I'm already there meeting him with that same desire.
My hands become a tangled mess in his hair and I want nothing more than for him to strip me bare and pound into me, giving us both what we’ve been craving since that very first touch, but I can’t. Despite the fact that I made a point that it will never happen, this is Colton Carrington, the biggest douchebag I’ve ever met. He could get any girl he wanted. In fact, I don’t doubt he has them lined up just waiting for him to give them a chance. So, what is he doing with me?
He’s playing me like a puppet and every single time, I fall into his trap. Hook, line, and sinker and it won’t be