His words caused half a second of pause because of the enchanting temptation they roused. I would love nothing else in the world than to stop wondering what-if every time I was around Brandt.
Sitting back, I crossed my arms over my chest, acting as if I didn’t care and was just playing along to recover my possessions. “Oh, really? And how do you suggest I do that?”
With a shrug, he said, “Same way any woman gets over a guy she likes. By settling for some other lucky schmuck to get your mind off him, of course.” Grinning, he lifted his hand. “In fact, I volunteer as consolation prize.”
JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 3
I couldn’t help myself. My mind went there. It took a good three-second vacation to envision what being with Colton Gamble might be like—which, embarrassingly, wasn’t the first time I’d wondered it either. And I had to admit, there was no way tangling with him could ever be boring or staid. The guy had a way of making me catch my breath just by looking at me as if he knew things… hot, kinky, exciting things, scrumptious things I hadn’t experienced in a long time, or maybe even ever.
He had never laid a hand on me, but I already knew if I let him, those hands would be everywhere. They looked like naughty, mischievous hands, all long and slim-fingered, or like a magician’s hands that did all kinds of flashy, interesting things right before your eyes and then snuck up and surprised you with the real trick without you even being aware of it, until bam, orgasm central.
My body kind of suddenly wanted those hands to pull a rabbit out of my hat.
Which made me blink with guilt and squeeze my thighs together inconspicuously as I glared at him. But seriously, why would he do this to me? He probably hadn’t even been seriously propositioning me, and here I was, tingling and throbbing over the mere suggestions he’d put into my head.
The jerk.
I’m not sure why I’d actually thought he might’ve had some kind of legitimate plan to help me get over my silly crush on his brother, either. I should’ve known he’d only been trying to segue into another one of his stupid, empty pickup lines.
“Give me back my purse, you idiot.”
When I held out my hand, he sighed and surprisingly handed it over without any resistance, which disappointed me as much as it shocked me. Wait, I hadn’t said disappointed, had I? I didn’t mean disappointed.
And yet, I kind of did.
“Is it the forbidden thing?” he asked as I clutched my purse to my chest, singularly aware of the warmth secreting from it where his hand had been holding it.
I’d planned on storming away and leaving for good, but his question made me waver. “Excuse me?”
“The fact that he’s unavailable.” Colton rolled his hand to explain himself. “You’re not one of those women who only wants a guy once he’s already taken, are you?”
“What?” My mouth fell open, unable to believe he’d ask me that. It stung that he’d even think of me that way. “Good God, no.”
“Because, you know,” he went on conversationally as if I hadn’t spoken. “It would make sense why you’ve never wanted me. Maybe I made myself too available.”
Never wanted him? Humph. I almost laughed in his face over that one.
But hell, if he wasn’t aware I’d had all kinds of dirty thoughts about him, then…yeah, I was going to keep it that way. Who knew how big his head would grow if he suspected what kind of sexy, forbidden daydreams I’d really had.
Thinking of him that way had always made me feel like a guilty piece of slime, though, as if I was cheating on my old feelings for his brother when I’d had those thoughts, which had to be really fucking messed up.
But in all seriousness, if a person were to put Colton’s sex appeal into Brandt’s personality, my ovaries probably would’ve exploded months ago.
When I noticed Colton was watching me as if waiting for a response, I realized, shit, my mind had just wandered to places it should never go.
I cleared my throat. “Uh…no. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not like that. And honestly, if anything, you’re probably five times more forbidden than your brother, anyway.”
“Really?” Eyes sparking with interest, he leaned closer. “That sounds exciting. Why am I forbidden?”
Damn, why had I told him that? And why did I feel the urge to explain it? I knew I was going to regret getting into this discussion, but I just couldn’t help myself. The boy dragged out the arguer in me. It was as if he knew I loved a good debate.
“Well, first of all, you’re underage.”
“Wrong.” He made a game-show buzzer sound before grinning. “But you already know I’m legal now.”
“The hell if you are. You can’t drink alcohol until you’re twenty-one, buddy.”
“But I’m adult enough to vote, go to war, and have all the consensual sex I want, which is what really counts.”