Page 64 of Tame Our Wild

Her hair is down and straight today. The sun overhead illuminates the strands, making them appear like sparkling champagne falling over her shoulders.

I want to massage the lines that form between her brows with my thumb. “Thank you,” she says in shock at my courtesy. When she hops out, the front of her body brushing against my front traps her breath in her lungs.

She steps away from me and the door, and I close it.

There’s no point in avoiding this very necessary conversation any longer. We need to have it, whether she wants to or not. “Want to talk about it?”

She shuts the idea down real fast. “Nope.”

“Come on, Harlow, we need to discuss what happened.”

“Not much to discuss. We kissed. That’s it.”

My head cocks, and I blow out an exasperated laugh. “That’s it?”

I take a step forward, her back hitting the passenger door when she retreats one. “Yes.”

“I must be mistaken then.” I prop my hand above her on the window, caging her below me. “Because I remember my fingers acquainting themselves with your pussy. That’s not nothing.”

Her jaw clenches at the same time her eyes widen. She places her hands on my chest, shoving me backward. “I’m not doing this with you. You need to forget it happened, just like I’m going to.”

“One problem, I can’t. And I don’t want to.” I want to discuss what this means.

Fuck our rivalry. Forget about the competition between us. We tainted both the moment we snapped, and if it leaves us scarred, then what’s adding a few more? We already have them, the imperfections binding us together in a way nothing else can.

She blows past me toward the porch, yelling, “That’s your problem. Not mine.”

Like fuck it is.

She opens the front door and storms inside, leaving me to haul our suitcases out of the truck bed. As I’m pulling them inside, I hear her upstairs, and I’m all too curious about the commotion. When I get to the second floor, I stand in her doorway with my arms folded across my chest, watching her untangle the lasso that had been hanging on the wall as a piece of décor.

I lean against the frame. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m putting a stop to this.”

She stomps past me, putting one end of the rope at the edge of the stairs and the other end of the lasso at the end of the hall.

She’s split the hallway in two.

Her room on one side, mine on the other.

“I’m drawing the line. No more kissing, no more … whatever it was that happened between us in Salt Lake City. None of it, Colson.” She braces her hands on her hips. “I’m serious.”

I find her amusing.

Harlow walks toward me, placing both hands on my shoulder blades as she pushes me back toward my bedroom door. Then, she takes a pronounced, large step over to her side of the hallway to prove her point.

For a moment, I try to keep my eyes from falling to the soft swells of her breasts in her low-cut, long-sleeved shirt. But then I realize, I don’t care. I eye-fuck the hell out of them, not giving a damn.

“Stop that,” she scolds.

I point to the rope and release a manic laugh. “You think that’s going to solve this? Drawing a physical line between us doesn’t change anything!” I lower my voice. “Because I bet, when you pull out your vibrator later tonight and hold it between your legs, you’re going to imagine it’s my head between your thighs.”

The flush of bright pink that blooms across her chest and cheeks pulls at the smug grin on my lips.

She swallows, her voice cracking. “I won’t.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Okay. But just so you know, while you’re pleasuring yourself in there, I’ll be in my room with my fist around my cock, pretending it’s your beautiful throat taking every inch.” She noticeably trembles, and I take a step, letting the lasso touch the toe of my boots, but I don’t cross it. Her face is a hair away from mine. “And when you come tonight, I’m considering that orgasm mine.”