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I had the sudden urge to go up on my tiptoes to taste the smoothie from his lips. Would they be cool like the drink?
I licked my lips in anticipation.
Colton’s gaze dropped to follow the movement.
We were here to discuss my smoothies and the fundraiser. I shouldn’t be standing this close to him, and I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him.
“Do we need to talk about Delilah?”
My sister’s name was like a bucket of ice being poured on me. “Why would we need to do that?”
I stepped back, his hands falling from my hips. If I could just remove myself from his sphere, I wouldn’t feel the tug to move closer. I wouldn’t give in to this thing between us.
“I dated her. She’s your sister.”
I gestured between us, taking another step back. “We’re friends, colleagues. Nothing’s going on.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure about that?”
I shook my head, my throat suddenly tight.
He cocked his brow. “There’s something here. I know you feel it.”
He moved closer, brushing a hair away from my face. “I see the hitch of your breath when I get closer.” He brushed his knuckles over my skin. “The flush of your cheeks.”
Everything felt hot and tight. At the same time, my limbs were loose, and my knees were weak. I licked my dry lips. “What are you saying?”
His gaze dropped to follow the movement. “I want you, and I think you want me.”
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. I was mesmerized by him. His words. His touch.
His hand grazed my arm until it rested on my hip. He tightened his grip, pulling me against him. His hard chest against mine had my nipples pebbling and liquid pooling in my panties.
His lips rested by my temple, and I curled my fingers in his shirt. This was the moment. Did I take what I wanted, or did I back off, doing whatever I thought was right or what my sister would want?
For once, I wanted the good guy for myself. The one who asked before he took, who called when he said he was going to, who worried about my safety. I wanted Colton.
“Remi?” My name was a plea on his lips.
I looked up at him, his eyes dark with desire for me. Not Delilah. Me. “I do.”
“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice gravelly and deep.
“I want you, Colton.” I loved that he wanted to clarify what was going on between us. He wanted my consent.
“Fuck yes.” Then his mouth was on mine, hard and heavy. He was everywhere. His hands coasted over my body, his tongue slipping between my lips. His hand tugged my head back, angling me right where he wanted me.
Colton was intense. Want pooled in my stomach; desire made my movements slow.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Colton was kissing me in my studio apartment. We were feet from my bed and seconds away from making a crazy choice. Should I let go and give in to whatever this was, or step back and throw up the barriers, giving in to all the reasons why we can’t work?
Instinct had me fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He brushed my fingers away, and I shoved his shirt off his shoulders, pulling up the shirt underneath, coasting over his warm skin and hard abs, which were flexing at my touch.
I dropped down, kissing his stomach, and unzipping his jeans. The sound of his zipper was loud in my apartment.
I wanted him.
When I looked up at his face, Colton stared at me for a beat before pulling his shirt the rest of the way off and making quick work of his shoes and jeans.
