Page 8 of The Coldest Winter


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And why couldn’t I look away?

I pushed out an awkward smile. “Okay, well, this was…odd. Okay. Yeah. Goodbye.” I started walking past him. My arm brushed against his, and once again, I was met with the same warmth of his touch as his hand landed against my forearm.

He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Do you want to forget?”

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “Forget what?”

He moved in closer, his mouth landing near the edge of my earlobe. His hot breaths melted against my chilled skin as he whispered, “Everything.”

My stomach rumbled with nerves as I looked up to meet his green eyes with specks of brown once more. I saw it again—the flash of hurt in his eyes. It was short-lived, but it was there. Hidden behind secrets and stories he’d never shared with another. A part of me almost thought I made it up, but no. It was there. I swore it was there. I felt his sadness traveling through my system as he kept his hold on me. It was as if his intensity was exploding throughout my soul. Not only did I witness his darkness, but I felt it through his touch.

“Who hurt you?” I asked in reply.

His eyes flashed once more. There it was again—the sorrow. There was no way I’d mislabeled it.

His eyes hardened as he replied, “No one.”

“Liar.”

“Liar,” he agreed. “How about we lie together as we…lie together,” he offered. His hand was still on my forearm, and the heat it sent through my system flustered my mind. I liked his touch of warmth. I liked his blinks of pain. I liked how he reminded me of a roller coaster—terrifying yet thrilling and worth the price of admission.

I also liked that he smelled like oak trees and lemonade.

As I looked past him, my eyes locked with Whitney. She raised her eyebrows and nodded as she mouthed, “HH,” in my direction.

Yup. A hot-hot man.

At that moment, I knew I had two choices. I could’ve been the safe, boring Starlet who always did the right thing. The one who always made the brain-forward choices. Who always thought about the future and the consequences of life. Or I could be unhinged Starlet. The girl who shut off her brain and stepped into her wild side. The one who let go and let herself be free—the one who wanted to climb that man like a tree and take a proper seat. I didn’t want to be Cheerios anymore. I wanted to be the bottom of a box of Frosted Flakes where all the excellent stuff settled. Sugary, fun, and delicious.

My stare fell to his hand and then rose to meet those eyes again. “Okay,” I breathed out.

He arched an eyebrow. “Okay, what?”

“I need a chair.”

He gave me a devilish smile.

I liked that, too.

I flipped my hand around so I was the one now holding his wrist and began pulling him toward a room.

CHAPTER 2

Starlet

Once we found a bedroom, I closed the door behind us. My back turned to Dick as I locked the door, shutting us into our fantasy. The anticipation of it all increased once that bolt clicked into place, making it more real. As I pivoted around on my tiptoes to face him, I found him watching me, taking me all in as his breathing grew choppier as his hands clenched at his sides. He stayed patient and in place as if waiting for me to give him the go-ahead to touch me.

I grinned shyly, biting my bottom lip. I felt slightly unnerved to be the center of his attention. I’d never had a man look at me like he did…as if he were a hungry beast ready for the biggest feast of his life. He stalked over to me, pushing me up against the chilled door. My back fell against the wood softly, and his big hands cradled my head to stop me from hitting it against the door.

His lips hovered over mine briefly, his nose brushing against mine. My lips parted as his breaths fell against my mouth. His exhales became my inhalations seconds before his mouth crashed against mine. His tongue plundered into my mouth, discovering my taste.

His hand rode up the back of my tank top, caressing my skin as he deepened the kiss. My mind spun as the thrill of his taste grew increasingly addicting. My hands wrapped around his neck as his body pressed against mine. A quivering sensation fell between my thighs as his other hand wrapped around the back of my neck. My body arched toward him, unable to remember what it felt like before our bodies were tangled. I felt dirty, but I craved for him to make it messier. I wanted him to destroy me in all the best ways. Against the wall. On the dresser. Laid up against the bed. I’d never felt this way before—high on kisses.

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