Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I return to my room, needing to get away from his intensity and gather my thoughts. What should I take with me? Laptop, pens, paper, some frickin’ common sense. Most of all, I have to banish these sex thoughts to have hope in hell of concentrating.
“Give me a minute,” I call over my shoulder without turning to check he’s heard me. The heavy retreating tread of his feet tells me all I need to know. Like a marathon runner at the end of a grueling race, I place my hands on the fronts of my thighs and bend at the waist. “Get it together,” I whisper. “Pull your panties up and get on with it.”
With a deep breath and a renewed purpose, I grab my things and make the brief journey across the hall to Colby’s room.
The door is ajar, so I cross the threshold without knocking. He’s already hunched over this desk, computer open, fingers flying over the keyboard. “I’ve started putting something down so that we have a starting point.”
“Okay.” I’m relieved. Hopefully, that will mean sitting next to him for less time.
He’s bought the chair that usually sits in the corner of his room next to his desk so that I can see what he’s typing. I guess Colby’s taking the lead, which doesn’t surprise me. His bossy tone and controlling hands flash into my mind, and my knees go to jelly as I slump into the seat.
“What are your thoughts on these headlines?”
I scan through what he’s written, and it’s precisely the approach I would have taken.
“Looks great.”
His shoulders drop a little, which is funny because I wouldn’t have imagined Colby would care much about whether I agreed with him. I expected him to just take over, assuming he knows best. He’s that kind of man. But the reality of how we work together over the next couple of hours is completely different. Yes, he has strong opinions, but that’s okay. I’m pretty bull-headed too.
The thing is, even if I start out wanting to disagree with him, his arguments are always strong and well-thought-through. I catch him nodding when I’m talking, as though he’s impressed with my way of thinking, too. In record time, we have a presentation that I’m proud of and know Professor Anderson will love, and we’ve achieved it without a disagreement and in record time.
We make a great team. Who could have predicted that?
It’s the first time in forever that we’ve spent time in each other’s company without getting on each other’s nerves, and I don’t know how to process this version of my stepbrother. Is he like this because of what happened? Is he trying to smooth things over so he can get a good grade, and get in my pants again, or is he a different person than I thought?
As Colby folds closed his laptop, I stand, pushing my chair back a little with my legs to make space, but it’s as though Colby has the same thought and stands too. I end up with my face almost pressed to his broad chest, catching the scent of his freshly washed shirt and warm skin in the process. He looks down as I look up, and when our eyes meet, a frisson of electricity seems to pulse between us, flashing bright and blue and noisy as static. My lungs react by sucking in a noisy gulp of breath, and I quickly press my lips together so no other evidence of my arousal can squeak through. His forest-colored eyes are dark with wide pupils that feel intense as they search mine.
Seconds tick past. Seconds that feel as long as summer days.
I swallow, feeling every bodily reflex, the clenching of muscles as I brace for what may happen, the involuntary movement of my throat. I’m so small next to his huge, muscular body, so tiny and insignificant.
He’d have to bend to kiss me, I think, and then I blush because what the fuck? Why am I thinking about kissing when I should be retreating to my room, closing the door, and focusing on anything but how soft his lips look and how even though I’m looking directly at his face, I can sense his hands flexing at his sides, ready to grab me and pull me close?
God, I want that. Grabbing hands and frantic kisses. I want a man who demands things of me without asking, and who can tell when I acquiesce I do so willingly.
Colby’s chest rises and falls on a long breath, as though he’s trying to keep a fingernail grip on his restraint.
I’m holding my breath, waiting, waiting, either for Colby to do something or for me to see sense. As Colby leans in, I feel like Alice, about to tumble down a rabbit hole into a world I’m wholly unprepared for.