HOLY SHIT! WHAT am I doing? He was going to kiss me and I was going to let him. My heart is racing as Nicole bounds up to me, wearing Brighton’s sweatshirt. She smiles at me and tugs on the sleeve of Maxton’s. I thought for sure, me throwing his words back at him would set off his cocky attitude. Instead, it had the opposite effect. I could see the heat in his eyes. He wanted to devour me and I wanted to let him.
I link arms with Nic and we walk back across the bridge. “That man looks like he’s going to eat you alive. What the hell did I miss?” she whisper-shouts.
“I lost my head for a minute, that’s all. He was… close and smells… amazing and it threw me off. Just a minor lapse in judgment that will not happen again,” I tell her.
“Uh huh. Anyway, Brighton is… I can’t even describe it. I really like him,” she says.
She doesn’t need to tell me this. First of all, she has said this before, and second, any fool could see that the two of them are smitten. “He seems like a great guy. I’m happy for you.”
The guys catch up to us, but stay behind. “Now, let’s give you a tour of the house,” Brighton says. You can tell he’s not ready for the night to end. Nicole didn’t think this through. If I had not ridden over here with her, she could be curled up in his bed. We all know it’s going to happen.
Nicole stops and turns to face them. “Sounds good,” she tells him. He steps forward and reaches for her hand; he gently pulls her toward the house. This leaves me trailing behind with Maxton, yet again.
We try our best to ignore each other, at least I try my best. I follow along and ooh and ahh at the right places. It’s not a hardship. This house is amazing. I’m again reminded of my initial thought when we arrived earlier. This does not feel like the house of two confirmed bachelors; this feels like a home. Something I miss more than I realized.
We stop at a door. It’s at the end of the hall. I realize Nicole and Brighton are in the room directly across. I feel him come in close behind me. “This is mine,” he says as he slaps me on the ass with one hand and reaches over my shoulder with the other to push the door open.
Once we are in the room, he walks around me and sits on the edge of the bed.
“You couldn’t handle me,” I mumble under my breath as I walk further into the room. Taking it all in. It appears that Maxton has supersonic hearing. He stands and stalks toward me. Two steps and he’s right in front of me, once again invading my personal space. My body reacts to him as my nipples harden and I press my legs together. Suddenly, his “this is mine” statement means something completely different.
He bends down and his shoulder hits my belly as he picks me up. I protest by beating my fists on his back. It’s a short ride with his long legs and I find myself sitting on the bed, Maxton between my legs leaning over me. I lean my head back to look at him and he takes advantage of my exposed neck. He runs his tongue from my collarbone to my ear. “I can handle you, sweetheart. The question is… can you handle me?” I can feel my legs quivering; apparently, so can he. He places his big hands on my thighs and runs them up and down. “You’re quaking for my touch.”
I realize I’m sitting on his bed, two seconds away from letting him seduce me. I’m about to become another one of many, something I said I would never be. What is it about him that reduces my brain to mush?
Placing my hands against his chest, I push with all of my strength and he doesn’t move. He’s a big guy, but I’m not afraid of him. “Maxton, please,” I say. I thought maybe, if I was nice, he would relent and let me up.
Instead, his eyes flame with lust as he moves in closer. I can now feel his erection against my center and I want to moan at the simple contact. Jesus! What is he doing to me? “Are you begging for me, pretty girl?” His voice is deep and laced with the same desire I see in his eyes.
“No! Please, let me up. This is not happening,” I tell him, pushing again on his chest. This time he steps away from me. He runs his fingers through his hair, and for a split second, I think he might be just as affected. I know he wants me. I could feel the evidence, see it in his eyes. But for that one split second, I thought I could see that it might be more than that. However, the look on his face is gone just as quick as it arrived.
It’s just my mind playing tricks on me. I want him; he’s sexy as hell—tall, muscles in spades, strong jaw line, all that thick dark hair, the scruff on his face, and let’s not forget about those eyes! He has my hormones working overtime, and I need to keep my head clear. I know he sees me as a challenge. He just needs to realize I’m one challenge he is not going to win.
Taking a deep breath, I rise from the bed and walk out of his bedroom. I hear Brighton and Nicole across the hall. I just keep walking until I’m back in the kitchen. I sit myself down on a stool at the island and wait. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and tap on the Facebook app. I leisurely scroll through my newsfeed. I’m not really paying much attention, just trying to look busy.
I hear footsteps as Maxton joins me. He reaches into the fridge and pulls out two bottles of water. He sets one in front of me as he downs the other.
“Thank you.”
He nods before taking the stool next to me. He too pulls out his phone. I assume he’s doing the same thing as me. Trying to look busy. Trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Trying to avoid the chemistry that sparks between us. I will admit to that, but I want more. I know from my body’s reaction to him that even one time with Maxton and I would be destroyed when he walks away.
I DOWNED THE entire bottle of water, trying to cool my shit down. I had to stay back in my room for a few minutes to talk my dick down. Fuck, the sight of her leaning back on her elbows, her legs around my hips. I want nothing more than to sink inside her and stay there… for days.
I noticed when I came in that she was on Facebook. I take the stool beside her and pull out my phone. I tap on the search button and search for her name. Immediately, I see her picture pop up.
Kensington James.
I click the button to send her a friend request. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her phone vibrate on the counter with a notification, I assume. I watch as she picks it up and slides her finger across the screen. A small smile plays on her lips. My phone dings with a notification. Looking down, I see “Kensington James has accepted your friend request.”
I lean over and bump my shoulder against hers. No words are said as we sit and play with our phones. The silence is comfortable. I scroll through her friends list and see Nicole. I send her a request as well. Brighton is head over heels for her, and maybe if I get to know her better, I can find out what it’s going to take to crack my new friend Kensington.
After I’ve exhausted my daily dose of Facebook, I close out the app and slide my phone back in my pocket. “Why don’t we go start a fire? It’s hard to tell what they’re doing in there,” I suggest.
“Sounds good. I love bonfires,” she says, standing. Her eyes glance back at the hallway. “She really likes him,” she states as she turns to head outside. I grab a blanket from the back of the couch, as well as my sweatshirt, which she folded and placed on the table by the patio door.
Once we are outside, I make my way down to the patio and throw a few logs on the fire before lighting a match. The blaze starts a slow burn. I take the lounger next to Kensington and hand her the sweatshirt. She happily slides back into it and burrows her arms in front of her. Once she seems to be settled, I stand and shake out the blanket. I drape it over her legs and tuck it around her. I don’t want her getting cold.