Page 17 of Colt

“Why do you always argue with me? I think it’s a great idea.”

“Then why bother asking me? I won’t do it, Chelsea. If you want to fire me, go ahead. But I work from six in the morning until past nine at night most days. I’m exhausted by the time I get home and now you want to add more to my plate,” he snapped.

“I’m your boss and when I give you an order, you do it. No questions asked,” she said through gritted teeth as she stepped closer to him.

He leaned down, locking eyes with her.

“No,” he said firmly before straightening up, crossing his arms, and glaring at her.

Chelsea clenched her fists, fighting the urge to slap him for no reason other than he was one of the most infuriating men she had ever met.

“Come on, Colt,” Chelsea pleaded.

He sighed. “I know I’m the manager and it would be more efficient if I delegated some tasks to the ranch hands, but I actually enjoy doing the work and it benefits everyone when we all pitch in. But there’s no way I’m adding riding lessons to my already packed schedule.”

“So, what am I supposed to do? Hire someone else?” Chelsea put her hands on her hips.

“I couldn’t care less about what you do. Either teach them yourself or find someone else to do it. It’s not my problem. But I won’t be doing it.”

Tears welled up in Chelsea’s eyes, and she could feel her heart breaking. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Colt looked surprised by her question. “Hate you? I don’t hate you. I’m simply telling you the truth.”

“This is never going to work,” Chelsea said, shaking her head in defeat.

“Why? Because I don’t blindly follow your orders? I’ve been a manager here for a long time and I know how things work. If you would just let me do my job, everything would run smoothly. But instead, you challenge me at every opportunity. I know what I’m doing,” he reiterated.

Feeling hurt and frustrated, Chelsea turned to leave, but Colt grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

She turned away from him, trying to hide her tears.

“Please, just let me do my job, Chelsea. I’ve been here for twenty-six years, and I know what I’m doing.”

Chelsea lifted her chin and met his gaze, a playful grin spreading across her lips.

“Twenty-six years,” she shook her head, teasingly. “As I said, the wrong side of forty,” she murmured, watching Colt try to contain his laughter.

“Ouch,” he winced, pretending to be hurt.

Chelsea laughed and their eyes locked once again, the chemistry between them palpable. He smelled amazing; she could tell he had freshly shaved, but there was still a hint of stubble on his jawline. She couldn’t resist stealing a glance at his tempting lips before meeting his gaze once more. To hell with it, she thought. Just go for it.

Closing the distance between them until their bodies were pressed together, Chelsea wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He was taken aback at first, but quickly responded with equal fervor as their tongues moved together.

Breaking apart, Colt looked into her eyes with a hunger that only intensified Chelsea’s desire.

“What do you want?” he asked huskily.

“You,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off him.

Colt shook his head slightly. “Not good enough. Tell me.”

“I want you to make—”

“No. There’s no love involved. Hell, do we even like each other? This is about sex, so tell me what you want.”

Gathering her courage, Chelsea met his intense gaze head-on. “I want you to… fuck me,” she stated boldly.

Colt’s expression changed from hunger to pure desire as he gazed back at her in silence for a few moments before finally nodding in agreement.

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