Page 24 of The Break Out

Mine shoot up in surprise. “You want me to throw water on you and then slap the shit out of you?”

He just smirks.

“Then you’ll let me go home in peace?” I question.

He nods just once.

I feel like there has to be a catch here. Something is up, but with how much he’s pissed me off lately I’m also not about to turn down the chance to feel my palm sting from it meeting his ridiculously, annoyingly handsome face.

“Fine.” I fold my arms across my chest.

He pulls me back over to the bar, turning me so I’m facing it while he crowds me from behind, caging me in with his arms oneither side of me while his body presses into mine. I try to push him away, but he’s like a brick wall.

He flags down the bartender while I’m trying to find a way to possibly kick him in the balls in this position, but he has me pressed against the wood too tight. Speaking of wood, why can I–

“One hurricane shot, and my friend here will be the one giving it to me.” He sounds so cocky, and I just roll my eyes.

The bartender just nods before handing over the two cups then looks at me, “Don’t hurt him too bad, sweetheart.” With a wink he goes back to helping other patrons.

Colton spins me around quickly and I see the look on his face isn’t as playful as it was before. He looks almost angry, or annoyed, but it’s not directed at me. The way his eyes narrow on the good-looking bartender that just gave us the shots and if I didn’t know any better it almost looks like he’s…jealous. But that wouldn’t make sense because he knows there’snothingbetween us and there never will be.

“Hop on up, Princess.” His gaze softens slightly looking back at me. Mine does the opposite.

I must not move fast enough for him because not even five seconds later his big hands are gripping my waist and pushing me up onto the bar. I yelp in surprise as he maneuvers me a bit too easily for my liking. And not because it makes me uncomfortable, but because I don’t like how it’s making me feel in my lady bits. I’m a strong independent woman wholoathesthe man in front of me. My vagina doesn’t get to react positively to a single thing he does.

Which is why I’m ignoring the slight throb and feeling of wetness that may or may not be present.

He also stands a lot closer to me than the other guy did with the bartender. While he wasn’t touching her, Colton is standing between my legs, my knees grazing his hips. He takes off his baseball cap, shakes out his hair before putting it back on. Backwards.

I hate how good he looks.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and gravely.

“Are you?” I counter.

He smirks while lifting the cup with the shot up to his lips and downs it easily. As soon as he pulls the cup away, I’m throwing the water onto his face then immediately my hand connects to his cheek in a harsh, loud slap. My palm stings from the contact, but I won’t lie, it felt pretty good to smack him.

Colton seems unaffected by any pain he may be feeling, which is a bit annoying to me because I slapped him hard. Before I can move or say anything, he reaches out, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and yanks me forward while his mouth crashes onto mine.

I freeze. I can’t believe this is happening. And I can’t believe that it feels…good. When his tongue swipes against my lower lip, I’m ashamed to admit that I open, letting it sweep inside my mouth. He tastes like the alcohol he just drank. My head is spinning. My skin is buzzing, starting where his lips are on mine and where his hands are holding me by the back of my neck and my hip.

When he presses forward so I can feel the bulge of what I’m refusing to admit feels…substantial I start to realize what I’m doing. AndwhoI’m doing it with. So, I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and bite down. Hard. I expect him to break apart at the sharp contact, but he doesn’t. In fact, I feel the growl he lets out before deepening the kiss further.

I squeak in surprise at his reaction. And despite all the positive feelings I’m having, mostly in my pants, I need to end this. I push against his chest and our contact finally breaks. The look he’s giving me is full of smugness and lust. The damn backwards hat and tight t-shirt aren’t helping.

I hate him.

Sure, he’s hot, but Ihate him.

“What was that?” I snap, finally finding my voice.

“That was a kiss,” he responds with a shrug.

I roll my eyes. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. And I tend to do what I want.”

“Well, I didn’t want it. Let me down,” I command since he’s still standing too close and if I jump down then our bodies will be flush and that’s the last thing I want right now. Or ever.

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