Page 67 of Colton's Last Resort

He saw it form on her lips anyway. “You think this is funny?” he asked.

“I do,” she admitted, holding the towel high.

He cursed and rearranged his feet so that he was facing her.

She saw what he’d been trying to hide from her. His erection was at full mast, the soaked boxer briefs straining to contain it. “I think it wants you to let it out.”

“You’re right.” He snatched the towel.

She watched him scrub the terry cloth roughly over his face and hair. He toweled off his chest and arms before wrapping the towel around his waist. “What’s stopping you?”

“What if you don’t like what happens when I do? What then?”

She considered him. “What wouldn’t I like?” When he didn’t answer, she gripped the towel on either side of his waist and yanked him toward her. She stole a kiss while she had him on the back foot, hardening her mouth over his to prove a point.

He hummed in unconscious agreement.

She pushed him away abruptly and watched him fumble for a second in protest. “You want to know another secret?” she asked when he opened his eyes.

“I told you,” he said after a moment. “I want all your secrets.”

“There’s nothing I don’t like about you, Noah Steele,” she revealed.

His chest lifted in a rushing breath.

“Why not show me the rest?” she suggested.

“You don’t do this,” he ventured. “You don’t just take a man to bed. Not without flowers, dinner. Hell, candles. Silk sheets. Some ridiculous dress meant to tie your man’s tongue in a knot.”

“Maybe.”

“We didn’t have dinner,” he noted. “I didn’t bring you flowers.”

“No,” she admitted.

“I don’t see any candles.”

The candles were all inside her, she thought desperately. They stood tall under columns of flame. The wax melted away and puddled, refusing to cool. She wanted his hands all over her again, and it was driving her wild.

She wouldn’t beg this time. She wanted him to beg.

She would make him.

“I’m not wearing a dress,” she pointed out.

“You’re not wearing much of anything and damned if that helps.”

She smiled. “But I do have a bed with silk sheets.”

“And you want me to mess them up?”

“Don’t you get it?” she challenged. “You can shred my sheets, for all I care.”

A slow grin worked its way across the forbidding line of his mouth. “You are, far and away, the most bewitching woman I know.”

She closed her hands over the knot of her towel, untying it. Letting it fall to her feet, she grabbed him by the hand. “You know what’s better than flowers?”

“What?”

---