Page 158 of On a Fault Line

“Collins…”

“Penelope…”

“You are my bodyguard. You can protect me.”

As if on cue, Collins’s phone buzzes, and his sigh is enough for me to know that I may be winning this battle after all.

“Here’s my reinforcements,” I say under my breath, knowing that Claire and Angie must have worked their magic with my brothers.

I really should take notes from them. It always amazes me when they get my brothers to give in to their wishes.

I know my brothers. They don’t cave under pressure normally, which makes me wonder just what their women do to make them change their minds. But it’s those details I really don’t actually need to know.

Answering his phone, Collins keeps his eyes on me as he listens to who I assume is Graham or Nic on the other end.

“Seven o’clock?” he asks in a low, gravelly voice.

My face beams with the brightest victory smile.

“Yes, understood.”

By the time Collins is off the phone, I am bouncing around him like a demented clown, pumping my fists into the air like I won the Olympics for some niche sport.

“You have forty-five minutes before the limo pulls up in front of the building to pick us up.”

“Which dive bar are we hitting up?”

“Oh, no,” he says smoothly, “we won’t be going to any establishment where you need a tetanus shot first.”

“Oh, c’mon. I heard epic stories from the girls.”

“You think your brothers would ever allow their women to go to any club with security consisting of grainy surveillance cameras or plastic decoys?”

I fake pout. “No fun.”

His eyes narrow. “Be glad you won this battle, because I’ll always win the war.”

“You seem certain.”

“I am. And if you even think about flirting with other men while we are out, you won’t like that side of me.”

“I liked the side of you I just got from you thinking I was flirting with Chris. So…”

“Penelope…”

“Collins…”

“Keep your sass under control or accept the consequences that will certainly ensue.”

And then an idea pops into my head. “So I was wondering if I can try getting your cock to go deeper down my throat. I have been practicing some tech?—”

“What the actual fuck, Penelope?”

Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Now Collins looks frustrated, and he’s rubbing at the back of his neck, which is a telltale sign that he’s stressed.

“I was just thinking that it is fun to have my oxygen supply in the balance. I think I get off a bit on the panic… Who would have thought?”

“You can’t ask questions like these when we have limited time to explore and then expect me not to be walking around with a hard-on all night.”

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