Page 38 of A Labor of Hate
“You’re saying I don’t know how to flirt because I’m too regimented?”He didn’t wait for a reply before tossing his tie off to the side.
Oh, crap.That couldn’t be a good sign.He never threw anything on the floor voluntarily, least of all his clothes.
He advanced slowly, like a panther stalking its prey, his eyes locked on mine and filled with a fire I’d never seen before.
I stepped backward with each step he took forward, tipping my chin up in defiance despite my retreat.
“Too exacting?”he continued, his voice low.
My back pressed against the wall before I even noticed he’d shifted our trajectory.He stopped entirely too close to me, sending my heart ricocheting around my ribcage as he leaned his outstretched arm oh-so-casually against the wall.
There were still a good eight inches between us, and yet it felt like being this close to him had sucked the air out of the room.The weight of his undivided attention could create its own gravity.Pull me into its orbit.I felt small and vast at the same time, like one world in a galaxy of others—but the only one he cared to devote time to studying.
He fingered one of my loose curls with his free hand, watching it stretch and bounce back as he released it.“Have you ever thought that it might be a strength to be so thorough?To take my time to know someone perfectly—inside and out?To memorize every inch of them?Worshipevery inch of them?”
My brain stopped working.My lungs, too.All that reverberated through my head was a low whoosh like the distant roar of a waterfall.
He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper and his breath feathering against my face.“Have you considered it might be a strength to be so restrained?So disciplined?So” —his murmur became a purr that made liquid fire pool in my core— “methodical?Or how that could benefit my partner whenso many otherswould lose control?”
The roar in my head crescendoed until everything but Colt faded into the background.My fingertips pressed into the wall to keep the forbidden fantasies dancing at the edge of my mind at bay.
His whisper tickled the shell of my ear and sent a shudder through me.“Have you considered” —he inhaled deeply and paused, body going tense and rigid once more— “that I don’twantyour help?”
Before I could even process what he’d said, he backed off and walked away like nothing happened.He retrieved his tie, his voice cocky as he called over his shoulder.“I don’t need flirting lessons, Lex.”
I stared, dumbfounded into silence.My knees threatened to turn to jelly and buckle under me.
What thefreakjust happened?
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
THIS WASONE of the few instances I’d bite the bullet and stick a twenty in Dominick’s swear jar, because the words flying through my mind couldn’t adequately capture the surreality of the situation without a mountain of four-letter ones sprinkled in.
Did Colt flirt with me just to prove he knew how?And, more importantly, why had itworked?
I shook that thought away with an aggravated huff.Ithadn’tworked.I was surprised he’d do something so spontaneous and out of character, is all.This didn’t prove anything.And even if itdidprove he could flirt, it just meant his personality drove the women away after he managed to convince them to agree to a date.
Satisfied that I’d regained my wits, I stormed after him.“That’s debatable, for one.And for two, landing a woman and keeping her are two different things.”
His sigh gave away his position, leading me to the closet in the master bedroom where he was hanging up his tie and putting away his shoes.“And I suppose you have ideas for how you’re going to help with that, too, huh?”
“Yep.”I grinned, choosing to ignore his aggravation.“Somethingmust happen between convincing the girl to go out with you and convincing her to go steady that makes her change her mind.”
“Go steady?”
I tipped my chin up.“It’s a thing.”
“Yeah, in the fifties, maybe.”
“See, this is why you’re single.You’re too judgmental.”
He shot me an unimpressed look.“The irony ofyoutelling me that isn’t lost on me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He brushed past me, only stopping when I followed him like the annoying puppy I was.“It means you think you know everything about me because I dress a certain way or have certain habits—none of which are harmful, by the way, yet you can’t go a single day without harping on them.”
“No I—” My argument died in my throat.
