Page 61 of Right Number, Wrong Man
Chuckling, he leans in and his nose brushes mine. His breath tickles my lips and I smell bourbon and his Sunday cigar—another tradition he shares with Earl—on it.
“I’m not in the habit ofkillingbrats. I onlypunishthem,” he whispers.
What the hell did he say?
My brain is on fire, my thoughts consumed by heat and panic and alcohol. God, he smells nice. The bourbon and the smoke, mixing with the fresh sweat he worked up moving the boxes…
Realization hits like a sledgehammer, making me wheeze.
Okay, good news: Colt doesn’t want to murder me and turn my meat into stew. Crisis averted.
Bad news: I’m in his arms, pressed against his chest. We’re hip to hip. His heat sinks into me through the barrier of our clothes, and I’m burning up.
Help. Me.
Something thick and long and hard pushes against my stomach. Is that hiscock? If it is, it’s big.
Wait,whyis he hard?
A pulse throbs between my legs, my panties growing damp. The last thing I need is to lust after my deceased husband’s brother. But I’m not.
I’m absolutely not lusting after Colt.
This is a regular, physiological reaction to an adrenaline-fueled situation, and it must be the same for him. Otherwise, it would mean Colt is hardfor me. That’s about as likely as hell freezing over.
He’s got an adrenaline-boner, and I have an I-thought-I-was-about-to-get-murdered-wet-pussy.Very normal.
He straightens and tugs me forward while he backs into a corner, his movement startling me into action.
“Well, if you’re not going to murder me, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask.
“Protecting you, Spitfire.”
I scoff. “From what?”
He spins me around so fast I get dizzy—and then even dizzierfrom the feeling of his cock against my ass. With two fingers, he tips my chin up and directs my gaze toward the door where I stood before.
“I’m protecting you fromthat,” Colt says, and my blood curdles.
22
COLT
The loveof my life is pressing her juicy ass against my groin. No big deal. I’ve only imagined this situation three million times, but now that it’s happening, I can’t fully enjoy her rear cheeks sandwiching my cock.
Not with Hailey being terrified of that massive spider dangling in front of the door, effectively trapping us in the shed. If I hadn’t pulled her away, it would’ve landed right on her head.
Before this eight-legged intruder ruined everything, we had a moment. A heated one. At least I think so—right after she figured out I wasn’t gonna murder her. Good Lord, she really does have an overactive imagination.
But did she know I was flirting with her? If she did, she didn’t seem entirely put off by it.
Cockblocked by a spider. This ain’t my proudest moment, but at least it’s not another grief boner.
Hailey spins around and twists her fingers into my shirt as if she means to scale me like a tree. “Make it go away!” she pleads, shaking violently. “Kill it! Please, Colt… kill it!”
My heart is in my throat as I frame her face with myhands and make her look up at me. She chews on her pink lips, wide eyes glassy with tears.
Kiss her! the voice inside my head screams.
