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I wake up and immediately know that something isn’t right. I open my eyes slowly and then freeze as I look over and see that Colton is lying next to me. All of a sudden, the memories of the previous evening come flashing back into my mind. How I’d gone to Sam’s Christmas party, how Isabel had spiked the eggnog, how I’d started dancing and she told me that a good-looking guy was staring at me. I cringe as I think about the way I danced and waved my hands in front of him and the way his fingers slid up my body and squeezed my breasts, and now, here I was.
“Morning, sunshine.” His deep voice is husky, and I notice that his eyes are open and staring at me. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that I know he is giving me on purpose.
“Not a good morning,” I say, sitting up. The sheet falls down and exposes my naked breasts, and I grab it quickly.
“Nothing I haven’t already seen now.” He winks, and I glare at him.
“Last night was a mistake,” I say quickly. “If you’re a gentleman, you will close your eyes so that I can get out of this bed and put on my clothes and—”
“What, you don’t want seconds?” He leans forward and reaches up to kiss me.
I push him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You weren’t saying no to my kisses last night.”
“That’s because I—”
“And you can’t pretend you didn’t know it was me. In fact, I think you did it on purpose.”
“Did what on purpose?” I stare at him, blinking rapidly.
“You teased me so I would come over to you because this is what you’ve wanted all along.” His eyes are wide, and he looks down at his body. “And now you’ve had me, all eight inches of me.”
My jaw drops. “You did not just say that.”
“True,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “It could be eight and a half. I haven’t measured in a long while.”
“Colton Hart, this is not an appropriate conversation to be having with me.”
“Why not?” he says, raising a single eyebrow. He bites down on his lip and runs his fingers through his golden-brown hair.
I try not to stare at his fingers too hard because they are reminding me of what they were doing to me on the dance floor and in his bed the previous evening. Why, oh why, was I so stupid as to agree to a night with him? What had I been thinking? “You weren’t thinking,” I muttered under my breath. I had been thinking with one body part and one body part alone.
“What are you saying?” he asks, gazing at me. There’s a chuckle in his voice now, and I know he thinks it’s absolutely hilarious.
“I’m saying that last night was not something I would have thought I’d do in a million years.”
“But you hoped to, didn’t you?”
“No, I did not.” My hands are on my hips now. I jump out of the bed, holding the sheet to me. That is a mistake. I look down at his naked body lying there. His cock is at attention. “You’re hard?!” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I blush as he winks again. He runs his right hand down to his cock and holds it in his hand.
“What, you’ve never heard of morning wood?” he says, glancing at me and smiling. “And up until about two minutes ago, you were pressed up against my cock and I was thinking that we’d have a morning quickie and—”
“Oh my gosh, please stop. This is not happening. Oh my gosh.” I close my eyes and count to three. “One, two, three.” I open them hoping I’m gonna be in my bed and waking from a dream, but I just see his cocky face staring back at me. I can’t believe it. I slept with Colton Hart, my brother’s best friend, my archnemesis, the man who fired me after one hour of working for him, and the same man who told everyone that I was unprofessional when I hadn’t done anything unprofessional. He was just a jackass. I couldn’t stand him, and yet I slept with him because… I didn’t even know why. Sure, I’d been horny, and sure, he’d had the moves, but as soon as I’d seen his face, his twinkling, familiar, blue eyes, I should have said no. I should have gone back into the law firm and found some geeky lawyer to dance with and then just gone home.
“Considering it?” he says, looking at his Rolex because, of course, he would have a Rolex—he’s Colton Hart.
“I’m not considering anything. I need to leave right now, and we are never going to talk about this. In fact, I don’t want to see you—again.”
“You do realize your brother is my best friend?”
“He may be your best friend, but that doesn’t mean we have to hang out.”
“But your parents invited me over for Christmas lunch.”
“Well, then, we don’t have to see each other for three weeks,” I say, counting on my fingers. “We have three weeks until Christmas. And then at Christmas, we’ll pretend that we haven’t seen each other in years. Then we’ll have lunch and we’ll leave and forget this ever happened.”
