From Bully To Beloved

Coltonsmirks. “Liar.”

“I’mnota liar.”

His arms land against the wall on either side of my head as he braces himself over me, caging me in. He stares at me with his bright-green eyes. It’s the first time I notice a scar-a small scar over his eyebrow. But then he leans in closer, and my gaze meets his again. His eyes pierce my soul. His presence is so bewildering, and it feels as if he’s a hundred feet tall and as though I’m going to fall into the depth of his gaze. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure you are,” he rumbles. His lips graze the shell of my ear, and little electrodes start exploding everywhere. “The lady doth protest too much, I think.”

I want to push him away, but I’m physically incapable of it. His nearness is intoxicating. Stirring. Thrilling. “Oh…screw you.” What a lame attempt at protest. “For someone…who calls me…a know-it-all, you sure do think you’re right…all the time.” I can hardly think.

His cheek brushes against mine. Even though he shaved this morning, there’s already stubble growing back. It’s so tantalizing, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. When he speaks, his lips are only a few inches away from mine. “If you’re not attracted to me at all, then kiss me.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in.

“Are you insane?” I exclaim. Itryto exclaim. My voice is all hoarse.

There’s no way I’m going to kiss him.

Nope. Not going to happen. I don’t care how inviting his lips look. Or how damp my panties are.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he murmurs softly. “If you’re not attracted to me, then you should have no problem kissing me.”

His lips in three words. Luscious. Soft. Kissable.

“It’s not about having a problem…it’s about the fact that I flat-out don’t want to kiss you.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire, my brain teases.

“Let’s make a little bet then,” Coltonsuggests, pushing off the wall and out of my space.

I breathe out. Thank God. I turn my brain back on. Bet? A bet? That’s what he said?

Oh, good.

I mean: oh, God.

I donotlike where this is going. “I’m not making a bet with you.”

“Relax. Don’t be a spoilsport. Learn to be impulsive, Sera.”

“Screw you, I know how to be impulsive.” Okay, I don’t. Never have, never will. The irony is not lost on me.

He grins. The jerk. “Then what’s the harm in a little friendly bet between husband and wife? Unless you’re scared that I’m going to find out you reallyareattracted to me.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Seriously. I may be his wife on paper, butonlyon paper. He only uses those terms when he wants to get under my skin. I hate that it works every time. Still, he knows me well enough by now to know that I won’t back down from an outright challenge.

“Fine, what kind of bet do you have in mind?” I ask.

He smirks. “If you leave your bra lying around again, you have to kiss me.”

He came up with that betwaytoo fast. Something’s up… But then again, I was the one who started the whole kissing topic. He barely even paused before giving the details. He wants me to fail to prove his stupid point. How can I up the stakes so I’m not the only one losing in this scenario? I consider his terms, staring at him through narrowed eyes.

“This seems one-sided,” I point out. “What doIget out of this?”

“Considering how often you leave the thing lying around, you’ll get a kiss out of it.”

“That’s hardly a prize.”

He clutches his chest with a mocking expression. “Ouch, my wounded pride.”

I take another second to ponder his offer before I come up with a good counteroffer. “How about this? If I leave my bra, I have to kiss you. But if you leave your damn boots in front of the door, then you have to sleep on the couch.”

Still smirking, Coltonasks, “For how long?”

“The rest of our time together.”

He rubs his chin as he thinks it over. I find myself wondering how his stubble would feel gliding across my skin while he moves down my body.

“Interesting,” he says. “I feel like a simple kiss is worth less than a few weeks on that stupid couch.”

“Then you’ll have no problem moving your boots. Besides, it’s easy for you to say that when you haven’t slept on the couch.”

“Fair point. But in that case, I demand arealkiss. Not a simple one. Not a peck. Akiss. With tongue. Lots of tongue. Full make-out session.” He holds out his hand. “Shake on it.”

Sure, why not?

He’s not gonna win.

What else do I have to lose?

At the very least, he’ll stop leaving his stupid boots in the way. I shake his hand, and without warning, he pulls me in close.

“Game on, Sera.”

My heart speeds up, and I slip my hand out of his. “Let the best man-or woman-win.”

I pivot on my heel and head to the bathroom, knowing my bath is going to be on the cooler side tonight-but deep down, I know better. Who am I kidding?

I’m screwed.