“I swear to god you’re asking for trouble, woman,” I say, my voice dropping low.
I tamp down the urge to take her over my knee and redden her ass until she’s moaning my name.
She trails a manicured red nail along my collar. “Is that a threat or an invitation?” A wicked smirk crosses her lips. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you staring at my ass earlier. Can’t say I blame you. I do look damn good in this dress.”
Christ, I wish she was wrong.
Against my better judgment, my gaze drifts to the emerald slip dress clinging to her like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Her scarlet hair spills over her shoulders, a striking contrast against the green fabric. She’s dangerously beautiful, a siren who knows exactly the effect she has on me, no matter how hard I try to appear indifferent.
In most situations, I’m calm and collected. But Charlie has a way of pushing every single one of my buttons. The problem is, the second her mouth tilts into that signature smirk, I forget that our default setting is to rile each other up and that she’s supposed to be off-limits. I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how those pouty lips would taste or how good they’d look stretched around my cock while I fuck that smart mouth.
“For someone who’s supposedly irritated by my presence, you sure stare a lot,” she says, running her finger up my throat and tipping my chin upward. “I was right. It’s the dress, isn’t it?”
I force my eyes back to her face. “I don’t think you could handle my brand of attention.”
Her smirk deepens. “Wow. Emotionally unavailableandpretending you’re too much for me. Adorable.” She shifts closer, the sweet scent of her coconut shampoo flooding my senses. “Why don’t you stop dodging the truth and admit it already?”
“Admit what?”
“That you want me,” she purrs.
Fuck, this woman is going to wreck my self-control.
My grip on the beer bottle tightens as I force a neutral expression. “Believe me, if I were interested, you’d know.”
Charlie bats her lashes. “How so?”
I glance around to make sure no one is within earshot. Only a few stragglers remain, clustered next to the dessert table on the far side of the backyard. Most of the guests left after Walker and Birdie went back to their place, and at some point while I was talking with Charlie, my parents must have gone to bed.
This is where I should excuse myself and head inside. Yet, against my better judgment, I stay seated.
I finish my beer in one long pull and set the bottle on the table before shifting closer to Charlie, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I’d pin you up against the barn with my tongue down your throat, and you’d be begging me to carry you to my loft and fuck you until you couldn’t walk straight.”
A flush rises to her cheeks, her eyes growing wide. If only she knew how often I’ve imagined the same scene. Except in my fantasy, we never make it to the loft. I have her bent over the nearest hay bale, my cock buried deep inside her while she cries out my name.
“If you’re so unaffected”—she leans in closer, her breath warm against my cheek—“then why are you touching me?”
I glance down, only now realizing my hand is resting on her leg, fingers spread across her skin. It’s dangerously warm and soft, and my grip tightens, sending an unwelcome jolt of desire straight to my cock.
“It’s a temporary lapse in judgment,” I mutter defensively. “Don’t read into it.”
She tilts her head, studying me.
Charlie can sniff out vulnerability from a mile away, and if she even suspects she’s gotten under my skin, she’ll never let me hear the end of it. I’m not about to give her that kind of leverage. Not when I’m unsure whether she’s toying with me or if she’s just as turned on by this intoxicating push and pull as I am.
“Interesting,” she says, her eyes flicking down, “considering your hand is still on my thigh.”
“Shit,” I hiss, yanking my hand away.
She lets out a melodic laugh as she takes another sip of her vodka soda. “Listen, Heath, it’s no secret you’re not exactly my favorite person.”Ouch.“Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun tonight. God knows everyone else is getting laid. Why not us?”
Holy fucking hell.
All these years of keeping my distance are now hanging by a thread. I’m convinced she must be a witch sent here specifically to test every ounce of my self-control.
“You don’t want to fuck me, sweetheart. I’m the moody prick you can’t stand, and I’m too old for you.” Not to mention, I’m her best friend’s brother.
All reasons she should remain strictly off-limits.
