CHAPTER TEN
RILEY
––––––––
I glance around, then let out a groan when I realize I planted a small palm in the wrong damn place.
Cursing, I climb to my feet.
Bloody Colt Winters. I’d drag you upstairs, tear off your clothes and fuck you until you screamed.
“Boss,” Jeb calls out. “Are we using these plants too?”
“Yes. All of them.” I reply with a tone of impatience. It’s not like we brought them with us for fucking company.
Jesus. I’m so grumpy.
It doesn’t help that I can’t sleep. Every night I toss and turn thinking of Colt. Of his heated gaze studying me like I’m his next victim.
Maybe I am.
Maybe this is all a game to him. It probably is. And yet, like a fish in a river, it seems I’ve been caught in his net.
For the moment.
I expect to snap out of it any day now.
Which is why I have memorized the time difference between Melbourne and Manhattan.
Pathetic.
Last night we spoke on FaceTime until I pretended I was falling asleep.
Colt’s delicious American accent and his masculine rasps are too delicious to fall asleep to.
His naughty promises if I was in his home.
He’s clever enough not to go too far and scare me off, but just enough that my thighs clench and I want to hear more.
I do eventually fall asleep around three once I’ve sorted out the ache he leaves me with.
Then my stupid alarm goes off at five thirty. Landscapers start earlier than office workers, but we tend to finish up mid-afternoon. Unless you own the business like I do. I spend the rest of the day on the computer doing billing, marketing, and administration.
It’s a long day.
Today I turned up forty-five minutes late and my team looked me up and down, like I should have lost a limb—the only excuse I’d have for not showing up before them like I always do.
Nope. I still have both legs. Legs, a cheeky billionaire in New York City keeps telling me he wants over his shoulders.
Lord, that man knows how to get a girl wound up and feeling desperate.
Every day I think, today will be the day I never hear from him again. It never is. When I ask what we are doing, Colt tells me to lower the phone and find out.
No way. I am not having phone sex with him.
I’d probably do something wrong.
Fart.
Not get aroused.
Or worse...forget he was there and get myself off so well... yeah, that would be bad.
Or is it the point of the entire act? God, see? It’s just best I don’t.
The team starts to pack up and a quick glance at my watch tells me it's already four in the afternoon. Which is two in the morning in New York City.
Colt will be asleep.
Colt.
Colt.
Colt.
Colt.
Arghh.
I can’t get him out of my mind. His gorgeous smile, the curl in his hair, his long eyelashes, and green eyes. The man is so well groomed its almost intimidating. The scruff on his face is so sexy it makes my toes curl.
Then there is the black leather bracelet he wears constantly. It’s such a contrast to the rest of him.
Do you scream, Riley?
No.
You would with me.
That breathtaking moment will live with me forever. Colt is going to destroy my hope of ever wanting another man with his husky late night calls, butterfly-inducing compliments, and lick-worthy jawline.
Yes, I’ve thought about it.
I dream about it when I finally fall asleep.
Packing up, I climb into my truck and head to the supermarket. I need a few things for dinner.
Grabbing a trolley, I head up and down the aisles unfocused. As I’m selecting a few tomatoes, my phone rings.
Colt.
With my heart racing, I clear my throat and swipe, trying to act as cool as I can.
“Gidday,” I answer, leaning into my accent, even though I never use the well-known Aussie phrase.
“Hello, baby.” Colt hooks his bare arm behind his head, and my ovaries sit bolt upright.
He’s shirtless, lying in a semi-dark bedroom, I assume—and looks like the hot lead actor in a movie.
“This feels almost inappropriate,” I laugh, glancing around. “I’m at the grocery store buying vegetables.”
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“No. God, no. I eat meat.” I move further down the aisle.
“Good to know.” Colt flashes me a dirty smile.
My cheeks burn red-hot.
He laughs roughly. “Making you blush like that is my life's purpose.”
I’m all out of sorts. I start picking up random items and fill my cart. “Well, that’s sad.” I dart up to the counter and start unloading so I can pay and get out of here.
“On the contrary.” His voice is now husky. “Although making your body blush in person would be so much better.”
I swallow loudly.
“That will be thirty-five dollars—”
“Yup, fine.” I hurry the teenager with a wave of my plastic, then swipe the card, grab the bag of god knows what and dart out to my truck.
“It would be dangerous and will never happen.” I slide into the driver’s seat and put my phone on the holder. “You need to behave. Especially when I’m in public.”
Colt grins. A dirty, salacious grin. One that has my tummy in knots.
I flop back into the leather and focus on his face...and chest. I’m so frustrated I can’t touch him. And honestly, a man as hot as he is has never paid a single dose of attention my way.
He’s hard to say no to.
But eventually he’ll get bored with me.
I need to end all of this before I get completely addicted to him. Mom would kill me if she knew I was wasting time on a long-distance whatever this is instead of dating.
Which has me wondering.
“Colt.” I tilt my head. “Don’t you date?”
“Not really. Sometimes.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I should have asked.
“No. Do you have a boyfriend?” He sits up on his elbow, his eyes darkening.
I shake my head.
He relaxes back. “Good. Then what’s the problem?”
I shrug.
I don’t want to tell him I’m confused. That I wish he lived in Australia. That I wish I was in his bed with him right now. That I wished he would show me how he could make me scream.
That I think about him twenty-four-seven.
That I’m waiting for him to get bored with this—of me—and drop me like a hot potato.
“Why are you awake?”
“Because I was having a sex dream about you and it was so real I woke up. Hard.”
Starting the truck, I laugh, then reverse out of the park.
“Don’t believe me?” he rasps.
Oh, I believe him, but I’m not having this conversation. Colt Winters is the kind of man who will take a mile if you give him an inch. And I know we aren’t talking about a few inches here. I’ve seen enough of him to know there will be double digit inches.
“Doesn’t matter. Not going there.”
He groans, and it sends shivers over my skin. I try to focus on the road, but it’s like I’m living in an alternative universe.
“One day you’ll admit you want to fuck me.”
I almost crash into the car in front of me, slamming on my brakes.
“Colt! Jesus.” I wave out an apologetic hand to the driver in front of me and ignore the bird he flings back.
Glaring at the phone screen, I let out an annoyed groan. “Fine. I want to fuck you. Are you happy now?”
I glimpse his smile as I focus back on the road.
“Very. Goodnight, baby.”
The call ends.
I’m like a deer in the headlights as I drive home, wondering what the hell just happened.
Maybe he’s bi-polar.
More like playing with me.
God. What am I having for dinner with the mishmash of items I purchased?
Stupid hot billionaire.