The Introvert's Guide to Online Dating - Emma Hart Page 0,3
a tray full of donuts. “Is this lunch?”
“We’re adults,” I replied, eying the smorgasbord of goodness. “Damn right donuts are lunch.”
CHAPTER TWO – TORI
rule two: if you’re looking for a relationship, it’s probably not the best idea to be screwing someone else.
If Colton didn’t open his front door, I was going to fucking murder him.
But seriously. It was pitch-black out here, and I was wearing little more than lingerie and a trench coat, and my nipples were reaching a point where they were about to pucker so hard they were going to fall off.
Also, I didn’t want anyone to see me here, as he well knew.
Hence the trench coat.
I felt a bit like Inspector Gadget. You know, if Inspector Gadget was a woman and wandered around in Fenty’s finest G-strings.
I knocked on his door one more time. I swear to God, if he didn’t get here now, I was leaving. I wasn’t going to stand here and wait for him to let me in.
I had a relatively okay vibrator at home. One that didn’t have a mouth to piss me off with.
Luckily for Colton, he could do other things with his mouth.
There was a click, followed by the door opening after what felt like forever. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I was on the phone.”
I shoved him out the way and stepped inside. “Colton, if we agree that I’m coming over, I expect the door open right then. You told me to come at ten.” I pulled the hood down and popped the collar back so it was no longer hiding my face. “If anyone finds out now, I’m never going to hear the end of it.”
Colt stepped aside, wearing little more than sweatpants and damp hair. My fucking kryptonite, thank you very much.
“I know, I know, but Kinsley wouldn’t stop talking about Grandpa’s birthday party. I told her I had to go but it’s fuckin’ ten o’clock at night, Tori. It’s not like I have a place to be that’s a plausible excuse for getting her to shut up.”
“You told me to come here!”
He locked the door behind me and ran his fingers through his dark hair, pausing to run his eyes the length of my body in a slow, almost delectable way that made a shiver dance down my spine.
Not that I would ever let Colton Lane know that a mere look made my body respond to him.
No, thank you.
No, siree.
That was a very dangerous precedent to set, as far as I was concerned.
The less Colt knew about how I felt, the better.
“Whatever. Next time, text me and tell me not to bother. I’d rather not walk around town wearing basically no clothes unless I absolutely have to.”
“No clothes? What are you not wearing under that coat?”
I stalked into his kitchen, leaving him behind me. I knew there was wine in his fridge because it was my wine, and while I didn’t make a habit of spending any time here that I didn’t need to, I needed a drink.
“No socks,” I retorted smartly.
“And.”
“That’s it. No socks. I’m feeling naked.” Like I’m not wearing stockings held up by a belt. God.
I rescued the bottle from the fridge, grabbed a glass down from the cabinet, and poured myself a drink.
“It’s like you want me to come over there and rip it off to find out for myself.”
“No. If you rip it off, you’ll rip off the buttons.” I turned and stared at him. “If you do that, I’ll punch you.”
His lips pulled to one side in an infuriatingly sexy smirk. “You’re not wearing pants, are you?”
“Or a shirt.” I sipped my wine. “Or a sweater. So I’m cold.”
He walked across the kitchen and stood in front of me, leaning forward to rest his hands on the counter either side of me. “I can help with that.”
“Mhmm.” I took another drink. “I’m sure you can. But since you’re the reason I’m cold, it’s a moot point.”
“If I’m the reason you’re cold, it seems like the perfect excuse to let me warm you up again.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips against my jaw.
Despite the rush of warmth that went through me, I sighed.
Colton pulled back. “What’s wrong? Are you that mad at me?”
“No.” I waved a hand dismissively. “It’s been a long day. I’m sorry. I should have texted and canceled.”
“You talk to your mother this afternoon, didn’t you?”
Well, that was a mood killer.
“Victoria.”
“Do not call me Victoria,” I ground out. “Yes, I spoke to my