She Texted Me Which One She Wants

Chapter 4

Once I'd shut the door on all that commotion, I could finally take a proper look at the man I'd just spent the night with.

'He's handsome. He's very handsome.' I'd seen plenty of good-looking men, but his face still had me spellbound.

Dylan and Grant looked a little alike, but they carried themselves very differently.

Grant was all restraint. His shirts were always buttoned right up to his throat, and everything about him said he was off-limits.

Dylan, on the other hand, had a defiant streak. He seemed incapable of being tamed. When we'd kissed in the dark and things had grown heated, he'd let his hand tighten a little around my throat. He'd moaned and gasped, completely unashamed of letting me hear how he felt.

I honestly thought that in a moment like that, if I'd asked to put a collar on him and told him to bark, he'd have agreed without hesitation.

As for their looks, I had Victor and his wandering eye to thank. He wasn't much to look at himself, but every woman he'd been with was a knockout. Both his sons had inherited their mothers' extraordinary looks.

'Why did the Renshaw family stop at two sons?' I shook my head in regret.

"What is it? Are you still thinking about how good it was?"

Dylan gave my arm a playful tug.

I slapped him across the face with a sharp c***k.

"You have no shame!"

I made sure I sounded properly outraged, but I regretted it almost at once. I wasn't actually angry. I'd just gotten a little too carried away with my fantasy and wanted to see how it felt.

To my surprise, Dylan didn't get angry at all. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek where I'd hit him, then stepped closer, looking even more predatory.

"Celia, you weren't nearly this vicious when you were enjoying yourself. So you've had your fun, and now you're turning on me? You mistook me for someone else. You say you love Grant, but you don't even recognize his body. You and my brother haven't so much as kissed, have you?"

With every word, he moved closer. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and when he leaned in to kiss me again, I instinctively raised my hand for another slap.

This time, he caught my wrist and shoved me onto the bed. I pushed at his chest, but I couldn't match his strength.

As he bent over me, I deliberately turned my face away. He chuckled and leaned closer, then his hand brushed something damp.

We both looked down at the same spot. A vivid smear of red stained the white sheets.

Dylan went completely still.