Yet throughout high school, she kept crawling back for more. Never again. I'm better than that now.
"Hey, Lindsay. You're early."
At that deep, masculine voice, her eyes flashed up, and made contact with Colt for the first time.
Holy f**k.
Colt looked devastatingly handsome in a finely pressed purple dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows with bulging biceps underneath, and a pair of black slacks. At six-foot-two with broad shoulders and every fiber of his being oozing control and assertiveness, he fit Lindsay's qualifications for an older man to a T and then some: stylish, windblown brown hair; smoldering, dark eyes; a rigid jaw peppered with scruff; and a ripped, tanned physique.
A quickening flared in the depths of her belly. What a snack. Colo
