Free South Row by Ghiselle St. James Page A

than life in my tiny apartment, which looks even smaller with him in it.
    Huffing and cursing to myself, I close the fridge, placing orange juice, eggs, bacon and bagels on the counter. Silently, I make us both breakfast. Sitting on the other end of the island, Collin and I eat in silence. I don’t even know why I’m pissed at him.
    I ask a question that has pu zzled me, “How do you know where I live?”
    He takes a deep breath before answering, “I took Scott’s number before you guys left last night. I asked him this morning.”
    He looks at me long and hard then says, “Remind me never to wake a gay dude up before he finishes his beauty rest.”
    I chuckle knowing full well that he got the full on Scott bitch-out treatment. Scott loves to get a full eight hours of sleep on weekends. He is fully functional when he gets it. You want to be around a fully functional Scott who’s had his eight hours. Anything under that, even half an hour under, you get a crabby, mean Scott. You don’t want to be around crabby, mean Scott. Crabby, mean Scott is a bitch.
    “ You deserved it,” I mumble sullenly.
    Collin quirks his eyebrow at me and a smile tugs at his lips, making him look so pretty. Well, pretty in a hunky way. His hair is mussed like he’s been running his hand through it and I want to beg him that the next time he has the itch to run his fingers through it, that he gives me the honors. I’m pathetic.
    “Why are you here, Collin?”
    “I…” Collin pauses and sighs.
    He looks miserable.
    “I wanted to see if you were okay,” he finally answers.
    Not what I wanted to hear.
    “So you came by to see if I choked on my own vomit?” I ask, pissed off.
    “South…” he hedges.
    “Well, as you can see, I didn’t.” I get up from the stool and head for the door, throwing it open. “You can leave n–”
    The door is slammed and towering over me is a very pissed off Collin. I should be scared, but my coochie has different ideas, because angry Collin is fucking hot when he’s roused up like this!
    “ Are you trying to be intimidating? Because it’s not working,” I utter suddenly. Because I can’t keep my mouth shut.
    Collin c urses and shoves away from me. “I must be crazy coming here,” he mumbles to himself.
    He spins on me and I draw back from him.
    “You wanna know why I’m here?” he barks, inching toward me. “I’m here because I can’t get you out of my goddamn head! I’m here because last night I fucking touched you when I promised myself I wouldn’t!”
    My heart cracks. That hurt.
    “I’m here because I feel like a fucking junkie. One taste and it’s not enough. It’s not enough, South.”
    Collin grasps me to him and crushes his lips to mine. My coochie flips in excitement, clapping her hands together and screaming like an overly-excited Valley girl. Oh, my gawd, I want him!
    I grant his probing tongue access and it is like fireworks. People say sparks fly wh en they kiss each other, but it’s like the fourth of July right now! Butterflies break free in my belly and I can’t help squirming, pressing my legs together because my greedy little pussy wants more than a kiss.
    I pull away from Collin and gasp out, “Touch me,” before getting lost in his kisses again.
    He groans and runs his hands over my panty-clad bottom, gripping it. Taking things a step further, I s hove my hands underneath Collin’s shirt and place them on his hot body. He’s blazing. No, seriously, he’s on fire. Argh! Not like that. I mean, yeah, he’s got a hot body, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.
    “ Collin, are you sick? You’re burning up.” I break away from the kiss with concern.
    He chuckles at my concern and it makes me want to twist his nipples. Tempting.
    “No, babe,” he responds. “Just so fucking hot and bothered. I see you in my favorite band’s t-shirt, looking like a fucking wet dream and I’m on fire.”
    I blush scarlet, because I swear to God, that dirty mouth