Choosing a husband

I crossed my legs on the brown leather couch. 

Tossing my long hair back, I favored Dean Fletcher with a wide smile, not acknowledging Colt’s presence.

“You look stunning, La Rose.” Dean’s deep voice dripped with secret promises.

“Really?” I smiled brightly, fanning my face comically, and the man let out a deep laughter.

“Thank you,” I said finally, my hand slowly running down my thigh. 

Dean was not as confident as his brother. He blushed and looked away.

I finally turned and Colt was giving me a direct stare. 

I stared back with a straight face and tension descended in the room.

But he did not look away. Neither did I.

He sat with careless arrogance, his legs spread, again shirtless, his ringed fingers drumming on the empty seat beside me.

Did the man not own a shirt? He wore every damn thing without one. Suits, coats, now a knee-length blazer.

Dean cleared his throat, and laughed nervously. “I know this is an awkward situation, and an odd question, but have you decided which one of us you’ll marry?”

“Why is it odd?” I turned to him with a frown.

“What?” He blinked.

I stared at him, waiting.

“I mean.” Dean stumbled over his words. “This only used to happen centuries ago.”

“Do you mean modern women do not deserve to pick the best of the bunch?”

“I never said that.” Dean hurriedly began to speak, but paused, squinting at me. 

He looked conflicted, unable to decide if I had just insulted him.

I smiled slowly, “I am afraid we will have to do more archaic things today.” I looked from one brother to the other, and they stared back at me.

“I cannot choose between you two.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“I took great care in accessing both your qualities. Trust me.” I grabbed my bag, “I have a chart illustration if you would like to see.”

“No, no.” They both said in unison.

I smiled, and placed my bag down on the side table again. 

“You are both wonderful men,” I shook my head for effect. “But you’re equally matched.”

They continued staring at me.

“Except for one important factor. But I have no information on that.”

“What is it?” Dean Fletcher scooted to the edge of his seat.

“I would like to see you both arm wrestle to determine who is stronger.” 

For three whole seconds, both men were frozen in place and the private suite was enveloped in silence. 

Colt was the first one to break out of the ice mold. “Is this fun for you?”

“You can choose a boxing match instead. I only want to be certain I am marrying the stronger brother.”

“Why does that matter, Miss Auclair?" Dean Fletcher was squinting at me in confusion.

“Because every woman desires a strong husband capable of protecting her.”

“This is ridiculous! Do we look weak to you?” Colt finally exploded.

I stood up and crossed the floor to him. I stopped when our faces were one inch apart.

“I am bringing my family’s wealth, our legacy that has been carefully maintained over generations to the Fletchers, a struggling giant, and you think my request is ridiculous?” I stared into his eyes, shooting flames.

“Let’s calm down.” Dean Fletcher hurriedly stood up, approaching us.

I stepped back. “I am sorry for wasting your time, gentlemen.” I turned around and grabbed my bag.

“Olivia,” Dean Fletcher hurriedly got in my way. “My brother can be quite passionate sometimes.” He said, running his hand through his hair in distress.

“That is bad for business,” I said with an expressionless face.

“I know.”

“You know?” Colt lost it again. “You think you are more business savvy than I am?”

“Bring your voice down, brother.” Dean said calmly, but the look in his eyes frightened me for a second.

“Or what?” Colt swaggered up to us.

My neck stiffened, suddenly breathless from his body heat so close.

Dean laughed darkly, “It would be stupid to waste this rage. Let’s measure dick on that table.”

“Sure.” Colt shrugged, and turned around. 

He leaned in close to me, and inhaled deeply.

My grip tightened around my purse strap.

“Just how wet are you? It smells good.” He murmured in my ear. 

I was struggling so hard now my head began to drum in a headache.

He brushed my hair back gently. “I will win, wed you, and fuck that arrogance out of you.”

I inhaled unintentionally. 

“Good girl,” he smiled coyly, and walked away.

I could barely concentrate as the brothers prepared to arm wrestle. The room had become unbearably hot as Colt took off his blazer, exposing his burly tattooed arms, hard as timber.

I painfully resisted pressing my knees together, because my legs were in full view.

I was sweating, my abdomen cramping by the time Colt grabbed his brother’s arm, and thick veins stood out on his forearm.

This was torture and definitely a bad idea. 

I was so wet now I was grateful my dress was black, but terrified the leather seat would have evidence when I stood up.

The brothers struggled for a couple of seconds.

When Colt groaned as he pushed Dean’s hand down, I nearly bit my tongue off to avoid screaming at the electricity running down my back.

He turned to me with a victorious smile as Dean looked away. 

Despite Colt winning, I was supposed to choose his brother. That had been the plan before I even met them.

But now I wondered if I should just take the risk of choosing Colt.

I shook my head. My lust was interfering with logic.

“Well done.” I smiled at Colt for the first time, standing up. “But I cannot marry you.”

“What?” Both brothers said in unison.

I took a step towards Dean and stood beside him. “You will make a great husband for me, Dean Fletcher.” I batted my lashes at him, and the man literally melted.

“What the hell do you think you are doing, Olivia?” Colt thundered.

Dean turned frosty eyes towards him now. “That’s done. You will speak to my future wife with respect.”

“What?” Colt frowned in disbelief, covering the distance between us.

This was supposed to be my first moment of victory, so why was my heart breaking at the hurt look in Colt’s eyes?

I turned and began to hurry away. But Colt grabbed my arm.

Dean pushed him off. “And you will keep a respectful distance away from her.

I turned and ran. 

The look of betrayal in Colt’s eyes was doing something to me.

“Olivia,” Dean called, running after me, but I did not stop till he grabbed my waist and spun me around.

I grabbed his face and kissed him. 

They were brothers. They had to be similar. 

Dean Fletcher would drive Colt away from my mind.

But his kiss was slow, nothing at all like Colt’s, still fresh in my memory from eleven years ago.

I deepened the kiss, my hand landing on his abs and traveling down as we kissed in the empty lobby. 

Dean bulked against me, but when I grabbed his dick it was limp.

I frowned, stroking it, my fingers moving fast. But it remained heavy and flaccid in my palm.

I flinched away from him, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“No. It’s not you, Olivia,” Dean said, hurriedly. “I find you are hot as fuck.”

I frowned at him, still too stunned to speak.

“You have agreed to be my wife. So you should know this.” He paused and ran his hand over his face, his skin turning as red as mine must look. “I have Erectile Dysfunction.”