AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He paused to drink, then said, “I guess I should be. But it just wasn’t…”
As he trailed off, she knew she’d won her argument.
“You didn’t love her, did you?”
She ignored the way her heart gave a little leap at the irritated look on his face. The fact that he didn’t love Cynthia shouldn’t have warmed her so much. But it did—and all the way to her toes. She figured getting up and doing a booty dance was bad form.
“So, you’re single, and—a fact I have pointed out quite a bit—you’re older than I am.”
“But it doesn’t matter as much for me as it does for you.”
She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. Knowing what he would say, she led him into the corner. “And why does it mean more if I’m not married than it does for you?”
“Well”—he smiled at her—“you’re a woman.”
“Maxwell Thurston Chandler, your mother would smack you silly for that comment.”
He grunted and lifted his chin slightly, giving the appearance of a very dignified drunk. “If you bring my mother into this, I refuse to argue with you.” He drained his glass. “Do you have any more margaritas?”
Anna smiled and reached across the table to pat his hand. “Sure thing, Max. A man who knows how to admit defeat is a man who deserves a drink.”
Snorting, he handed her his glass. “I’m a man who knows if I said any more, you would tell my mother, and I’m also a man who knows better than to upset his mama.”
* * *
Two hours later, they’d moved from margaritas to straight tequila shots. One moment, they were enjoying sweet margaritas, and the next, they were downing shots.
Max wasn’t sure how it happened, but Anna had taken control of the evening. She had a habit of grabbing hold of a situation by the ears and pulling it in her direction. It was something they had in common and probably why they made such good friends. The evening had been just what he needed. And, as usual, Anna had known. She seemed to sense what he needed before he knew he needed it. His stomach was full of her enchiladas and Spanish rice, and his head spun from tequila and Anna.
“You know, I think I know what my problem is with men.”
Max turned his head, which rested on the back of the sofa, and looked at her. She was sitting closer than he thought, so he drew back so he could focus on her upturned face. They had both propped their feet on the coffee table, his enormous size twelves next to her tiny size fives.
“How small are you?” he asked.
Anna giggled. The joyous sound made him smile as his gaze moved up her body to rest on her face. Damn, but she was gorgeous. She was everything he wasn’t. Open, demonstrative, always smiling. As Anna had said many times before, Max concentrated too much on succeeding—on finishing first. Where Max always had a plan, Anna rarely did and enjoyed herself three times as much as he did.
“Max, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
Her eyes sparkled with humor. She had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. No hint of another color, just green. Like the lawn behind his home in springtime. No matter how flamboyant or seductive her personality was, there was always a hint of intelligence in her eyes. Anna licked her lower lip. He followed the movement, entranced by the sight of her tongue flitting out over her fuller bottom lip. His dick hardened as he thought of her using that mouth and tongue on him. His balls twitched as he imagined the feel of her lips moving over his flesh, the heat of her mouth against his cock.
“What I was talking about is my problem with men.”
“You don’t have problems with men.” In Max’s opinion, men came too easily for her. For a girl who’d barely dated in high school, she’d made up for lost time. “You date too much.”
Anna collapsed against the arm of the sofa in a fit of laughter. “What you mean is I fuck too many guys. I don’t sleep with all of them, Max. But, on the other hand, I’m not embarrassed by my sexuality.”
“Of course not. You brag about it.”
She nudged him with her foot. “I do not. I just don’t hide it. And the truth is, there’s a double standard. No one in this freaking town thinks anything of a man having a sex life, but they still hold the antiquated idea that women are supposed to be virgins or hate sex. It’s the twenty-first century.”
He really wished she would quit talking about sex. Talking about sex was the next thing to having it. Sitting so close, he could feel the heat of her body. It was wreaking havoc with his thought process. She kept talking about sex, and each time she said the word, it reminded him he couldn’t touch. Which just sucked, and—to quote Anna—not in a good way.
She poured herself another shot. Lick, drink, suck. Max shifted, trying to ease the ache in his balls. She purred her enjoyment of the drink, almost making him come in his pants.
Anna leaned back against the multitude of pillows piled on her red sofa. Her dark curls spilled over the vibrant colors. She made the perfect picture of a hedonist. His heart smacked against his chest at the sight of her crooked smile.
“No, I think I figured out that I measure every man against you.”
