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Then there was her hair, which was pulled up tonight and styled, putting her neck on display. And I don’t know what it was about me and necks, but exposed feminine throats always make me want to justbitethem. Mmm.
And my mouth was starting to literally water, for just a taste of that lovely, tender—
God, it’d been way too long since I’d last had sex. Even Chloe Ryan’s neck was starting to look good to me.
As were her lips.
I truly hated it when she put on bright lipstick like that; it made her mouth appear more kissable than it should. And it made me think of blowjobs.
Scowling into her brown eyes, I sniffed as I slapped down a napkin and then set her drink in front of her. “Hot date tonight?”
My gut burned as I asked.Notbecause I was jealous of the thought of that mouth going down on someone else but because her presence simply gave me indigestion. Yeah, that was why.
Glancing up, she said nothing, just glared into my eyes as she reached for the amaretto sour, pulled it toward her, and finally lifted it to her mouth, still looking hatefully at me as she wrapped her bright red lips around the straw and…sucked.
And fuck me, but I grew instant wood. Which pissed me the hell off.
“So you’re gettingthatdesperate, huh?” I snickered to hide the dreaded reaction my stupid body was having.
When Chloe merely shifted her face to the side as she set her drink back down, letting me know she didn’t catch on to my meaning, I added, “You were in such a hurry to get ready for him, you only put on one earring.”
Immediately, she lifted her hands to her ears and gasped when she slipped her fingers over the lobes, discovering that I wasn’t lying.
As she rushed to remove the single earring that remained, I outright laughed in her face. “You know, you might as well just put a sign on your back that reads,I’m the last of my friends who’s still single. Please don’t let me die an old maid.You’d be less obvious.”
Her eyes narrowed and her expression frosted. But she sounded almost pleasant when she smiled at me and tucked the single earring away in the front pocket of her skirt before lifting the glass again. “Does it bother you that you peaked in high school and haven’t emotionally matured since?”
“Probably not as much as it bothers you that you can only attract absolute dirtballs.” And I smiled back, confident that my barb had gotten to her when she skipped the straw this time and drank deeply until she emptied the glass.
“Ooh…” She slapped the empty cup down and shivered before crossing her arms over her chest and sending me a dry scowl, her cleavage bubbling up higher and practically screaminglook at me! “Great burn. I’d clap for you, but my hands are too comfortable where they are.”
I really didn’t blame them; my hands would be comfortable there too.
But I shrugged as if I didn’t care and smirked back. “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I don’t need your applause.” Then I leaned toward her and whispered, “I got plenty last night.”
Alright, fine. So that one was an outright lie. No one had applauded or clapped for me foranythinglast night, certainly not for some outstanding sexual performance, as I was implying. ButChloedidn’t need to know that.
Straightening again, I folded my arms over my chest as well and smugly leered back when the move caused her attention to drop to the tight shirt I wore, revealing the bulges inmyarms and pecs.
Yeah, two could play this game, sister.
Until she sniffed in disinterest and volleyed back, “Clapping for yourself because of your own hand…doesn’t count.”
Damn, but she had a vicious jab. That one was a direct hit. I had indeed been using my hand way too much lately. Stupid family gossip had probably gotten back to her that I’d been in a slump with the ladies.
Narrowing my eyes, I tipped up my chin. “Tell me. Does the date know you’re not a true cowgirl, at least? You’re not hoodwinking the poor sucker into thinking you’re authentically country, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, but my dating life is none of your business.”
“And thank God for that,” I shot back happily. “Otherwise, I’d never get any sleep from all the worrying. I mean…” Spinning my finger in a circle, I asked, “It’s justonepsycho ex that you currently have a restraining order against, right? Or are there more now?”
With a scowl, she snapped, “Don’t be an ass. That’s not funny.”
But I laughed, anyway. “You definitely know how to pick ’em, don’t you? Jesus, I can only imagine what’s wrong with tonight’s douche.”
I’d yet to meet a single man she’d dated that I could actually stomach. Every single one of them had irritated me for one reason or another.
Andnotbecause I was jealous of them. She just had really bad taste in men.
