The Ex Factor - Erin McCarthy Page 0,25
right now as a trap door in a row boat.
“Let me get my keys.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she wanted to go with him, but he was clearly trying to escape his comment. Besides, she would welcome an hour without him and the sexual tension he created. “Can you get me some ice cream?”
If he mentioned anything about her not needing ice cream all bets were off. She would definitely strangle him with the hairdryer cord. It would be worth the life in prison sentence.
But he just said, “What kind?”
That was mollifying. “Rocky road.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “For real? Is that a metaphor for our relationship?”
She hadn’t even thought about it, but now that he mentioned it, there was something ironic and humorous about her request. “Our second single?” she asked wryly.
“Could be.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but then he just shook his head. “Keys, please?” He held his hand out. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
A thought occurred to her. “You’re not ditching me here, are you?” Oh, my Lord, she’d skin him alive if he left her alone in the woods without transportation. Not that it would be hard to get someone to fetch her, she didn’t like the feeling of being trapped. Out of control.
Chance stared at her. “You think I’m going to steal your truck and ditch you like some total asshole? If I wanted to leave that bad, I wouldn’t have come in the first place.”
“Sorry, I panicked. No, I don’t think you would actually do that.” If he had his own vehicle, who knows. She raised her eyebrows up and down with a smirk. “And you didn’t come at all, though I was willing to let you.”
He took a step closer to her. “Yeah, I think I need to do something about that sooner rather than later.”
“Lotion's in the bathroom.”
“Funny. But don’t quit your day job to be a comedienne.”
“Hey, I offered. I only offer once.” She wanted to stay annoyed with him, but at this point it was all false anger she was clinging to. The way he was looking at her, his eyes smoldering, she knew she was in danger of rolling over. Literally. Let him take her from behind… Dang, she was behind on orgasms if she was getting riled up this easily. It was like she had a backlog of sexual frustration.
Though she knew even that wasn’t true. The reality was Chance lit her fire. Nothing had changed and she had a whole lot of memories of delicious nights together.
“Maybe I should just go to the store with you,” she said, so she wouldn’t have to sit around and contemplate how great their sex life had been.
He snorted. “We’ve already been spotted. Let’s not make it worse.”
“Fine. Never mind. Go to the store alone.” She turned and went for her purse to fish out her keys. “Can you get me some wine, too? A nice Malbec.”
“I remember what you drink,” he said, and the timbre of his voice made her insides melt.
Jolene slapped the keys into his outstretched hand and tried to take a step back.
Chance grabbed her hand so unexpectedly she sucked in a breath and froze. He looked… fierce.
“We’re not finished, Jolene. Just a fair warning.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asked, despising how breathless and excited her voice sounded. She wanted to melt without hesitation. She wanted to roll around on the bed with him for an hour or two, laze around the pond, and laugh with him. The way they used to. Her body ached and yearned and hell, so did her heart. But she clung to fake outrage, because it was all she had to prevent herself from getting hurt again.
“Of course not.” His thumb stroked the inside of her palm. “I’m making you a promise.”
“Save your breath for songwriting,” she told him, striving for breezy and nonchalant. “It’s the only thing we’re good at.” With that, she retreated to the bathroom because she was done with him and the conversation and her own stupid traitorous body.
They shut their doors simultaneously. It might have been the first time in months they were in sync.
Chance was putting altogether too much liquor into his buggy at the store. Did he really think he was going to drink two bottles of Jack in two weeks? He frowned. When he put it that way, maybe he really needed four. He put two more into the