A Mess of Reason Read Free Page A

bossing me around—in the bedroom, that is. Ah well, while
it’s not the lottery win I want, it all adds up to some sort of pot
of gold at the end of the rainbow, now doesn’t it?
    “Get your tushie over here and sit next to
me!” I tell him. “You’ve been behind the bar for the last hour. I
moved here to be close to you…now let me get my hands on my
merchandise before I call the store manager!” I love that I can
bark at him all Princess Leia like that. I promise you, no one gets
away with the stuff I do around Scout. It’s a feel-good thing for
me, I won’t lie. Not even his Little Bo Peep priss of a girlfriend
gets away with it. Speaking of…how she even makes him hard is
beyond me. Maybe they aren’t even screwing. Good question.
    “Are you fucking her?”
    He answers me with a criminally dark laugh.
His laugh, by the way, is bottle-able, lethal,
should-be-banned-like-absinthe good. Deep, rich, sexy. And yes, it
makes me rainforest wet. Sister, does it.
    “Am I fucking whom, my love?” He has my hand
in his and he’s kissing the back of it like he does sometimes when
we talk. It makes me ache with a sweet, fiery, groin-grabbing
throb.
    “That thing with bows. Miss
Elevator-Goes-to-the-Top-but-the-Doors-Don’t-Open. Are you getting
your toothless blow job on with her downstate condo? Or is her
south mouth all braided up in ribbons? I’m gonna lay a twenty on
the fact that she keeps her Beanie Babies collection stored up in
that attic. Do those get in the way of your big lead monster,
Scout?”
    “Woman, you are on overdrive today. I think
your New York years added even more angel of darkness to your
sugared sarcasm. Do you really want to know?” The mystery in his
eyes, smoldering with fire, makes me want to bite the meat of my
thumb.
    “Yeah. We’re drinking. It’s just
conversation. Drinking equals smack talk. Get those lips shakin’.
Move some ground, brutha!” Can you tell I despise her? Don’t judge;
I’ve staked my claim.
    “You’re insufferable. Yes, I am fucking
her.” He almost sounds sad the way he says it. Numb. As though he’s
resigned himself to her. Not the words I want to hear.
    “Oh my! She has an opening down there? I
know you aced health class…or would that be geography?”
    “Pretty sure, baby. The female anatomy is
something I specialize in.”
    His words strip me bare. I might need a
spanking or a clitoral amputation. I spin on my barstool, looking
back at him. I’m over the edge. I wish I weren’t. But I am. I can’t
help myself. Shamelessly eye-fucking him. The very act of it
wrapped in a prayer. I feel it coming straight back at me as he
allows himself a deep chuckle that rides his penetrating gaze. He’s
a master at it, all right. With every blink, the intensity of his
eyes become a shade deeper. And those would be my fingers right
between my legs.
    “Details, Scout? Give it to me. Hard and
fast.”
    “You want it hard and fast…is that right,
baby?”
    Please, please, please…
    His laugh is masculine, charging at my most
intimate parts almost against my will, sending me into survivor
mode.
    “May I help myself?” I ask as I hold my
empty glass up.
    “The fact that you’re asking if you can help
yourself is disturbing. You can help yourself to my anything. Must
I place my hands on your ass and hoist you up there myself?”
    God yes…
    “Please, just one little push, Romeo.” I
shake my apple-bottom at him. He rewards me with another deep gaze.
I wonder if those make him as hard as they make me wet? Dare I
ask?
    “What’s her pet name for you?” I want to
suffocate her with post-game football player socks while she’s
strapped to a bed of nails.
    “I’m not telling.” Not a good sign. He tells
me everything…could he actually like her?
    “Did you ask me to move here so I could help
you relocate your lower anatomy? What’s happening to you? You’re
getting soft on me. Where is my Scout? Please don’t tell me she’s
also convinced you