My Best Friend's Ex(16)

"Yeah? Is it buy furniture so we don't have to sit on counters?"

Chuckling, he shakes his head. "Didn't you see the last issue of uh . . ." He scratches the back of his neck and looks up at me through his eyelashes, boyish charm written all over his face. "Shit, I don't know any decorating magazines, there goes my joke."

"Oh, does Playboy not offer interior decorating ideas? Is it really just about the articles?"

He nods and points his bottle at me right before he brings it to his lips. "That and the tits, Emma. You can't forget the tits."

I roll my eyes. "I wouldn't know. I've never looked at one."

"Seriously?"

I nod. "Seriously. Why would I? I don't want to diddle myself to bare-breasted women."

The strain in his neck is evident as he swallows hard from my comment. He clears his throat and asks, "Do you diddle yourself?"

"Do you think that's an appropriate question to ask your friend?"

He studies me, his intense once-over drawing a line from my toes to my eyes, causing a shiver to run up my spine. "Fuck yeah, it's an appropriate question." 

"Fine, do you self-mutilate?"

"Yes," he says without skipping a beat. "Come on, that was a toss-up question. Every guy does and if he tells you otherwise, he's a liar who probably does it twice a day."

"Twice a day? Doesn't that hurt after a while?"

Tucker laughs and hops off the counter to grab another slice of pizza. When he stands next to me, I catch a second whiff of his cologne . . . what is that heavenly smell? A little sweet, a little woodsy, with a huge dose of pheromones . . .

"Babe, if you're using any kind of lubricant, you can rub one out as many times as you want."

Babe? God, that's cute coming from him.

"Yeah? What's your record for one day of masturbation?"

Did. I. Just. Ask. Tucker. Jameson. How. Many. Times. A. Day. He. Masturbates?

Emma!

"Like how many times?" He bites his slice but doesn't retreat back to his counter; noooo, he stands next to me, his broad frame making me feel tiny.

Answering his question, I nod.

"Hmm, all-time record?" He calculates in his head, a smirk on his face. "I would have to say about thirty."

"Thirty?" I nearly choke on my drink as I spit out the number. "How on earth could you get hard thirty times in one day?"

He's laughing now. His hand is wrapped around his waist as he bends over. That gives me a great view of his back muscles flexing with every bout of laughter. The sound is deep, earthquake-esque, shaking my entire body to its core.

"You're stupid." Mature, I know. I hop off the counter and carry my drink and another slice of pizza toward my bedroom. I don't make it past the kitchen doorway before Tucker is wrapping his strong arm around my waist, halting me in my progress. I freeze from his hold, and goosebumps spread like a curtain of arousal as his low laugh filters through my ear. His heat surrounds me, capturing me.

"Don't be like that. Remember, loosen up."

I turn on him, our bodies only a few inches a part, and I hold back the catch in my breath, not wanting to show him how much he's affecting me right now. I'm tired, that's what this is all about. I'm just tired. And it's been QUITE a long time since I've had sex.

"Fine, you want me to loosen up?"

He nods, putting some more distance between us to grab his drink that he clearly is only drinking to quench his thirst, not because he's loving the appley taste. "I do, that's why I'm setting the rule that once a week, you have to put down the books and do something fun."

"Oh, is that how this is going to work?" I tease. "Your house, your rules?"

"Damn right." He smirks over his drink.

"Do I have any say in the matter?"

He shakes his head and then a slow, drawn-out smile starts to spread across his face. Uh oh, something is brewing in that handsome head of his and I'm not actually convinced I'll handle whatever he's coming up with.

Shit.





Chapter Six


TUCKER

"Grab a pen and a pad of paper," I say to Emma as I bring the pizza box into the dining room along with our six-pack of gross cider.

"Should I be nervous? You're not going to make up some kind of weird blood pact where we have to eat the eye of a squid and share a tentacle Lady and the Tramp style, are you?"

"What?" I laugh and shake my head. "No, just get the pen and paper. Christ, woman."

She disappears into her room where she shuffles around all her belongings and fumbles over boxes. I consider going in to help her but once the thought passes through my mind, she's already coming back into the dining room.