Page 30 of Shoot Your Shot

“And you’ve turned into a bitch,” flies from my mouth, and I’m instantly mad at myself for taking it there, but right now, I’m holding my ground.

If she wants to play the game this way, I can follow her lead.

When I glance back at her, her face is bright red. I knew that word was going to piss her off. I don’t think I’ve ever called her a bitch before, but right now, she’s pushing my buttons.

I stand on one side of the island and look up at her as she glares at me.

“Take that back, you selfish son of a bitch. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re here for your own conscience, babe. Don’t even try to hide that.” I take a few steps so that I’m cowering over her petite body.

“Fuck you,” she hisses. “That’s not even—”

Smirking down, I press a finger against her plump lips. Even touching her pouty mouth has the blood pumping straight to my dick.

“You could fuck me, Buttercup. It might feel good.” I raise my other hand, bringing it to her hip and gripping it slightly. “You’re so worked up and angry. What if you hate-fucked my cock so hard that all that anger spilled onto my dick and you screamed out my name while you drenched me?”

Her eyes glaze over, but she blinks a few times, forcing herself out of it. “Stop,” she breathes out, raising her chin slightly.

“Stop what, Buttercup?” I murmur. “We both know you might hate me, but I’d have you coming in a matter of minutes. Why fight it? It’s clear I have control over your body.”

She’s so turned on that I’m tempted to reach between her legs and feel how soaked she is. But even as fucking wet as she might be, she’s pissed. Her eyes are narrowed to slits now, and I can practically see the smoke pouring from her ears. Before, I’d probably fix this by fucking her into next week. That always seemed to work to take the edge off her fury. She’d claw at myback, pretending she was mad when I fed her pussy my cock, filling her so full that she’d fight back a cry. But that was when our arguments were about small, stupid, insignificant shit. Now? Shit is a whole lot more complicated. It’s not like a tiny cut; I can’t slap a Band-Aid on it and make it go away. Just like I can’t drive my cock inside of her pussy and fix this. Not this time.

But, fuck, it sure would feel good.

I watch her drag in a few long breaths and let them out. Her pupils are huge, and her throat works to swallow. Suddenly, she backs away from my touch and gradually grazes my side with her hand, sending my cock shooting straight up.

It only takes me a second to realize she’s getting my medication. Pulling back slowly, she drags her hand back across my side and near my abdomen with the pills in her hand. She looks down at my growing erection before holding her hand out and showing me the pills.

“It seems as though I also still have control over your body, Kolt.” She licks her lips. “Don’t fuck with me, okay? I’m not in the mood.”

Putting the pills into my hand, she reaches into the refrigerator and slides me a bottle of water. “Take your pills before you give yourself another heart attack,” she says, unimpressed, before she heads toward the guest bedroom and closes the door behind her.

Leaving me with an extremely hard dick and a handful of pills.

“He just had a heart attack,” I say into the phone. “I can’t be here because everything he does pisses me off. And he doesn’t need his bitchy, should-be ex-wife here, making it all worse.”

“I agree that you don’t need to be bitchy to a man who just had a heart attack, pea,” my dad says back. “But I also know you’re hurting and you’re pissed. So, I get it. But have you asked Kolt what he wants?”

“What do you mean?” I frown. “I still want a divorce. It’s clear he hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t mean regarding your marriage—though you two gotta figure your shit out. Your situation is fucked up, to put it nicely,” my dad says matter-of-factly. “I’m talking about … does he want you there? Because right now, everything else aside, it’s about him getting better. His recovery has no room for the pair of you’s bullshit.”

“Gee, thanks,” I grumble. “Not really. I probably should ask him. His mom ended up having to go to the hospital because, after influenza, she got pneumonia. But she’s home now. And I’m sure she is dying to get up here and make sure her son’s okay.”

“But she triggers him, pea. And he doesn’t need that either.” He pauses. “Why don’t you get in touch with the coach? I’m sure he could hire a nurse of some sort to come in and check on him.”

The image of a sexy nurse, wearing a slutty nurse costume with her boobs hanging out, assaults my brain, and I scrunch my nose up. “Um, yeah, I don’t know about that, Dad.”

“You can’tnotwant him, but also not want any other woman around him, babe. It doesn’t work that way.” He lectures me.

“It’s not even like that, Dad,” I groan. “I want him more than I want anything or anyone. But we don’t work together. You weren’t here for those months when he completely shut me out. I had never felt so alone in my life, and I’m not going back to that.”

“Well, in my defense, you never told Mom or me what was going on. So, how were we supposed to know?” he throws back. “And while that’s not right, marriage has its ups and downs, sweetie. That’s how it goes.”

“I know that, Dad. And I would have been fine with the hard times if I knew there was a light at the end of them. And if I knew … he still wanted me,” I say defensively. “I just thought … eventually, he’d come out of the darkness. I tried. Dad, I tried so hard. But”—my voice breaks, and my throat swells—“it became unbearable, living here with him when it was obvious he didn’t want the marriage anymore. So, please don’t talk to me like I gave up because he had a bad few days. It wasn’t like that. At all.”

“I’m sorry if it came out that way. That isn’t what I think. I know you have loved that boy something wicked since you were kids, but I also believe that after the way things were left, the two of you owe each other a conversation,” he says, keeping his tone gentle. “When is he going to the doctor again?”

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