Page 63 of Exes and Oh Hell No

Ford leads me into the living room.

He sits on the couch, pulling me onto his lap again, as though I weigh nothing.

“Connor. Hand me my bag beside the couch.”

Connor hands it to him with a smirk when he meets my eyes.

“Let’s check out some rings, wifey.” Ford unzips the backpack, pulling out a laptop.

“Ford, I swear to God?—”

“You shouldn’t do that. Gram will give you hell.” Connor plops down beside us, smirking.

I stick my tongue out at him, causing Ford to snicker.

“This whole thing is… just insanity.”

I glare at Ford.

His hand digs into my hip. “Don’t make me take you upstairs and fuck the attitude out of you,” he warns, nuzzling my neck.

I hate the way every nerve ending comes alive inside my body from the simplest touch from him.

The way my breath inadvertently hitches before my lips part, and my breaths rasp out.

There’s no doubt that Ford Brooks affects me like no one else ever has.

And I hate that the smirk on his face tells me he damn well knows it.

“Stop,” I whimper, trying to pull away from him.

He’s too fucking close.

“I better get some popcorn for the show,” Connor says, a wide grin lighting up his face as he hops up and races to the kitchen.

I swallow hard, alone with Ford since Gram is in the shower.

“Listen, we?—”

His warm lips cover mine.

He tosses the laptop on the couch beside him, then wraps me in his arms, pulling me closer.

This feels far too familiar.

It’s like I’m seventeen again, and we’re having one of our infamous marathon make-out sessions the second we’re alone.

We’re nearly thirty, yet the passion and feelings burn between us like an inferno.

Wait.

What am I thinking?

My hands plant against his chest, trying to push away. “Ford.”

“Stop doubting. Just feel.”

His lips claim mine again.

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