Page 27 of My First Mistake
She crosses her arms and that cute-as-fuck indignant look she gets settles over her face. God, she’s gorgeous when she’s mad. “The snackswebought at the store are shared. Notmytrail mix.”
“I’m sorry. But I did leave you some.”
She tips the contents of the packet out into her palm and a measly couple of unidentifiable brown things fall out. “Some? You call that some? Three nuts and a raisin. What am I, a squirrel?”
I raise a brow. “I thought after all the snacks we got yesterday you wouldn’t miss your trail mix. I assumed you’d rather eat the double-chocolate-chip cookies you hid in the vegetable crisper.”
I found her little stash last night after she stumbled to bed following our bourbon-tea confessions in front of the fire. And I’m relishing the look on her face now she knows she’s rumbled. Her nostrils flare and her lips twitch. “Why don’t you eat my ass, Chase!” she snaps.
Immediately, she realizes what she just said and the sheer horror that flashes over her face has me struggling to suppress my laughter. I expect her slip was a result of her not being able to decide whether to tell me toeat my shortsorkiss my ass. I have to take a minute to compose myself before I speak. “You want me to what now?”
She clamps her lips together, her eyes darting left and right like she’s looking for the nearest exit. The wise move would be to come clean and admit that it was a slip of the tongue, but she’s Addie, so she doubles down. Arms still folded over her chest, she looks me right in the eye when she says, “You heard me. Eat. My. Ass.”
I pull out a stool, take a seat at the kitchen island and then tap the space on the counter right in front of me. “Come on over here then, baby. Sit your ass right here and I’ll be happy to oblige.”
Her eyes narrow, her lips twitch. “Don’t be ridiculous, Chase. It’s an idiom.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Kissmy ass is an idiom. Eat my ass is a request for a sexual favor, which as I’ve just stated, is a service I’m happy to provide.” I tap the countertop again.
She snorts. “Sexual favor.” And then she gives me the eye roll, the one that makes my palm twitch with the desire to spank her ass.
“You don’t think eating someone’s ass is sexual? Or is it the favor part that you object to?”
Her glare could melt steel. She won’t back down, but neither will I. I’m having far too much fun watching her squirm. We’re both stubborn enough that we might just end up seeing this twisted game of ass-eating-chicken to its end. And the image of her on this counter with her juicy ass in my face is enough to have my mouth watering.
Her eyes dart between me and the countertop, and I’m certain she’s actually considering jumping up there and taking off her pajamas and panties just to prove a point. But I would totally fulfill my end of this particular bargain. Not a doubt in my mind.
I can see her struggling, knowing if she doesn’t back down, we will end up in a very compromising position. Eventually, she lets out a cute grunt of frustration. “Jackass!” she mutters and then storms out of the kitchen like a tiny tornado, leaving me to lament the distinct lack of ass in my mouth right now.
Chapter 14
Chase
# Never underestimate a man brave enough to wear Cuban heels
It’s another day and another pair of heels. These are leopard print and they make her legs look even more incredible than usual. When I think she’s not looking, I allow my eyes to rake over her entire body, but when they travel back up to her face, she’s watching me with an amused look on hers.
“See something you like?” she asks.
I seeevery-fucking-thingthat I like. “The shoes, Addie,” is all I do say though.
“They’re gorgeous, right?” She pops one leg up.
“They’re fucking killing me,” I mumble, quiet enough that she doesn’t hear and when she asks what I said, I simply open the door and remind her we have dance rehearsals to get to.
Samuel Brown,our dance instructor, is a former Broadway star and winner of the Vermont Starlight Award for Best Choreography by a Newcomer as he has advised us all at least five times in the past hour.
The steps for this particular number—which Brax and Eva would like their parents, the groomsmen and their partners, along with Addie and me, to perform after their first dance—aren’t particularly difficult. However, both Brax and his dad appear to be getting it very wrong, at least according to the hellish screams coming from Samuel every five minutes. He’s particularly focused on Brax, who in his loud opinion, “has the rhythm of a one-legged goat herder.”I mean I didn’t know that goat herders were particularly well-known for their lack of rhythm, but I don’t keep up to date with all things dance related, so.
The dance is another idea of Eva’s mom’s. Apparently, it will make us all feelinvolvedas well as encouraging everyone else to get their asses on the dance floor. All I care about right now though, is that I’m staring into the eyes of the most beautiful woman in the world, and for the next few hours at least, I will have an entirely legitimate excuse to have my hands on her.
“Right, now we go again!” Samuel announces, clapping his hands. And a few seconds later the opening beats of “September”start playing—a song Eva’s mom chose. I slide my hand to the small of Addie’s back and take her left hand in my right one. I tug her a little closer, not close enough that she’ll feel exactly how much I enjoy dancing with her, but close enough that her breath stutters a little. Then we grin at each other as Samuel loudly shouts out the steps.
“He’s so intense,” she whispers.
“I think he might have a fit if Brax or your dad mess up the steps again.”
She snickers.
