“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Sure you can, that’s why big tit Barbie keeps following you around like a sick little puppy.”
“More like a deranged bitch,” I mumble. “I have it under control. Either of you riding with me over to Axel’s?”
“Just me and Coop.”
I look over at Locke and catch his small nod confirming Beck’s words.
“Got it. Going to take out the trash, then be ready to ride.”
I have to remind myself a few times to control my temper. Control. I have to completely lock down every urge I have to get in her face and flip the fuck out. I don’t do clingy women. Hell, I haven’t done the same woman in years. When I met her, she was a means to an end, a way to keep my dick from falling off. I have told her from day one that there would never be more than the two of us spending time naked. No dating, no meeting friends, and no fucking acting like I am a piece of property.
There is no way Mandy is sane, standing there ready to take me on. No fucking way. She has the nerve to show up here at my family’s wedding, uninvited, and throw her shit. Shit that she has no right throwing. It is past time to cut her the fuck loose.
“Amanda.”
She tenses slightly at the hard tone I give her name. Literally, I’m spitting her name out with nothing but disgust dripping from my tone. I take her by the elbow and lead her off to the side hallway, away from listening ears.
“Would you like to tell me why in the fuck you are here?”
“Because baby, I knew you would want me to share this day with you.” I have to give the bitch credit; she honestly believes this bullshit. If I didn’t know better, I would think she really did want to be here. But I do know better, and I know there is nothing but calculating crazy-as-fuck scheming underneath the fake.
What. The. Fuck.
“Are you stupid? Please tell me you’re just slow, and missed the fucking memo titled ‘you are nothing but a warm body’? ” She flinches slightly but not enough. Apparently, it’s going to take a lot more than the normal brush off. This is going nowhere, shit.
“Don’t be silly, Greg.” She laughs slightly and reaches out to place her hand on mine, but I step back and watch her arm fall lamely back down.
“Listen to me, and listen to me real good, Amanda. I will not repeat this shit again. You and me, we are done. Completely and never going to fucking happen again done. The last time you will ever get my dick was last night. Whatever the hell you think is going on here, is not. I won’t be your man, and I damn sure will never climb back into your body. Hear me… This. Is Over.”
I don’t even give her a chance to respond. Turning around, I rejoin my boys before heading out of the church and off to the reception.
My mood isn’t any better three hours later. We did the traditional bullshit that always comes with weddings: more pictures than I care to ever be a part of again, dancing, cake cutting and dinner. Now the party is going hard, and the alcohol is flowing freely.
My eyes haven’t left the object of my desire since arriving. She doesn’t disappoint either. It seems like she is putting on a show just for me; the only fucking problem is her using all the single men here to do so. Her favorite seems to be the one and only manwhore himself, Zeke Cooper.
I have no idea what the hell they are dancing to now; I just know he is way too fucking close. When I watch his hand slip around her waist and pull her closer, I almost break my glass. When she throws her head back and laughs, her whole face lighting up with the humor, I go over all the ways I know how to kill a man. When his palm moves to her ass and squeezes, I see red. My whole body is draws tight and the desire swirling with the rage is a hard combination to filter through.
This kind of body consuming desire is new to me. Sure, there have been plenty of women in my thirty-five years, but none that makes me feel this way. And there damn sure hasn’t been one that has been able to walk away from me. Coop might annoy the shit out of me on a good day, but I have never considered ways to murder my friend before.
“You got it bad.”
“You have no idea.” I look over at Locke, noticing his eyes aren’t watching Coop and his partner, but are looking across the room at the table Emmy is sitting at while rocking a sleeping Nate.
“Gonna do anything about it?” He finally asks, after a few minutes of silence.
“Yeah. Are you?” Clearly not expecting my question in return, he slowly turns his head and looks over at me. His dark eyes give nothing away.
“No.” And with that, he walks away, rejoining his date. At least I’m not the only miserable bastard in the room.
After a few more songs, Coop takes his soon-to-be-ripped-from-his-arms hands off of her body. She looks around the room before walking over to the bar, the bar that I haven’t left in almost an hour. Her eyes never leave mine. Her hips moving seductively to the music make my mouth water, and my pants tighten.