Lust and Other Drugs Read Online Free PDF Page A

thought you knew me better than that.”
Oh, they were skirting dangerous territory now—and it thrilled her.
    “When was the last time you fucked someone as opposed to
made love?” Chase questioned, his expression serious.
    She wanted to lie. To tell him she’d been with as many men
as he’d been with women, but her numbers were nowhere near his. Then there was
the fact the last guy she’d had sex with, she’d loved. Head-over-ass,
stupid-for-him type of love. “Never.”
    “You haven’t been with anyone since Jim the Jackass?” He was
incredulous.
    “Nope. I’ve gotten very close with Bunny,” she confessed.
    “Who the hell is Bunny?” he demanded.
    “My Rabbit. The plastic kind with batteries, not the furry
kind.”
    His cheeks billowed out again but he swallowed more quickly
this time and spluttered.
    “Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer,” she said sweetly.
Anne liked having him off balance. He was always supremely confident in
everything he did, every goal he set for himself. Knocking him for a loop was a
difficult task.
    “Anne, did he hurt you that badly?”
    Damn. There went her advantage. “I’m okay.”
    But she wasn’t. Jim had broken her heart and left her
disillusioned. Was that why she’d suddenly turned to Chase? He’d always been
her safe haven and now, was she expecting him to fix that part of her life too?
He seemed to be able to fix everything else. It wasn’t fair to push her needs
onto him. Not until she was sure she could meet his as well if he did feel something for her other than friendship.
    He studied her intently. “You know, I never liked him
anyway.”
    Good old Chase, always there with the standard best friend
script. And he meant every word. He never liked any of her boyfriends. From the
first time in fourth grade when Billy Ludkins made her cry all the way until
Jim the Jackass. He never thought any of them were good enough.
    “You never like any of them.” Anne smiled.
    “Because you have shitty taste in men, sweets. Except for
me, of course. Now come dance with me.”
    “Oh no, I—” She started to demure, but he’d already pulled
her from the chair, his hands already on her waist.
    His familiar scent washed over her and the security of his
strong arms quickly squelched any protest she could muster.
    “It will be harder for them now,” he promised.
    “Why is that?”
    “You’re living with me and I’ll take care of you.”
    “Are you going to wait up on the porch with your shotgun?”
she murmured into his shoulder.
    “If I have to.”
    “Would it be okay if I did the same to you?” she tossed
back, her lips bare inches from the pulse in his neck.
    “Sure. Any girl you don’t like is gone,” he said with
conviction.
    “I didn’t like Randi.” Anne knew full well her name was
Randa but mispronounced it on purpose, and he didn’t correct her.
    “I know. And she’s gone.”
    “ She broke up with you .” Anne laughed into the
curve of his shoulder. It was an effort not to rub her cheek against the soft
material of his t-shirt and let her hands wander the broad planes of his back.
    “I was getting to it.” His hand traced up her spine in a
casual caress.
    Anne realized she wasn’t dancing with him as she would a
friend, but clinging to him as she would a lover—their dance a preview to how
their bodies would work together, all sweat-slicked and needing. Her hands had
splayed over his muscled back and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She
couldn’t catch her breath and the casual touch of his hand on her back caused
her to imagine all the other places he could be touching her. She was wet for
him again, and all the bliss that brief touch promised.
    His breath was warm on her cheek and she wondered what would
happen if she tilted her face up to look at him. Would he thread his strong
fingers through her hair and kiss her? If he did, would it be gentle and sweet
or hard and demanding? Would it be all she’d imagined, or would it