Free Tamed by Emma Chase Page A

drops from my injured mouth to my side. And my mind is blank—not a single smooth line or witty comeback in sight. So all I can do is ask, “Why don’t you like me?”
    “What?”
    “We had a great time—the sex was hot, we laughed—but now you don’t want anything to do with me.”
    “This is a new concept for you?”
    I snort. “Shit, yeah, it’s new. Everybody likes me. I’m a great fucking guy.”
    Dee massages her forehead with her fingertips the way my mother used to do when she had a headache brewing. Then she sighs and admits, “Okay . . . the thing is . . . it’s not you, it’s me. I’m the problem.”
    My eyes crinkle with revulsion. “Jesus Christ, are you serious? I’m practically pouring my heart out here, and you can’t even be bothered to make up a decent lie?”
    Dee throws out her arms, “I’m telling you the truth. I do like you. You’re very cute, you’re very funny, and you’re fantastic in bed. But I . . . I’m a more content person when I’m not in a relationship. When I get serious with someone . . . I go a little crazy.”
    “Who’s said anything about a relationship? Let’s just . . . keep having a good time. See what happens. It’s not like we’re going to take off for Vegas and get married.”
    That would just be ridiculous.
    Dee shakes her head. “You don’t understand. It never ends well. This won’t be any different, Matthew. I used to think it was the men I picked, but I’ve finally accepted the fact that it’s me. I make good guys go bad. I’m like . . . a penis pump . . . I turn men into gigantic pricks. I’m the girl your mother warned you about—bad news.”
    And her expression is so serious, I can’t not laugh. “No, you’re not.”
    “You don’t know me.”
    “What I know so far is pretty awesome.”
    She starts to deny what I’ve said, but I push on. “You’re overthinkingthis. We can be fuck buddies if it makes you feel better. New friends with fabulous benefits. I’ll be the scratch for your itch . . . the booty to your two a.m. call. Just . . . don’t screw any other guys—you won’t need to.”
    She begins to shake her head. Until I remind her. “And the world could end tomorrow, remember? The aliens could invade . . . global warming . . . we’ve got to live for the now, ’cause you never know when the now will be gone.”
    I hold out my hand. “Take a chance, Dee. I won’t let you down.”
    Her honey-colored eyes look wistfully at my hand. “God, you’re good.”
    I smirk. And it just comes out. “That’s what she said.”
    Dee cracks up.
    Then she takes my hand in hers. They’re a perfect fit.
    Like two middle schoolers experiencing their first crushes, we stand like that for a few moments, smiling at each other. Wordlessly, we turn and walk toward her apartment.
    Much too seriously, Dee says, “Hey, Matthew?”
    I raise my eyebrows.
    “When you’ve had enough? Just remember I tried to warn you, okay?”
    I don’t know what kind of fucked-up, douche bags Dee has been going out with, but that kind of talk ticks me off. I’m determined to prove her wrong and lighten the mood. So I lean toward her and whisper, “You’re too beautiful to ever get enough of.”
    Delores rolls her eyes. And I get the distinct impression she thinks I’m bullshitting her. Guess I’ll just have to keep calling her beautiful until she believes it.

Chapter 8
    W aking up in a place that’s not yours is always slightly disorienting. My eyes open to sunlight streaming through sheer purple curtains and to a clothes-cluttered bedroom. Last night, Dee and I talked some more after going inside her apartment. Turns out, she didn’t have sex with the homeboy. She said he spent the majority of their time at her apartment on the phone with a friend. Idiot . She asked me if it would’ve bothered me if she had—my answer was yes. But . . . I would’ve gotten over it.
    I slip on a pair of boxers, then I follow the smell of bacon and the sound of