"Since when did you start thinkin' of your girlfriend's sister as sexy?" I demanded, a little more harshly than I oughta have, making Jimmie Joe's thick brow lift even further. "Hell, Jimmie Joe, Randi Lynn is 'bout as high maintenance as they come. And while all that fussin' looks damn good on her, I prefer a female I ain't gotta worry 'bout messin' up."
I dunno, Skeeter," he said, taking a drink of his beer. "Somethin' tells me she wouldn't mind a little messin' up with the right man."
The right sorta man for her is off in some big city, with his slicked back hair and fancy clothes." When he opened his mouth to argue, I cut him off. "It ain't happenin', so let it the hell go."
I finished off my beer and headed for the door.
"Where you goin'?" Duffster hollered after me.
"To get a little dirty," I replied with a frown and then walked out, slamming the door behind me.
I felt like a bear with a thorn in my ass and Randi Lynn was the gawddamned thorn. I climbed into my truck and drove to my momma's. For months I'd been able to avoid Randi Lynn and them long, make-a-man-wanna-have-them-wrapped-around-his-hips legs. I could still see that sweet, tight ass swaying to and fro on the dance floor at Big Matt's wedding reception. I'd wanted to do more than kiss her that night.
Lusting after a virgin. Shit. That's like drinking from a bottle labeled with a neon green Mr. Yuk sticker. Damn dangerous. That's why I'd gotten rip roaring drunk that night. Whatever it took to tame the beast growling away beneath the fly of my tuxedo pants.
But seeing Randi Lynn again today, being so close to her, had that beast stirring again. Wanting to kiss her again.