Ha, that’s just what I needed to be known as, exploding penis man. Awesome.
She stole my coffee and took a big gulp—she’d finished hers an hour ago. “I think the moose sounds and banging coconuts really upped our game toward the end there.”
“Huh.” I jerked my coffee back, careful not to touch her fingers since wanting to explode from the sheer need to be inside her was making my blood pump in all the wrong places. “I was thinking that the real sweet spot was when you started yodeling.”
Jordan blew across her nails and sighed. “Gosh, I just love a good yodel.”
The door to Max’s apartment flew open, then slammed as he shuffled toward us. He reached into his pocket, his hand flailing until he finally gripped his sunglasses and managed to get them on his nose after three more attempts.
All was quiet and then Jordan asked, “Tired?”
Slowly, Max slid his sunglasses down his nose, his eyes bloodshot red. “Yodeling, really?”
“Hey, when a man like Reid sticks it to you, what other choice do you have?”
I choked on my coffee and started coughing wildly while Jordan pounded my back. Shit, it was going to be a long day. She said stick. My anatomy liked that phrase way more than it should.
Max cursed under his breath. “Oh, I don’t know, how about anything but yodeling and purring. And screaming, ‘Reid Emory is a god’ probably wasn’t necessary either, nor was the incessant wall banging. Pop-pop’s picture fell from its spot on the mantel and shattered into a million pieces.” He shook his head violently. “He’d be so ashamed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Pop-pop grew up in the Vegas. Highly doubt he’d be all that surprised.”
“Seventeen times,” Max hissed under his breath. “Seventeen times that jezebel”—he yelled it, peering around me and thrusting his finger into the air—“shouted your name at the top of her lungs. Have you no shame?” He pulled some breath spray from his pocket and squirted it in his mouth. “I half expected you to go hoarse.”
“Not hoarse yet, though the day’s still young.” Jordan winked. I kept calm on the outside, while internally my horny self threw a freaking parade.
“People work.” Max sniffed. “And luckily my fiancée will be back tonight, so we’ll see who keeps up who.”
“Whom,” she corrected.
Max lunged for her, but I stepped between them.
She shot Max a confident smile. “It’s a good thing Reid’s so accommodating, letting me stay with him until who knows how long?” Insert fake laugh. “Maybe invest in some earplugs, Max, since our sexuality clearly offends you.”
“Now see here!” Max huffed. “It’s not the sexuality that offends . . . I have all the sex, all the time, or I used to, until you showed up with your offensive hair and killer shoes.” He stared at her heels. “Damn, I may despise you, but your taste in shoes is incredible.” Max’s eyes went clear with respect, then clouded with anger all over again. “What was I saying? The heel distracted me. Hell, I love it when Becca wears heels.” He got a starry look in his eyes, then cursed. “No sex just may kill me. Reid,” he said, turning to me. “Promise me you’ll take care of the goat.”
“You have a goat?” Jordan crossed her arms. “Is his name Billy?”
Max rolled his eyes. “Like I would ever be that unoriginal.”
“So?” she asked. “What’s his name?”
“I see what you’re doing here.” Max’s eyes narrowed. “NO, we will not be friends. Ever! Never, ever! Not even by way of my goat!”
“Chill, I’m not kidnapping your goat.” She laughed. “Get it, kid-napping?”
“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious!” Max shouted. “Now go be funny away from my brother so I can continue engaging in all sexual activity.”
“Nah, think I’ll stay . . . maybe forever.”
Max’s eye started to twitch behind his glasses.
“Eyelash in your eye, brother? Or is Jordan’s condition wearing off?”
He shoved his glasses up his nose. “No. Just a bit of dirty slut.”
“What was that?”
“Dirt and mud,” he said slowly. “And I know what you two are doing. I won’t stand for it. Two can play this game.”
“Yeah, but only two will win.” Jordan nodded. “And by the sounds coming from our apartment and the silence coming from yours, well . . .”
Max scowled. “I had no partner!”
“Still lost.” Jordan shrugged. “You do know that only winners get prizes, right?”
“You.” Max pointed his finger in her direction just as the elevator doors opened. “I may have underestimated you.”
“That’s a compliment,” I mused.
“It’s all you’re getting!” Max yelled. “Also, thought you guys might want to check this out.” He tossed his cell in the air. I caught it and looked at the screen: REID EMORY TAMES PUBLICIST #THEARCH.
“What’s that?” Jordan looked over my shoulder.
I shoved the phone in my pocket. “Nothing.”
“Dude, not your phone.” Max held out his hand.
Panicking, I wasn’t sure what to do.
Max decided for me when he shoved his hand in my pocket, missing my balls by only a centimeter, and snatched his phone back, then read aloud what I’d just read silently as to not piss Jordan off and send her and her hair on a witch hunt through the city in which she tried to confiscate all forms of technology.