Playing Dirty by Jamie Ann Denton Page B

her.
    “Why won’t you answer the phone, Matt?” he taunted. His warm breath caressed the side of her neck. “Your husband wants to talk to his bride.”
    She spun around and too late realized her mistake. His big body had her trapped between him and the bar. The problem was, Ford hadn’t just invaded her space, he’d invaded her mind, her body. And based on his cocky grin, the rat bastard knew it, too.  
    “You need to back off.”
    He ignored the warning and lowered his head until his lips were a mere fraction above hers. His warm breath fanned her lips. “Not a chance. I’m all in.”
    “You can’t keep doing this. I’m—”
    “Married?” he finished for her. “Yes, you are.” His gaze turned momentarily glacial. “To me.”
    He slid his palms along her jaw and angled her head, then he kissed her again. Hard this time. Possessive. Staking a claim to what he no doubt believed still belonged to him.  
    She planted the heels of her hands against his wide shoulders, intending to push him away, but the second his tongue swept into her mouth, common sense was no longer in her repertoire. The man was as strong as an ox, and bent on reminding her she was his wife, and his alone. She did nothing to dispel him of the notion, either, and kissing him back sure wasn’t helping.  
    Kissing Ford was...right. Perfect.  
    Like home.
    She let out a sigh, gripped the sleeves of his shirt and hung on for dear life as memories assaulted her. Their life together had been filled with departures and homecomings, bittersweet moments forever etched on their collective conscience. Why should today be any different than all the other times Ford had returned from a long mission?  
    One reason...Trenton. Was it really a mere two weeks ago that she’d said, “I do,” and had taken off to Europe for the honeymoon of a lifetime?  
    She couldn’t do this. Kissing Ford wasn’t fair to Trenton, nor Ford. Hell, it wasn’t even fair to her. There were just too many people in the relationship.
    She broke the kiss. With every ounce of willpower and effort she possessed, she planted her palms firmly against his shoulders, and this time she pushed. Hard.
    “Stop, Ford,” she demanded. “Just stop. Please.”
    He took a step back. Confusion, followed by a flash of frustration, and finally disappointment crossed his angular features. “I’m not sorry. We’ve done nothing wrong here,” he said before he dragged his hand down his face. “Christ, Matt. We’ve been married for twelve years. We’ve been together for fifteen.”
    “I know. But I need time,” she told him. “I need to figure out what I’m supposed to do. And I can’t do that if every time we get near each other, we’re going at it like we were teenagers again.”
    A half smile unexpectedly tugged his lips. “It wasn’t that long ago, you know.”
    Memories slammed into her. “Here.” She handed him the double shot she’d poured, then splashed more into another glass for herself and took a quick sip. “It feels like a thousand years ago, but then there are moments when...”
    “When it still feels like yesterday.”  
    “Exactly.” She took another sip, suddenly exhausted. She’d just survived the most insane and bizarre day of her life. Was it any wonder she was ready to collapse?
    Alone.
    “Will you be okay in the guest room?” she asked him.
    He shrugged, then tossed back the last of the Crown in his glass. “I guess I’ll have to be.”
    He didn’t look too happy about the sleeping arrangements, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it at the moment. “Good night, Ford.”  
    “I’ll lock up,” he offered, then handed off his empty glass to her, just like he’d done hundreds of times.
    She walked into the kitchen where she finished off her drink, rinsed their glasses and added them to the dishwasher. After turning on the appliance, she snagged them each a bottle of water from the fridge and her cell phone off the