Accent Hussy (It Had 2 B U) by V. Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

you’re killing the mood here.”
    “Mood? Last time I checked, you were deflecting me with your bitchy sarcasm, and turning me on with your banging ass and voluptuous bosom.”
    “Do people actually say bosom anymore?”
    “I think I just did,” Caleb quips. “I’m going to make it a thing again. I’m saying goodbye to the boobs of my past and welcoming the bosom of my future.” His eyes focus on my girls and he licks his lips.
    “Hello? Last time I checked, my eyes didn’t migrate to my boobs. Do you mind focusing up here again, you perve?” The more he talks, the less attracted to him I get. Then he smiles and the fact that his voice is so boring doesn’t even matter to me. I need to stop this crap before I fall any further into the deep dark hole he’s leading me to. He’s like the White Rabbit, only cocky and lacking a pocket watch.
    He shakes his head, still smiling. “Has anyone told you that your sassiness is quite intoxicating?”
    “Has anyone told you that your voice could make a baby cry?”
    “What’s wrong with my voice?” he asks, a little confused.
    Besides the fact it has no accent whatsoever, nothing.
    “What’s not wrong with it? It’s annoying, and I’d rather listen to Celine Dion gargle mouthwash than be forced to hear you talk for another second.”
    “So you’re saying no to the ride then?” He grins.
    God, stop doing that!
    “No,” I answer quickly. “I’m saying if I go home with you, you will have to stop talking.” Yup, he knew exactly what he was doing with that smile.
    “Wait, are you saying you want me to shut up?”
    “That would be helpful, yes.”
    “You’re kidding me, right?” he asks, completely dumbfounded.
    Just for added emphasis, I pull out my phone and dial a taxi service. The lady picks up on the second ring. “Yes, hi, I need a taxi . . .”
    Caleb takes the phone away from me and hangs it up.
    “Excuse me; I was making a phone call.” I’m trying not to laugh. This crazy flirt thing we have going on is really turning me on.
    Caleb doesn’t say a word. He grabs my wrist and tugs me behind him.
    “Hey, where are we going?” I ask him. He stops, makes a motion of him driving a vehicle, then turns and keeps walking. Oh, I see what’s going on, he’s actually shutting up. I can work with this . . .

 
     
     
     
     

     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    Caleb was silent the entire time in the car—not saying a single word. He didn’t even clear his throat. He let me have control over his stereo, and just to be a bitch, I made sure to station search, lingering on every pop song I could possibly find. I caught him rolling his eyes once or twice, but during Katy Perry’s California Girls, he actually started tapping the steering wheel with his thumbs. I like all sorts of music, but I learned quickly that the best way to torture any man is to assault him with campy pop songs. After fifteen years of torturing Max, he’s now immune to pop warfare. Between Breezy and me, he’s probably heard every single pop song on the market.
    “Where are we going?” I ask him when he starts heading in the opposite direction from where I told him to take me. The minute I got into his car, I told him the directions to my parent’s place. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that I realized he was actually serious when he said he wanted to take me home.
    He gets out of the car, comes around to my side, and opens the door. We’re outside a condo; the exterior walls are made of red wood, and there’s a steep staircase that winds up a hill to his front door. Nope, I’m not getting out of this car. I shake my head when he extends his hand to help me out of the vehicle.
    “Take me home.”
    He looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he leans into the car, unbuckles my seatbelt, sticks a hand behind my back and under my legs, and lifts me from the car.
    “Put me down!” I scream. I start smacking his back and kicking my feet, but the strong