“Well, then. Let’s make it interesting.”
Her left brow rose. “You want to bet me that I can’t come up with more euphemisms for sex?”
Ethan leaned closer to her, and when he moved his arm, his knuckles brushed against the back of her hand. “I want to bet you that I can come up with more.”
He could see the interest light in her ocean blue stare. “What do I win?”
“If you win, I won’t follow you home. And if I win, you let me give you a ride.”
“What are the rules?”
“You watch Ellen, right?” He knew she did. It was well known throughout town that she put it on every day at three o’clock at the salon.
“Of course I do.”
“Have you ever seen her play ‘Last Word’?”
She nodded. “First person to repeat a phrase or not be able to come up with one loses.”
“Yep.”
“Ready?” Ethan asked.
“Horizontal mambo,” she began.
“Screwing.” He figured he’d start off easy.
“Jamming the clam.”
“Knocking boots.” He went old school.
“Dipping the wick.”
He started to point out that she’d already said that one but she beat him to the punch. “It didn’t count we weren’t playing yet!”
“Fine,” he conceded. “Bedroom rodeo.”
“Paddling up coochie creek.”
“Slap and tickle.”
“Parting the pink sea,” she shot back.
His pants were beginning to get snug at her colorful phrases.
“Humping.”
“Laying pipe.”
“Sharpening the pencil.”
“Doing the wild thing.”
“Making love.” His voice deepened, and he saw her eyes widen slightly.
Her breath caught. He could see that it affected her more than she wanted to reveal.
There was a wobble in her voice as she said, “Getting laid.”