Risqué Management

Chapter 26

I felt guilty about missing classes on Monday, but the extra time with Brooke had been worth it. She’d opened up a lot in just a few days, and we were already making plans to get together in June for her graduation. We’d also invited her to spend some time at camp after her summer internship. She said she wanted to try swinging for real, but she was honest enough to admit that she still might chicken out.

I was fairly sure she had an ulterior motive as well—she wanted to meet Wren and size her up. She didn’t actually call Wren “the competition,” but I knew her well enough by then to understand her thinking. I’d have done the same thing in her position. Christy had a certain type she fell for, and each of us wanted to know who the others were.

At least Brooke and Wren understood the difference between partners and lovers. Partners came and went, sometimes without any emotional attachment at all. Lovers were more than just sex, although Christy had slightly different definitions. She still didn’t think of sex with another woman as real sex (or even cheating, for that matter). She didn’t think of blowjobs as sex, either. She said she did, but I wasn’t convinced. Penis in vagina was the only sex that mattered to her, end of discussion.

So, according to her logic, I was her only lover, which made me wonder how she’d handle swinging for real. She wasn’t the least bit interested in sex with Trip. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind blowing him, but anything more was an open question. Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to answer it any time soon, especially with Wren’s grueling school schedule. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about it.

* * *

School and life and routine kept me busy for the next few days. I played catch-up with Freddie and Rosemary for the classes I’d missed, and I returned to dance practice with Terri, while Christy did the same with the main group.

“Does it bother you,” Terri asked, “that you aren’t with them?”

We were taking a break at the end of the gym while the others practiced in the center. They were learning a new waltz routine. I could follow the figures when the instructors went through them slowly, but they looked impossibly complicated at full speed.

“Not really,” I said. “I’m getting better, but I’m not there yet.”

“You will be. You learn quickly.”

“Thanks. But what about you? Does it bother you to be stuck here with me?”

“No, not at all. I like teaching.” She smiled hesitantly. “And… I like spending time with you.”

“You must be a glutton for punishment.”

“I’m a glutton for something.” She ignored my arched eyebrow and said, “Come on, let’s work on something more advanced. It’s Bronze-level, the basic weave. Start in the closed position…”

* * *

On Thursday I met with Professor Joska to discuss my project. He was happy with my progress but pointed out that the building still didn’t have a real purpose. I’d always thought of it as an office building, but I realized I didn’t want to break it into discrete spaces. I wanted an open floor plan instead, one that would show off the wood and laminated structural members.

“It started as a temple, correct?” Joska said. “Perhaps it could complement one instead.”

“How?”

“What would you want if you visited a large temple complex?”

“I dunno. Maybe a gift shop? Or a snack bar? Although… now that I say it, those sound crass and commercial.”

“Mmm, yes. Then perhaps something else, more in line with the site’s historical nature?”

“I know! A visitor’s center.”

“Just so.”

I made a note and then grinned.

“Is this amusing?” he asked, intrigued rather than irritated.

“No, sir. But… I know what you just did.”

He gestured for me to explain.

“You didn’t tell me what to do. You guided me to my own solution instead. Still, it was the one you’d already thought of.”

“Mmm.”

“You did the same thing with this project. Instead of telling us to think about our designs in terms of systems and structures, you’re showing us what happens when we don’t.”

“You’re learning,” he said.

“How to be an architect or how to be a good teacher? Or… how to be a mentor?”

“Perhaps all three.” He sized me up. “You might not believe it, but I was once a young man such as you. And my mentor took the time to guide me instead of forcing me down a certain path.”

“Would you have rebelled?” I teased gently. “Like I do?”

He flashed a wry smile. “Perhaps.”

“Was he as critical and demanding as you are?”

“Oh, much worse.”

We shared a moment of camaraderie.

“Since you’re in a helpful mood,” I ventured, “I’d like to ask you something. It isn’t school-related.”

“Go on.”

“I have this project… for a friend.” I gave him an overview of Susan’s camp renovation.

Joska sat back and steepled his fingers when I finished.

I waited as long as I could before I said, “Do you think it’s too much?”

“Absolutely,” he said immediately. “You cannot manage a project of this scale.”

“Oh, no! Sorry. I should’ve mentioned… Trip and I are doing it together. He’ll be in charge.”

“You and Mr. Whitman? Ah, that is different.” He fired a series of questions at me, about the phases and what type of work they entailed.

I answered them as well as I could, but some of my replies raised more questions than they answered.

“We have someone else to advise us,” I said at last. “Trip knows him. He’s a retired project manager for a big construction company. We also have a consultant lined up in South Carolina. He worked for the WPA— Sorry, the Works Progress Administration.”

“I’m familiar with them,” Joska said. “Part of Roosevelt’s New Deal. A very ambitious series of public works. Parks, schools, and the like.”

“Exactly. And even though the guy’s in his eighties, he should be able to offer lots of advice.”

“And now you would like my advice?” Joska asked.

“Yes, sir. We have a meeting with the owner this weekend. Trip and I’ll be looking at the site and the buildings and everything else. We have a fairly good idea of the overall requirements, but we need specifics before we can move forward. Still, we know it’s a big job. A huge one, really. Maybe not for a big company, but we’re just two college students.”

“Yet you have experience with this sort of project.”

“Not really.”

“You renovated houses the past two summers, did you not?”

“Yes, but this isn’t the same. We’ll be doing more management for this project.”

“Similar to what you did recently? With the houses in Fort Sanders?”

“You know about those?” I asked in surprise.

He smiled. “I like to follow the careers of my students. The most promising ones, at least.”

“Oh. I… didn’t know. Still, how’d you find out about the houses?”

“The architect is a former student of mine. She called and asked if you were serious or just meddling.”

“What did you tell her? Never mind. I think I know.”

“Yes,” he replied succinctly. “And about this new project, for your friend. It sounds very ambitious, but you already know what I would say to you.”

“That I should aim too high and maybe fall short. Better than aiming too low and hitting the mark.”

“Just so. Still, you must work very hard if you wish to succeed, and you mustn’t neglect your studies.”

“No, sir.”

“You might have to give up some of your extracurricular activities.”

For a panicked moment I thought he was talking about my sex life, but then I realized that he meant dance class and the ballroom team.

“That isn’t going to happen,” I said with a laugh. “Christy loves dancing, and I love her. So I’ll have to find more hours in the day.”

“The number is finite, I believe.”

“Then I won’t sleep. It’s overrated anyway.”

“I thought so myself once.”

“And…?”

“The project was successfully completed. Eventually. But you cannot maintain such a pace for long.”

“My candle burns at both ends. It will not last the night. But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends, it gives a lovely light!”

He frowned in thought.

“Something my mother used to say. She was quoting a poet. Edna St. Vincent Millay, I think.”

“Ah. But she is right, your mother and this poet of hers. The candle gives a lovely light… for as long as it burns. So you mustn’t let it burn out before you finish.”

“The project? It’s only two years,” I said.

All of a sudden he laughed.

I thought he was mocking me, but then he smiled fondly.

“Not many people think in such terms,” he said. “Not at your age, certainly.”

“I’m not like people my age.”

“No,” he agreed, “you are not.” We fell silent for a moment before he pointed to my Japanese building plans. “You have your immediate answers?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“And you’ll learn more about your long-term project this weekend?”

“I hope so.”

“Come discuss it with me next week.” He shifted papers on his desk until he found his calendar. “Perhaps… Wednesday after your lab period?”

“Sorry, I can’t. I have dance class and then ballroom practice.”

He gave me a pointed look.

I ignored it and said, “I’m free Tuesday, late afternoon.”

“Mmm, no. I will be terrorizing first-year students.”

“Huh?”

“I have a class,” he said dryly.

“Ha! Okay. Architecture is a serious business for serious people.”

“Yes. I still hope that some of them might take it to heart.”

“Only the best,” I agreed. “How about after your class?”

He glanced at his calendar. “Five o’clock?”

“Isn’t that when you normally leave for the day?”

“I believe I can stay late for a student with an ambitious project.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome.” Then he smiled, a conspirator rather than mentor. “But please don’t tell the others. They mustn’t think me soft.”

* * *

Trip stuck his head out of his office when Christy and I returned from dance practice on Friday evening.

“Hey, come in here,” he said to me. Then he paused and looked at Christy instead. “Sorry, do you mind if I borrow Paul for a few minutes?”

She stiffened in surprise but recovered quickly. “No, of course not.” She touched my arm. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

“Sure.” I kissed her and sent her up with a pat on the bottom. Then I dropped my backpack and duffel bag on the dining room table as I walked by. I stepped into Trip’s office and sank into the side chair. “What’s up?”

“I was talking to Susan and going over the to-do list for tomorrow. Wanted to run it by you to see if we’d missed anything.” He handed me three pages of neat notes on yellow lined paper.

I started reading and asked a few questions, but he had most of it covered. The list was daunting, to say the least.

“Can we really do all this in two days?” I asked.

“I hope so. The cabin inspections alone will take most of the day tomorrow, but they’re the biggest unknown.”

“What about the clubhouse?”

“Susan wants to build new, so we don’t need much of an inspection.”

I nodded. “I’ve also been thinking about the motel buildings.”

“How to add the plumbing?”

“Yeah.” I sketched out my plan to build a wet wall along the central load-bearing wall.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Trip said, “but I wanted to run it by you first. We’ll have to do a raised floor to make the toilets work, but it’s a lot more cost-effective than jackhammering through the foundation.”

“No kidding. And I was thinking of furring the other walls and adding insulation and drywall.”

“Oh? Why?”

“To make them more homey. Cinder blocks are kind of institutional.”

He nodded.

“Also, the insulation will help if we add wall-unit air conditioners. They don’t make sense for the cabins, but the motel buildings are where most short-term campers stay. Susan’s competing against traditional vacation resorts, so the A/C will make the Pines more attractive.”

“Now you’re thinking like a project manager,” Trip said with a grin.

“Do you still think we can do it?”

“I’m getting more confident as I get more information.”

“I talked to Joska about it.”

“What’d he say?” Trip asked sourly. “That we should focus on school instead?”

“Not at all. He thinks we should do it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. He told me to stop by his office next week and he’ll take a look at what we find this weekend.”

“For real?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait, does he want to get paid or something? As a consultant?”

“No,” I said with exaggerated patience, “he wants to help.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Trip teased, but it had an edge of resentment to it.

“Whatever. You’re better at the management and planning, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“No, you’re right,” he admitted. “I guess I’m just a little jealous. I’m used to being the MVP. I don’t like being the runner-up.”

“Well, I wish I could do what you do,” I said. “But I can’t, and I’m okay with that. To each his own. Now, was that all? I’d kinda like to shower before we eat. And then I have a ton of reading to do.”

“No, one more thing,” he said. “Susan wants to talk to Christy.”

“Talk to Christy? About what?”

“If she’d told me that,” he said with his own brand of exaggerated patience, “she wouldn’t need to talk to her, now would she?”

“No, I guess not.”

“She talked to Wren for a while too. Sounded like PR stuff and advertising. So I suspect she wants to talk to Christy about art and decorating.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. It’s a big project—”

“With a lot of requirements,” he added.

“And Susan’s the real project manager here.”

“Right. You and I are just the construction managers. We have the biggest share of the budget, but—”

“We aren’t the only ones working on it. Got it. Okay, I’ll tell Christy.” I stifled a yawn and scrubbed a hand over my face.

“You okay?” Trip asked.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“Same here. I’m worried about Wren, though,” he continued. “She’s burning the candle at both end— What’s so funny?”

“I said the same thing to Joska.”

“I guess we all are. Well, except Christy.”

I bit back a peevish reply. “She’s busy too,” I said instead. “You don’t see it ’cause she’s in the studio most of the time.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He paused for a moment and chose his next words carefully. “Did I do something to annoy her?”

“No,” I lied, “not at all.”

“I thought maybe I had. I know I was sort of a jerk about Sayuri and the gifts, but…” He shrugged. “Wren accused me of taking her for granted.”

“Who? Sayuri?”

“No, Christy!” he laughed. “God, no. I don’t wanna… you know… with Sayuri.”

“Well,” I said diplomatically, “if you wanna ‘you know’ with Christy, you might be a little less… presumptuous.”

“So Wren was right?”

I shrugged instead of confirming it and making him feel bad.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry.” He paused and then sighed. “I guess I’m just eager ’cause Wren’s been too tired to… you know.” He laughed. “Well, not as much as usual, at least. She still has needs, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.” She and Christy hadn’t been spending time in Siobhan’s office, which said a lot about her level of exhaustion.

“Tell Christy I’m sorry,” Trip said, although he immediately changed his mind. “No, don’t. I’ll try to be more…” He searched for the right word.

“Respectful,” I said when he couldn’t come up with it.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Is that why you asked her if you could borrow me?” I asked.

“Yeah, sort of. I’m trying to do better.” He grimaced. “Wren also accused me of being bossy.”

“Ha! That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“That’s what I told her,” he agreed, “but you can imagine how that went over.”

“Fireworks?”

“Sort of, but not really. She was too tired. She sulked a little, but…” He shrugged.

“Anything we can do to help?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh?”

He shot me a glance and then decided to go for it. “She wants to start looking for a job. I told her she’s crazy, especially on top of everything else, but…” He shrugged. “You know her. She’s so stubborn.”

“No kidding.”

“So I’ve been thinking about what she can do after she graduates. I have a couple of ideas, but I need to talk to her father first.”

My eyebrows ticked up.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I still don’t like that she’s Daddy’s Princess, but this is my idea. Besides, I don’t have enough money or the right experience to pull this off.”

“Oh? What’re we talking about?”

“I’m not sure if it’ll work, but I wanna get my hitters lined up first.”

“And I’m one of those hitters?”

“Yeah,” he said, a little guiltily. “But I don’t wanna seem… presumptuous.”

I grinned at the word.

“It’ll mean some design work, which we’ll pay you for,” he added quickly.

“What kind of design work?”

“I’ll tell you more after I talk to her father. But… are you up for it?”

“Of course,” I said. “You know I am.”

“Thanks. I was hoping you’d say that, but…” He shrugged again and sighed with more than simple exhaustion.

“Hold on,” I asked, “are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He thought about it and decided to say what was on his mind. “I guess it seems like me and Wren and you and Christy are going different directions lately. Spring break, then Easter… We do our thing and you do yours.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I shrugged in silent agreement.

“I guess I always thought, you know, once you and Christy started sleeping together…”

“That we’d all just hop into bed and have a big orgy?”

He winced guiltily. “Something like that.”

“I dunno if that’ll ever happen,” I admitted. “Christy’s… weird… about sex.”

“She doesn’t like it? But Wren said—”

“No, it isn’t that. She likes it fine. Loves it, in fact. But… she’s weird about guys and sex.”

“Ah,” he said slowly. “So it is me.”

“It isn’t personal.”

“Are you sure? I know I rub her the wrong way sometimes.”

“As long as you understand that swinging is her choice, not yours or mine.”

“Of course,” he said, although it sounded pro forma.

The phone rang before I could reply.

Trip sighed and leaned forward to grab the handset. “Hello? Oh, hi! Yeah, sorry. They got home a while ago, but I’ve been talking to Paul.” He listened for a moment. “Sure, hold on.” He covered the mouthpiece and said to me, “Susan. She wants to talk to Christy.”

“Be right back.” I pushed myself out of the chair and went to the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, honey?” I called up. “Phone, for you. It’s Susan.”

Light feet pattered across the floor, and Christy’s head appeared over the railing. “For me?”

“Yeah. She wants to talk about decorating, I think.”

“Oh. Okay.” She disappeared.

I returned to Trip’s office, where he was nodding into the phone.

“Okay,” he said, “we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Yeah, bright and early. Paul and I are leaving at six.” He glanced at me for confirmation before he said, “So we’ll see you at eight. Sound good? Okay, bye.” He replaced the handset in its cradle. “Sorry. Where were we?”

“You,” I said as I sank into the chair. “And Christy.” I drew a deep breath and marshaled my thoughts. “Don’t worry, she’ll come around.” I wasn’t as convinced as I sounded, but he didn’t pick up on it. “Just… don’t take her for granted.”

“And don’t be so bossy?”

“I don’t mind,” I said, “but—”

“She does. Got it.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“That’s cool,” he said. Then he laughed. “Now I know how you and Wren must’ve felt when you were waiting for me to come around.” He laughed again. “Serves me right, huh?”

“Hurry up and wait,” I agreed.

“Yeah, all right. I’ll be cool. Besides, it’s not like I have a shortage of women in my life.”

“Uh, no.”

“But… I’ll be honest,” he added, “a partnership’s only as good as the silent partners.”

“Meaning that you and I are only as good as you and Christy and me and Wren?”

“More or less. So I’ll work on it from my side,” he said. “And… I’ll be patient. That’s what you and Wren did for me.”

“It worked.”

“Yeah, but Christy isn’t me.”

“Thank God for that!” I laughed.

“No kidding. I like you a lot, but you aren’t my type.”

“I have a dick.”

“Deal breaker,” he agreed with a grin. Then he drew a deep breath. “I’d better let you shower and eat. Don’t worry about me and Christy. We’ll make it work.”

* * *

I woke up at my usual time the next morning. Christy felt me stir and scooted closer. She was a little furnace, so I kicked my right leg free of the covers.

“Are you going for a run?” she asked.

“Thinkin’ about it.”

“Can I convince you to stay?”

“Mmm, probably.” I smiled when her hand found my penis. Then I turned serious and asked, “How long’ve you been awake?”

“A while.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I like watching you. You’re so peaceful.”

“The sleep of the innocent.”

She scoffed but didn’t stop stroking me.

I yawned and stretched. “So,” I said when I felt more awake, “why couldn’t you sleep?”

“I was thinking.”

“About…?”

“This and that.”

“Anything I should worry about?”

“No, not really. Only…”

Several seconds passed.

“Only…?” I prompted.

“Only, I think you should do whatever it takes to get the job. With Susan.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Just… make sure she’s happy.”

“Why? Did she say something? Last night?”

“Sort of. Mostly we talked about decorating,” she lied. She felt my reaction and moved her hand to my chest to pacify me. “Please don’t ask. No, I’m not telling you everything. ’Cause… um…” She had a sudden inspiration and said, “It’s a surprise!”

“A surprise?” I repeated suspiciously.

“Yes. So don’t ask any more questions. Please.” She returned her hand to my manhood and tried to stroke it back to life. “What’s the matter?” she said after a fruitless minute. “You were hard earlier.”

“I wasn’t worried earlier.”

“And you shouldn’t be worried now.” She pushed the covers down. “Are you sure I can’t distract you?” She planted kisses toward my semi-hard cock.

“You can try,” I agreed.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll suck seed.”

I chuckled at the pun. “Okay, fine, have it your way.”

“I usually do.”

* * *

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how I looked at it—I had to rush to get ready to leave for the airport, so I couldn’t brood about Christy’s “surprise.” Then Trip ignored my one-word replies during the flight to South Carolina. He insisted on talking about the project, and he went over most of it again with Susan as we drove to camp. She wanted to know my thoughts, of course, so I gave up trying to figure out what Christy had meant.

I didn’t have time the rest of the day, either. We spent six hours in, on, or under the smaller cabins, all twelve of them. We poked, prodded, and pried nearly everything. We discovered some surprises, including a family of possums living in the crawlspace of one, but most were in pretty good shape.

We couldn’t say the same for the two-bedroom cabins. We already knew that some weren’t worth saving, but we discovered problems with all six, including the one where we’d stayed the previous summer. Its drainage trench had never been maintained. It had filled over the years, and water had caused rot all along the back and sides.

The other large cabins had similar problems, but the last was the worst. Its drainage was fine, but something about it seemed odd, although we couldn’t decide what. Then Trip checked it with his four-foot level, and we discovered that the entire building sat at a slight downhill angle. He frowned and removed the lattice from the crawlspace entrance so he could check underneath.

“You aren’t gonna believe it!” he called almost as soon as he disappeared.

I stuck my head and torso into the opening and followed the beam of his flashlight.

“The whole thing came off its foundation pads,” he said. “It’s sitting directly on the ground.” He played the light over the rest of the underside, but we’d seen enough.

I stood and dusted off my jeans while he wriggled through the opening I’d just vacated.

“How’d that happen?” I wondered aloud.

“Who knows. Maybe a tree.”

Susan nodded. “Several years ago. A big pine fell and hit it. The winter of ’80, I think. Jeremiah had to replace a big section of roof and part of the back wall.”

“Did he replace the water and sewer lines?” Trip asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“He must have,” I said. “If it came off the foundation…”

Trip didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, but he gave me a look that spoke volumes. “It’s our fault,” he said instead. “Paul and I should’ve noticed.”

“No,” Susan said wearily. “I should’ve had a licensed contractor look at it. I—”

“We’re all to blame,” I said. “But that’s why we’re here, to fix things.”

“And to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Susan agreed. She asked Trip, “Can we lift it back onto the foundation?”

“If we had a big enough crane. But it still wouldn’t be worth it. The central floor beam is cracked, so the whole cabin has sagged and warped. Besides, the log posts have been in contact with the ground for years.” He rubbed his jaw and thought about it. “The foundation pads are fine, but the wood is just…”

“Old,” Susan said with a sour look. “Like everything else around here.”

“Some things are better preserved than others,” I said into the silence.

“I’m glad you think so—”

“I know so.”

“You’re sweet,” she said.

We fell silent until Trip heaved a sigh.

I checked my watch. “Do we have time to look at the clubhouse?”

“Yeah. We don’t need to finish going over this cabin,” he added with mild disgust. He marked through a line on his notepad. “Total write-off.”

“I hope it’s the only write-off,” Susan muttered.

I shot her an exasperated look and said, “Stop. Just… stop.”

“Sorry. This makes me feel old.” She waved a hand at the cabins around us. “I remember when these were brand-new and beautiful. The years haven’t been kind—”

“To the cabins,” I stressed. “They’ve been plenty kind to you.”

Trip nodded agreement.

“Besides,” I added, “you’ve taken better care of yourself than the camp.”

“I should’ve done both.”

“You didn’t know,” Trip said. “Neither did we. Hell, I should’ve spotted some of these things a mile away. But I was too busy with my own… uh… life.”

“We all were,” I said. “Come on, let’s take a look at the clubhouse before it gets dark. I wanna get some measurements and start thinking about the new design.”

“And there’s a hot tub with my name on it,” Susan added. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m dusty and sore.”

“And ready for a beer,” Trip said.

“At the very least,” Susan agreed.

* * *

We finished about an hour later and walked down to Susan’s house. Trip and I took turns in the guest bathroom, although the water for my shower never made it past lukewarm.

“Maybe you should think about renovating this house,” I said to Susan when I joined her in the kitchen.

She had showered as well. And instead of jeans and a flannel shirt, she wore a short terrycloth robe that clung to her curves. She normally didn’t wear anything around the house, but the temperature was cool after the heat of the day.

“You mind if I turn up the heat?” I asked. I only had a towel around my waist, and my skin already prickled with goosebumps.

“Oh, sorry,” Susan said. “I forgot. I turned it down when I left this morning.”

“Why?”

“To save money. The house never gets direct sun, and it costs a fortune to heat.”

I chuckled in amusement and disbelief. She was worth millions but scrimped on her electric bill.

“Besides,” she added defensively, “it was warm today.”

“It isn’t now. It’s bordering on chilly.”

“So? Turn the heat up.”

“That isn’t the point. It shouldn’t cost that much to heat this place,” I said. “It’s built well, no obvious leaks. When’s the last time you upgraded the system?”

“I don’t know. I can look in my files, but…” She thought back and winced. “It’s been a while.”

“Mmm hmm. A modern heat pump would cut your bill in half. While we’re at it, we could install a new water heater.”

“Why?” she protested. “The one I have works fine.”

“Maybe for one person. Or two. But my shower was… a little colder than I’m used to.”

“You never complained about cold showers before.”

I laughed when I realized she’d changed the subject. She was talking about our first time together. We’d had sex in the patio shower, which didn’t have hot water at all.

“True, but I had someone to keep me warm. Well, certain parts of me. Hold that thought,” I said before she could reply. “I’m gonna turn up the heat. Be right back.”

I jogged to the back hallway and rotated the thermostat. The heat kicked on with a satisfying click as Trip emerged from Doug’s old bedroom. He took one look at me and stopped.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I wasn’t sure…,” he began. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. He gestured at my bare torso. “Isn’t it a little chilly?”

“She had the thermostat turned down,” I explained.

“Okay. But I still wasn’t sure if I should wear clothes or not.”

“I’m not,” I said. “Duh. And Susan’s only wearing a robe. You won’t be out of place or anything, but if we’re going in the hot tub later…”

“Yeah, you’re right. Towels in the hall closet?”

“Yep. See you in a few.” I returned to the kitchen, where I surprised Susan as she bent in front of the oven. She was nude underneath her robe, of course.

She straightened and set a bubbling casserole on top of the stove. Then she rolled her eyes when she realized I’d been maneuvering for a better view.

“Hey, can you blame me?”

She smiled and started to say something, but then Trip joined us, wearing only a smile and a towel around his neck.

“Oh, my,” she laughed. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Since when am I a ma’am?”

“Since you’re our new boss,” he said. “Well, if we get the job.”

“You have excellent references. And your equipment comes highly recommended,” she joked.

Trip shot me a grin.

“We’ll have to discuss the work schedule,” Susan added. “I know you have regular commitments, but I like to, ahem, stay on top of things.”

“Of course,” Trip agreed. “We’ll give you frequent… um… ‘reports.’ And whatever else you want.”

“Including personal service?”

“Very personal. It’s our specialty.”

“Close your mouth, dear,” she said to me. “You’ll catch flies.”

I closed my mouth and felt like I’d swallowed a fly instead. Trip wasn’t normally so brazen, and I had a sneaking suspicion that he knew something I didn’t. Then I realized what Christy had meant by “do whatever it takes to get the job.” She hadn’t been talking about my skills as an architect.

The little head was all for it, of course. He was eager to prove his qualifications in the personal service department. The big head wasn’t so sure. Were we being offered the job because we were young and horny? Did Susan expect us to service her as part of the agreement?

“Don’t overthink it,” she said. She switched gears almost immediately and said to Trip, “Will you grab some beers from the fridge? And fetch the salad while you’re in there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She grinned. “I could get used to this.” She turned businesslike and used oven mitts to move the casserole dish to a trivet on the table. “I hope you don’t mind Chicken à la King. I was feeling nostalgic. And I hope you’re okay with biscuits from a can.”

“Of course.” “No problem.”

“Every respectable southern woman should know how to make them from scratch,” she added, “but I don’t pretend to be respectable. Besides, I never mastered the art.”

“You mastered other things,” I said.

“Exactly,” Trip agreed. “But who cares? I’m starving. I could eat a horse.”

“Anything else you’d like to eat?” Susan teased.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Oh, boy,” I sighed, “it’s getting thick in here.”

She blinked coquettishly and asked, “Is anything else getting thick?”

“I thought your ‘special friend’ was taking care of you,” I said.

“Oh, he does. But I have my eye on someone else tonight.” She glanced at Trip. “Maybe two someones…?”

“Do you mind if we eat first?” He spread his towel on a chair and slid into it without waiting for an answer.

“Of course. You’ll need your strength. Both of you.” She gestured at my chair and pulled out her own.

“Step into my parlor,” I said under my breath, “said the spider to the fly.”

“It isn’t all that bad,” she laughed. She spooned casserole onto my plate. “Besides, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, I want to. As a matter of fact, I sort of have orders.”

“Orders?” She glanced at Trip as she filled his plate. “From you?”

“Uh-uh. Probably Christy.” He grinned. “She rules the roost these days.”

“And Wren doesn’t rule your roost?” I shot back.

“Never said she didn’t. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“And what about you?” Susan asked me. “Does Christy approve?”

“You know she does. That’s why you talked to her, isn’t it?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I wanted to clear it before I… um… ‘suggested’ anything.”

“And what if she’d said no?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Trip spoke up. “I’m happy to fool around. He’s weird about sex these days.”

“No,” Susan said, very deliberately, “he and Christy are still deciding what works for them. You and Wren have had more time to think about it.”

“If you say so.”

“You weren’t so sure last summer,” she said.

“I’m sure now, though.”

“Mmm,” she agreed noncommittally. Then she smiled at me. “Go ahead and eat. I won’t attack until later. I won’t attack at all if you don’t want me to.”

“I didn’t say that. I just… need some time to get used to the idea.”

“Really?” she teased. “I thought you liked it.”

“No, the idea that Christy’s okay with it.”

“Didn’t she tell you?” Trip said testily.

“Not in so many words.”

“Why not?”

“What’s it to you?” I snapped. Then I drew a deep breath and tried to relax. “Sorry.”

He accepted my apology and offered his own.

“Sometimes Christy hints instead of telling me outright,” I explained to Susan.

“She’s very traditional.”

Trip looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided to keep it to himself.

I raised an eyebrow.

“I told you,” he said, “I’m trying to do better. I guess I’m more like Wren than I wanna admit.” He thought about it and sighed. “Maybe that’s why you’re a better architect. You’re patient. And you take the long view.”

“You do too,” I said, “just not about certain things. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and all your planning and hard work.”

Susan grinned.

I sighed. “What now?”

“You. And Trip. I like hearing you work out your differences and come to a consensus.”

“We normally don’t do it in front of clients,” Trip admitted.

“But I’m not a client yet,” she said. “You still have to convince me.”

“I’m sure we will. Once we give you some personal service.”

“Oh, please!” I blurted. “You two are the worst. We all know what’s going to happen.”

“Yes, dear,” Susan said patiently, “but sometimes the negotiation is part of the fun.”

“And we still have lots of negotiating to do,” Trip added.

“Speaking of which,” I said, “do you mind if we eat first? And maybe talk about the actual project instead of all this flirting and innuendo?”

“I thought you liked flirting and innuendo,” Susan said. “But you’re probably right.” She glanced at Trip and changed the subject. “What kind of costs are we talking about with the initial phase, at the Retreat?”

* * *

After dinner we moved the conversation to the hot tub, where Susan dropped her robe and surveyed the steaming water. The little head twitched at the sight of her body, but the big head overruled him. We hadn’t finished talking about the project, and Susan clearly agreed. She climbed into the tub and immediately picked up where we’d left off inside.

“Do you think you’ll rebuild the clubhouse with the same layout?”

Trip hopped into the water, popped the top on his beer, and nodded at me to answer.

“I don’t think so.”

Susan sank into the water up to her breasts, and the bubbles swirled around them. She smiled at the direction of my gaze. Then she boldly returned the favor, and her eyes lingered on my pride and joy. She didn’t seem surprised that I shaved, which wasn’t exactly a surprise itself. She and my mom talked several times a week, after all.

“Have a seat,” she offered, and her eyes glinted with amusement as she watched me realize that she didn’t mean in the water.

I sat on the side, as requested. Then I casually spread my legs and adjusted my cock to give her a better view. Two can play that game, I thought at her.

Her eyebrow arched in reply. Then she tried to ruffle me by returning to business. “Why not the same layout?” she asked, curious instead of contradictory.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I said without missing a beat, “especially if we add bathrooms to the motel rooms. We’ll still need a bathhouse for the people in campers and RVs, but I think we should add a dedicated building up there.”

She gestured for me to continue.

“The clubhouse should be a social space,” I explained, “for meals and recreation. I don’t want a large, open space, either. We have that outside. We’ll also have to worry about acoustics if we build an open structure.”

“Acoustics?” She looked at Trip for confirmation, but he simply grinned and gestured for her to listen to me.

“Yes,” I said. “That many people get loud, and we’ll have to add acoustic tiles and maybe baffles to absorb it. Better to break up the space into smaller areas. Not with separate rooms,” I added before she could ask, “but with partition walls and planters and things like that.”

Trip gave her an I-told-you-so look.

She deliberately ignored him and said to me, “Go on.”

“I don’t want to build a simple steel box. I’m thinking about engineered wood instead. And I don’t mean plywood or fiberboard. I’ve been reading about a guy who’s using this stuff called Microllam. It’s laminated veneer lumber, and I think we can use it to…”

I talked for ten minutes and sketched out designs that had only been vague ideas up to that point. My excitement grew as the building took shape in my head, until Susan finally nodded that she was satisfied.

“I want to see something on paper,” she added, “but I like what you’re saying. And I like that you use the word ‘we.’ When you talk about camp. You don’t mean you and Trip and this project, do you?”

I thought about it. “Not really. I guess I think of the camp as my own. Not in any official sense, but…”

“You care,” she finished. “That’s why I want you and Trip to manage the renovation. It’s just a job to the other companies.”

“Christy said the same thing.”

“Yes. She mentioned that.” She turned to Trip. “She’s the one who finally convinced me.”

His eyebrows flew up.

“I was already leaning your way,” Susan explained, “especially after we talked about the second estimates, but Christy made the case that you and Paul love the Pines as much as I do.”

“I could’ve told you that,” he said, a little defensively.

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I guess not. It’s really Paul,” he added. “I like the camp well enough, but I didn’t grow up here.”

“You and I don’t have the same connection, either,” she said. “Not like Paul and I do.”

“No.”

She looked at me. “I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t give you the job if I didn’t think you could handle it. This is business. The other is personal.”

“I understand,” I said.

She turned back to Trip. “I also wouldn’t give you the job if Wren and Christy didn’t support you. I hope you realize that.”

“I— we do,” he said quickly.

“Do you?” She let the question hang in the air. “I don’t think you understand what kind of assets they are, especially Christy.”

“Of course, she—”

“Doesn’t like you very much,” Susan said bluntly. “Not at the moment, at least.”

“That’s my fault,” he admitted.

“Not entirely. But she argued in your favor. You specifically, not you and Paul.”

“She did?”

“Yes. She said no one else will work as hard as you.”

I spoke up, “She’s right about that.”

“So I hope you understand,” Susan continued, “that I’m not hiring just you. I’m hiring your team, all of you. Christy and Wren are as important as you are.”

“He knows,” I said in Trip’s defense. “He said the same thing to me.” I repeated his comment about silent partners.

“But they aren’t exactly silent,” Susan said, “are they?”

“No, not really.” Trip thought about it and added, “Wren is—at the moment—but only ’cause she’s busy with school.” He glanced at me. “And I probably need to give Christy more credit.”

“Mmm,” Susan agreed. “So, back to the project,” she said after a moment. “We’re in agreement?”

“Absolutely.” “We are.”

“Good. I also want to discuss the bonuses and milestones you mentioned. We’ll write up something formal when we finalize the budget and schedule.”

Trip nodded.

“But for now I think a handshake is enough.” She set her beer aside, rose, and extended her hand. “Congratulations. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Trip stood and shook her hand very formally. Then he suffered a moment of vertigo, followed by a goofy grin as he steadied himself.

Susan shook my hand as well. She waited a moment before she asked, “Happy?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’m glad.” She sank into the water and eyed me with more than friendly interest. “Now can we talk about the fringe benefits?” Her grin turned wry. “I know you were wondering earlier if that was the only reason I wanted to hire you.”

I winced. “Was it that obvious?”

“Maybe not to anyone else, but I know you. Remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“I’ll be honest,” she said after a moment, “I almost didn’t offer you the job. I really don’t like to mix business and pleasure.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Lots of things. But mostly how serious you are. Also, Christy and Wren support you. Completely,” she added for Trip’s benefit. “Besides, I think we can keep things separate.”

“I think so.” “We can.”

She grinned at Trip again. “So, you mentioned personal service…?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said on cue.

Some weird part of me still felt that we were moving too quickly—and that business and pleasure were inextricably linked in this case—but the little head firmly overruled the big one. He was ready for some action and didn’t care why it happened.

Trip clearly had the same idea, and with fewer second thoughts. He moved across the tub and lifted Susan to the side. She parted her legs and revealed her shaved pussy.

“Nice,” she said. “Lip service…”

She ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed her thigh. Then he began kissing her pussy, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it. After a moment he gently urged her to lie back to give him better access. She raised one foot to the side and propped her knee up.

Trip began licking in earnest. Susan rested one hand on his head and used the other to pinch her stiff nipples. Her breathing grew heavier, and she moistened her lips in anticipation. I knew an invitation when I saw it, so I moved to her side and aimed my hard-on at her mouth.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I said, “I’m looking for a ’job.”

She opened her eyes and smiled at the pun. Then she kissed the head of my cock. I twisted her nipple and gently tugged. She rolled toward me, grabbed my hip, and raised her head to swallow me deeper. I groaned as her lips closed around my shaft. She sucked for a moment and then withdrew slowly.

We continued like that for several minutes, until Trip stood back and stroked his erection. I pulled my cock from Susan’s mouth.

“Hop down,” Trip said to her. “Let me fuck you from behind.”

She slid into the water, and I scooted into position on the side of the tub. I offered her my hard-on, and she groaned as Trip slid into her from behind. She began sucking me again.

“What do you think?” Trip said. “Best job ever?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice.”

Susan agreed with a moan.

Trip began thrusting, and soon waves lapped at the sides of the hot tub. Susan tightened her lips around my shaft and sucked gently as Trip pounded her from behind. I enjoyed the show and the blowjob until he pulled out and gripped the base of his shaft.

“I’m gonna come,” he said. “Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth,” Susan panted.

“Switch places with me,” he said.

I hopped into the water, and he replaced me on the side of the tub. Susan started sucking him as I moved into position behind her. I aimed my cock at her opening and slid into her, but I didn’t start thrusting right away. Instead, I simply held her hips and enjoyed the feeling of warmth around my shaft.

Susan massaged Trip’s balls and stroked his shaft. A moment later he threw back his head and grunted. She captured the spurting tip of his cock and swallowed his load. I began thrusting at the same time. Susan’s pussy felt warm and smooth, and I knew I wouldn’t last if I went much faster. Instead, I settled in for a long, slow fuck.

Trip propped himself on his hands and watched. Susan had stopped sucking, but he didn’t seem to mind. He tossed his chin at my thrusting hips.

“How’s it feel,” he asked, “to be back in the game?”

I was tempted to tell him that I’d never left, that I’d been fucking Christy and Brooke while he’d been having fun with Wren, Leah, Mark, and whoever else. I didn’t want to brag, especially about my love life, so I simply grinned instead. Besides, Trip deserved to enjoy the role reversal, even if it was only in his head.

“Pretty nice, isn’t it?” he continued.

“Very,” I agreed.

He started stroking himself and then offered his semi-hard dick to Susan. She moaned and started sucking again. He brushed her hair back and watched, while I concentrated on not coming too soon.

After several minutes he said, “Lemme know when you’re ready.”

“Getting close,” I said.

“I thought so. Switch with me.”

I pulled out and hopped to the side of the tub. Susan immediately captured my cock and tried to swallow me whole. I groaned and thrust my hips at her. Trip shot me a grin. Then he moved behind her and began playing with her pussy. Susan knew I was getting close, so she bobbed on my cock with single-minded intensity.

Trip must have known me better than I realized, because he timed it perfectly. The pressure built in my balls until I couldn’t hold back any longer. He fingered Susan hard from behind, and she moaned with her own orgasm as mine erupted down her throat. She held her breath and clamped her lips around my pulsing shaft, and her face turned red from the effort.

My cock stopped spurting after what seemed like forever, and she released me with an explosive gasp. She breathed hard through her nose, while I panted to catch my own breath. Trip slowly withdrew his fingers from her pussy.

“Take a minute to recover?” he said.

I swallowed to moisten my mouth. “More like five.”

“Ten for me,” Susan said. She reconsidered and laughed weakly. “How about twenty?”

“Fine by me,” Trip said. “But let’s move inside for round two. I wanna take my time and fuck you properly.”

She grinned. “I could get used to this.”

“Yes, ma’am. Whitman-Hughes, at your service.”

I didn’t feel the need to correct him.

* * *

I went for a run early the next morning, before Trip or Susan were awake (or so I thought). The morning air was cool and damp, but not so cold that I needed a sweatshirt. I jogged up the hill and then turned toward the Retreat. I could see well enough in the predawn light, and I enjoyed the quiet of the forest as I ran.

I thought about Christy mostly. I was a little surprised that she’d adjusted to swinging so quickly. As a matter of fact, she’d adjusted to the whole lifestyle, although I realized it was only a partial adjustment. She was willing to let me fool around, even on my own, but she hadn’t made the leap to sex with other men.

Baby steps, I reminded myself. It took her months before she was ready to have sex with me. And that was only ’cause we were talking about getting married.

In other words, the little head said, once she realized you were in it for the long run.

I was never looking for a notch on my bedpost, I protested.

Speak for yourself, he said.

That’s why you aren’t in charge anymore.

Says you.

Yeah, says me.

He sulked until we reached the Retreat. Then I forgot about him as I jogged around the site. Little had changed since the last time I’d seen it. Trip and I would have our work cut out for us over the summer, but we could handle it. Our first task would be to finish at least two of the bungalows, if only to the point where we could sleep in them and use the bathrooms. Then we could tackle the rest at our leisure.

I jogged to a stop in front of the clubhouse and surveyed the pool. The crew had finished the shell, coping, and concrete deck, but that was all. The pump and filter were still in boxes in the clubhouse, and the basin itself was full of pine needles and other debris.

We wouldn’t want to hike all the way back to the main camp for a swim, so we’d have to clean out the pool and get it running as our second order of business. I added it to my mental list and headed back the way I’d come.

The forest around me had come to life while I’d been distracted by the mundane world. Sunlight glowed in the tops of the trees, and birds called to each other. The air smelled clean and fresh, and even the sandy soil seemed softer than usual. I let my thoughts wander.

Unfortunately, the mundane world intruded as I approached the main road. I could see headlights through the trees, so I slowed to a walk at the sandy intersection. I wondered who might be coming to camp so early, and my confusion only deepened when Susan’s station wagon squeaked to a stop in front of me. She leaned across the seat and rolled down the passenger window. I had a nice view of her cleavage down her terrycloth robe.

“Hello, stranger.”

“Hey,” I said. “What’re you doing here?”

“I ran out to get the papers.” Her elbow rested on the New York Times, the Washington Post, and five or six more.

“Hold on,” I said, “you drove into town? Dressed like that?”

“No, I drove to the box. I have them delivered.” She frowned playfully. “Still a bit slow on the uptake? Your mom said you were getting better.”

“I need to think before I speak,” I muttered.

She laughed. “Come on, get in. I’ll give you a ride to the house.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” I opened the door and tried to move the stack of papers. I had to use both hands. “Holy crap! These things weigh a ton. Do you actually read all these?”

“Of course. Well, no, not exactly.”

I slid into the car and closed the door.

“I get the Journal through the week, for money and investing. The others are weekend editions. I usually read the front page, editorials, and business sections. Politics and international in the major ones. I skim arts and style. And I read the local paper front to back. The same with the State.”

“How long’s it take? A week?”

“Mmm, sometimes.” She shrugged. “I like to stay informed. Besides, I have varied interests, business and otherwise.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I live by myself in a nudist camp that’s deserted half the year. What do you think?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Okay. Well, I’m ready when you are.”

“Not yet.” She eyed my running shorts. Then she deliberately moistened her lips.

My eyebrows ticked up. “Seriously?”

“Why not? Besides, you know how I am.”

“Horny? All the time?”

“Of course. Especially with two men in the house. I’ve missed it.”

“What?”

“Having young men in the house,” she said patiently.

“Wait. Are you talking about me and Trip?”

“Mmm, maybe you aren’t so quick after all.”

“Hold on, you don’t mean… Kirk and Doug?”

“Of course,” she laughed. “Your mom isn’t the only one with fantasies.” She eyed my crotch again. “Speaking of which… take those off.”

My brain struggled to process it, so I stalled. “You’re pretty bossy this morning.”

“I’m your boss, remember? Now, are you going to take them off?”

“Why?”

“Why do you think? And why’re you suddenly clueless again?”

“I’m not clueless,” I said defensively. “I just…”

“I think I understand,” she said. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“No, it isn’t that. I want to. I just…” I thought about it and sighed. “I guess I’m not used to Christy… um… ‘arranging’ things for me.”

“She didn’t ‘arrange’ anything. I did.”

“True. But she agreed.”

“She’s a lot more open-minded than you give her credit for.”

“She says the same— Oh, right. I get it.”

“Mmm hmm,” Susan agreed. “We talk. Remember?”

“‘Talk’? As in… regularly?”

“Not as regularly as your mom and I do, but more than just once.”

“Okay, how regularly?” I demanded.

“More lately,” Susan said with a sly grin, “because she wanted my advice.”

“About what?” I glared before she could call me clueless again. “Never mind. Deep throat.”

“Mmm, yes. We’ve had a couple of, ahem, long conversations.”

I rolled my eyes at the pun. “Deep too?”

“Ooh, you are getting better. Would you like me to show you?” She nodded at my shorts. “It’d be a shame to let that go to waste.”

“Stupid penis. He has a mind of his own.”

“Christy said you talk to it. I hadn’t really noticed before, but she’s right.”

“She’s right about lots of things.”

“Including this.” Susan’s blue eyes glinted with amusement. They were darker than Christy’s, but just as piercing. “So, you like a blowjob after your run?”

“How’d—? Really? You talked about that too?”

“Of course,” she laughed. “That was the whole point.”

“I dunno why I thought I had any secrets,” I muttered. Then I untied the drawstring on my shorts. I lifted my hips and slid them down.

My hard-on sprang up, and Susan leaned across the seat. She rested on the stack of newspapers and gripped my shaft.

“I’ve missed this,” she said.

“Giving head?”

“Yes, but more than that. You and me.”

“For real?”

“Mmm hmm. I like being part of a group, but I also enjoy our time alone together. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to Christy, to make sure she’s okay with it.”

“I wish she’d told me,” I said, a bit petulantly.

“She’s telling you now… with my mouth.”

“Well?” I prompted. “Shouldn’t you stop talking and start sucking?”

“Now who’s being bossy?” She swirled her tongue around my glans and silenced any comeback I might’ve had. “Much better.”

“You’re the boss,” I agreed.

She laughed softly, and her breath felt hot on my shaft. “I wasn’t sure I’d like it,” she said after a moment. “Your new look.”

“Well?”

“It’s nice. Very neat.” She thought of something and chuckled. “Turkish girls. Who knew?”

My brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“How one thing leads to another,” she said cryptically. “Never mind.”

She bobbed on my shaft, and I stopped talking. Then she slowly took me deep. The angle made it a bit harder, but she didn’t let that stop her. I groaned as my cock entered her throat. She closed her lips around the base.

“God, that’s good.”

She nodded agreement, and my cock swelled in her mouth. She held it as long as she could before she had to come up for air.

“You have to teach Christy,” I gasped.

“She’ll get the hang of it,” Susan said. “She’s very determined.”

“She says— Ah, right. She told you that too.”

She chuckled again. “Not so slow after all.”

“No. I still talk too much, though. I get it from you. You’re a bad influence.”

“You say the sweetest things.” She started sucking again, and I forgot what I wanted to say.

I came after only a few minutes, but Susan didn’t seem to mind. She swallowed my load and then sucked gently as I caught my breath.

“That’s enough for now.” She gave my cock a final kiss and sat up. Then she looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She delicately wiped the corners of her mouth and shot me a sideways grin. “I haven’t done that in a while.”

“What? Given head in a car?”

“Mmm. I need to do it more often. Are you available?”

“I’ll check my calendar,” I said dryly.

“Good. In the meantime, you promised me a ride.” She shifted the car into gear and started over the hill.

“Did I?”

“No, but you were going to.”

“It’s a good thing you can read my mind.”

“Yes, isn’t it?”

* * *

Trip was drinking coffee at the kitchen table when we returned. He smirked when he saw Susan’s disheveled robe and my missing shorts. I dropped the stack of papers on the table and tried to ignore him.

“I thought you went for a run,” he said.

“Yeah… I… um…”

“Helped me instead,” Susan said. “I needed to top up the fluids. In my car.”

“In your car,” Trip chuckled. He didn’t believe a word of it, but he wasn’t meant to.

“I’m still a quart low,” she added with a smug look at me.

“A quart!” I blurted. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Trip grinned. “Want some help?”

“No, but thanks,” Susan answered before I could. “I’m still a bit worn out from last night. I can only handle one this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind at all. And if you don’t mind,” he added to me, “I’m going to get to work.”

I started to say that I’d hurry and join him as soon as I could, but a clue came hurtling out of nowhere and whacked me in the head. Susan wasn’t a chore I needed to take care of before I could get to work. Score one for maturity.

“It might be a while,” I said instead.

“Take your time.” He drained his mug and stood. “It’s all stuff I can do by myself. Measurements and materials lists and things like that. You take care of the client. I’ll borrow the car if you don’t mind.”

Susan handed him the keys.

“Need to get some distance estimates for running the new utilities. Then I’ll head to the Retreat and look at things there. Catch up with me whenever.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed. “Are you sure…?”

“I’m sure,” he said. “Y’all have fun.”

He headed toward the bathroom to shower and get dressed, while Susan and I went to her bedroom.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I said as soon as she closed the door behind us.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not entirely clueless. Well, not all the time. You could handle Trip and me in your sleep. So you wanted me alone for a reason. I don’t mind, but… why?”

“I told her you’d figure it out.”

“Who? Christy?”

“No, your mom.”

“What’s she—? Oh, I get it. She wanted you to ask about us, about… spring break.”

“You really are getting better,” Susan said. She unbelted her robe and let it fall to the floor. The little head started to rise to the occasion, even though she’d taken care of him less than fifteen minutes earlier. “Come on,” she said, “let’s get comfortable.” She crawled into the unmade bed and scooted over to give me room. Then she patted the spot next to her.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. MacLean?”

“It’s a bit late for that!” she laughed. “But I will if you want me to.”

“No, you’re right. We’re past that point.” I stripped off my shirt and then sat on the bed to take off my shoes and socks.

“I’d like to think I still could,” she said. “Seduce you.”

“Oh, you could, all right.” I turned and settled with my back against the pillows. Then I eyed her body and made my cock twitch. “See?”

She laughed and began playing with it.

“It wouldn’t take much, either,” I added. “I’m notoriously easy.”

“That’s not what Christy said.”

“I was playing hard to get with her,” I said.

“And you weren’t with me?”

“No. That was a different kind of hard. From the moment I saw you.”

“Oh, I’ve missed this,” she sighed. “The back-and-forth and flirting. You make me feel young again.”

“You are young.”

“Maybe in my head, but the rest of me is falling apart. Like the camp. But we can talk about that later. Right now, we need to talk about—”

“Mom and me,” I said.

“Right. She wanted me to be subtle, but I don’t work like that. So I’m just going to ask.”

“I’m okay with it. What happened. Between us.”

She nodded seriously. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”

“And Christy’s fine with it.”

I blinked in surprise. It was a statement instead of a question. “So Mom told you?” I said. “That I told Christy?”

“Yes. She wanted me to make sure she’s okay too, but I don’t need to. I heard it in her voice. She didn’t mention your mom at all, but she was talking about your future together and the things she wants to do for you. That isn’t the kind of thing you talk about if you aren’t sure about someone.”

“No.”

“She loves you,” Susan said quietly. “Very much.”

“I know. I love her too.”

“So, she’s really The One?”

“Yeah, she is. She… gets me. And she obviously doesn’t have a problem with my lifestyle.” I gestured at the two of us as proof.

“Not even the taboo parts?”

“No. Believe it or not,” I added with a laugh, “she’s even talked about asking Erin to join us.”

“Oh, my!” Susan said. “She is perfect for you.”

“No kidding.”

She paused and then said delicately, “Your mom also wanted me to ask… She said it was an itch and you scratched it, but…” Her eyebrows rose with a suggestion.

“She wants to do it again?”

“Maybe. If the situation’s right. But she won’t if Christy…”

“She’d be fine with it.”

“Would she want to join in?”

“Probably not. She’s weird about a—” I swallowed the word “age” and finished lamely, “Who she likes.” I plowed ahead before she could think about it. “I’m not, though. You know that.”

She understood anyway. “I do,” she said. “And you’re sweet.”

“Christy’s just… weird. Don’t take it personally.”

“I don’t,” she said, which was a polite lie. “Different strokes…”

“She wants to watch. Does that count?”

“Of course.”

“Sorry if I killed the mood,” I said into the silence.

“You didn’t. Reality did. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“All of it,” I joked. My dick had gone soft when the conversation had turned serious and she’d stopped playing with it, but she followed my glance and smiled for real.

“You’re good for me.”

“I’m good for you… in you… on you…”

“Under me?”

“That too!” I gestured for her to straddle my hips.

“And talk about the first thing that comes up?”

“Yeah, it’s an old joke. But sometimes the old ones are the best.”

“Present company included?”

“You aren’t old. You’re… mature. Confident. Sexy. Now, climb aboard. You need more fluids.”

“Mmm, yes. I’m a quart low.” She swung her leg over mine and sat back on my thighs.

I paused to admire her. She wasn’t a teenager, but she wasn’t a frumpy hausfrau either. I saw her clearly, too, not like I had when I was fifteen. She had a few more lines around her eyes, and maybe she sagged a little, here and there, but she was still a beautiful woman.

“Well?” she said when I finished my appraisal.

“Christy’s working on a project now,” I said, “a series about time and beauty.”

She frowned at the non sequitur, but she trusted me to make sense eventually.

“She’s sculpting a girl in the flower of youth, a woman in her prime, and an older woman in her golden years. She’s done a good job with it. The girl is beautiful and innocent. The woman knows she’s attractive but still has doubts. The older woman has an inner beauty. Her outer one has faded, but she radiates confidence.” I paused to let my words sink in.

“I don’t understand,” Susan admitted. “I’m the older woman, clearly, but—”

“The older woman is the most interesting. Not just in general,” I stressed, “but the way Christy’s sculpted them.”

“How?”

I had a sudden inspiration. “The girl is cotton candy. She’s sweet but doesn’t last. The woman is a full meal. She’s enjoyable for a while but then you’re done.”

“And the older woman?”

“A banquet. You can’t take your eyes off her. You don’t know where to start, and you don’t ever want it to end. I know I’m not saying it right, but—”

“No,” Susan laughed tearfully, “you’re saying it just fine.”

“Oh, thank God! I thought I’d—”

She leaned forward and kissed me.

I froze in surprise but recovered quickly.

“Thank you,” she said as she sat back. “I needed that. You reminded me that beauty isn’t always physical.”

“No. And neither is love.”

She smiled.

“Well, sometimes it is.” I gestured at my dick. “Any chance you could…?”

“Leave it to a man to spoil a beautiful moment.” She wasn’t really upset, though. She wiped her eyes and decided to tease me. “Your equipment isn’t ready.”

“And yours is?”

“Well, no,” she admitted.

I put my hands on her hips and drew her toward me. My cock had already begun to stiffen at the first sign of action, and it grazed her pussy as she moved into position.

“Much better,” I said. “We’ll start slow. Then I wanna watch you ride me until you come.”

* * *

We caught up with Trip at the Retreat a couple of hours later. He didn’t seem the least bit annoyed that he’d been working while we were having fun. Of course, Susan was in a good mood, which counted for a lot.

“Fluids all topped up?” he said.

“Oh, yes. I’m very happy with the service so far. I still want regular updates from you, though.”

“Any time.” He shot me a roguish grin. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

“Speaking of jobs…,” I said. “Where are we with the real one?”

“You’re no fun.”

“All play and no work makes Trip a poor boy.”

“Ha! You’re right about that.” He turned serious and gestured at the site. “I’ve looked at everything here. You wanna go over it?”

We took a quick tour, and he reviewed his list for Susan’s benefit. Then we hopped in her car and drove back to the main camp, where we did the same at the RV and camping area.

“We’ll need to hire an engineer or geologist to do a soil analysis,” Trip finished. “They’ll tell us how much ballast we need for the heavier RVs, but an ordinary paving company should be able to do the work.”

“Paving?” Susan said. “I thought we agreed, no asphalt.”

“Gravel, not asphalt,” he explained, “but it’s the same company. And we may be able to use soil for the top layer, but I’ll have to check. It depends on the drainage. I made a note.”

“Ah, okay.”

“And we’ll have to do some research on campgrounds in general,” he added. “Well, Paul will.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you’ll need to design the layout. Heavier RVs are bigger, and they need more room to maneuver.”

“Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought of that.”

Trip had, but he was too polite to rub my nose in it.

We took a break at that point. Susan had brought sandwiches, and we sat on her station wagon’s tailgate to eat them. She and Trip talked about phases and cost estimates, while I ignored them almost completely. I was already designing the RV and camping bathhouse in my head. I decided to add a small community room, and the others were happy to leave me to it.

We started with the motel buildings after lunch. Susan followed along and nodded as I described our plans for the wet wall and other renovations.

“I like the idea to make them more homey,” she said, “but I don’t like window units for the air conditioners. Can we install normal ones instead? Or the kind they use in hotel rooms these days?”

“Probably,” Trip said as he made a note, “but it’ll drive the cost up.”

“I don’t really care.”

“Hold on, what?” I said. “Are you the same woman who turns down her thermostat because it costs a fortune to heat her house?”

“That’s personal,” she said defensively. “This is business. Besides, the budget’s already over a million. Another few thousand won’t make a difference.”

“A few thousand here, a few thousand there,” Trip cautioned. “It adds up.”

“I want nicer air conditioners.”

“You’re the boss.” He made another note and underlined it. “Okay. Are we ready to look at the vacant houses?”

We were, and we spent several hours going over four of them. They were all typical postwar construction, solid, dependable, and utterly boring. We couldn’t do much with the exteriors, but we could update the interiors and make them more attractive to modern visitors.

“I wish you’d let us renovate your house as well,” I said when we finished.

“He’s right,” Trip added. “We could make small changes or gut it completely and start fresh.”

“No!” Susan cried. “That was my parents’ house. I grew up there.”

“Okay,” he said judiciously, “start small and work our way up.”

“Small how?” Susan asked.

“New water heater,” I said immediately.

“Mmm,” Trip agreed, “something more energy efficient. And you were complaining about heating costs?”

“Yes, I—”

“She needs a new heat pump,” I said.

“New windows would help.” He made a note. “We can blow more insulation in the attic. That’d help too.”

“What would all this cost?” Susan asked.

I threw up my hands. “Now she cares about cost?”

“Dude, chill out,” Trip said reasonably. Then he continued to Susan, “We can keep the initial costs down, but you’ll start seeing savings almost immediately. Lower electric bills, for sure, especially with the heat pump Paul mentioned.” He made a couple of notes. “We’ll do everything with an eye toward efficiency and cost savings. I’ll run some numbers and show you.”

“Better,” she said, although she added a reproachful look for me.

“He’s great at design,” Trip said, “but not so good at sales.”

I muttered resentfully, “I’m good at customer service.”

“You are,” Susan said, “and I’m sorry. You only want what’s best—”

“We both do,” Trip agreed.

“—but you need to convince me instead of giving orders.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said.

“You’re a very good architect,” she assured me, “but Trip could sell ice to an Eskimo.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said confidently.

* * *

Christy and Wren were sitting in the living room when we came home. They stood and waited for us to drop our backpacks.

“Welcome home,” Wren said. She waited half a heartbeat before she added, “How’d it go?”

“How d’you think?” Trip said.

Christy rolled her eyes at his bravado.

“We got the job,” I said.

Her expression changed immediately. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

“We knew you would,” Wren added.

“Thanks to you all,” I said.

“What did we do?” She huffed at the sound of a buzzer from the kitchen. “Hold on. I have to take the meat out.” She touched Christy’s arm. “I’ll put yours in and we’ll eat when it’s ready.” She shot Trip a warning look. “Don’t start till I get back.”

He grinned. “Your wish—”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “You won’t get laid for a week, and definitely not tonight.” She pretended to glare at me, but I saw through it easily. She was excited and happy, and not just for us.

I glanced at Christy and knew why. They both had a satisfied glow about them.

“Go on,” Christy told her. “I’ll make sure they wait.”

Wren gave her a smile full of affection and headed toward the kitchen.

Trip waited until she was out of earshot, although he still lowered his voice when he said to Christy, “I owe you an apology.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

“I didn’t realize how much you believed in us, in me. Susan told me what you said—”

“It was nothing,” she said.

“—and I know how much you support Paul. We couldn’t do this without you and Wren in our corner.”

He’d caught her off guard, but she recovered quickly. “Thank you.”

“He really means it,” I added. “Susan said she wouldn’t’ve hired us if it weren’t for you.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t really do anything.”

“Yes, you did,” Trip insisted. “And we— I appreciate it.”

We abruptly fell silent as Wren reappeared from the kitchen.

“Okay, it’s resting. About fifteen minutes.” She smiled at Christy. “I put yours in with the potatoes— Hold on, what’d I miss?”

“Nothing,” Trip said smoothly. “What’s for dinner?”

She eyed him skeptically but said, “Chateaubriand and pommes frites.”

“With a yummy portobello for me,” Christy added.

“How about wine?” he asked. “We should celebrate, with champagne.”

“No, red,” Wren said automatically. “And we are celebrating. With a nice Bordeaux. From Saint-Julien.”

His eyebrows went up. “The case you stole from your father?”

“I wasn’t going to mention that,” she said.

“And… um… we might’ve started early,” Christy admitted. “Only, we didn’t know exactly when you’d be home,” she added in a rush. “Besides, you can’t expect us to talk without a glass of wine!”

“Perish the thought,” I said dryly.

“Mr. Meanie.”

“Yeah, Mr. Meanie,” Trip said as he clapped me on the shoulder. “Lighten up.”

Christy’s eyebrows rose but she didn’t say anything.

“Come on,” Wren said, “we’ll open another bottle. You can tell us about your trip.”

* * *

“That was amazing, babe,” Trip said after dinner. He picked up an empty wine bottle and read the label. “And these Gruaud Larose guys really know how to make wine.”

I didn’t know Gruaud Larose from Guy Laroche, but I knew what tasted good.

“Yeah, it was nice,” I added, “but the steak was the best part. Absolutely amazing, Wren.”

“The best steak I’ve ever had,” Christy said with a wry smile.

“Better than tube steak?” Trip joked.

“That depends,” Christy said. Her smile hardened. It was an invitation to keep digging, and he reached for a shovel.

“On what?”

“Whether I like the owner or not.”

“Oh, burn,” I said, as lightly as I could.

“Ouch,” he agreed. “No kidding.”

“Don’t mess with my girl,” I added. “She grew up with older brothers. She punches above her weight.”

She relaxed slightly once she realized I was on her side.

“Whatever,” Trip said. “I was trying to be funny, but…” He drained his wineglass and attempted to play it off. “She’ll come around.”

I cut him some slack because he’d been drinking, but I still felt the need to say something. “Remember what we talked about the other day,” I cautioned. “One step forward, two steps back.”

“That one of your fancy dance moves?”

“Yeah. It’s called the ‘crash and burn.’”

He realized I wasn’t kidding, and he stopped himself before he made things worse.

“Oh, man,” he said instead, “I blew that save. Time for me to get off the mound.” He inhaled sharply to clear his head. “Sorry.”

My eyes tightened. His apology had been for me.

“Uh-oh,” he said quickly. “Now I really need to stop pitching.” At least he realized why I wasn’t happy. He turned to Christy. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s all right.”

“Not really, but thanks.” He took another deep breath and said to Wren, “Get me outta here, babe. Can I help with the dishes?”

Three sets of eyebrows hit the ceiling. We were so shocked that the tension turned into disbelief.

“What?” Trip protested. “I can change. I can be a New Age guy too.”

“He can,” Wren agreed. She touched his hand and smiled at him fondly. “He doesn’t let others see it very often, but I know it’s there.”

“Well, that’s our cue,” I said at the same time as Christy touched my knee under the table. “Are you ready to head up?”

She smiled for real when she realized we’d been thinking the same thing. She told Wren, “Thanks for dinner. It was wonderful.” She added to Trip, “And congratulations on the job. I know you’ll do well.”

“Thanks,” he said. “We’ll see y’all tomorrow. And… um… I’m really sorry about what I said.”

Christy slipped her hand into mine, and we headed upstairs together. She waited until the bedroom door closed before she balled her fists and stomped a tiny foot.

“Ugh! He drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Yeah, but I thought his apology was sincere.”

“I suppose,” she admitted, “but only ’cause he wants to get lucky.” She shook her head in annoyance. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

I pulled her into my arms and smiled down at her. “Anything you do want to talk about?”

“Yes, please.” She took a deep, calming breath. Then she stretched upward for a kiss.

“I missed you,” I said after.

“I missed you too.”

I decided to tease her to lighten the mood. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m sure!”

“Uh-oh,” I said immediately. “My turn to apologize. Sorry, I just meant that you and Wren had fun this weekend.”

“Oh, that,” she said a little guiltily. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“Nope.”

“Hold on,” she flared, “why’re you giving me a hard time? You had fun with Susan! Why shouldn’t I—?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down.”

“I’ll calm down when you—!” She closed her mouth and simply glared.

“When I what?” I said as evenly as I could.

“Nothing.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “Sorry, I’m still mad at Trip. And I’m taking it out on you. Hold on, why’m I apologizing? He’s the one who treats me like a prize in a box of candy!”

“He knows. He’s trying to do better. Wren talked to him. So did I.”

“Good,” she grumped. “And for the record, this is not how I wanted this evening to go.”

“Oh? You didn’t want a fight with your boyfriend?”

“I didn’t want a fight with anyone. Only, he doesn’t respect me.”

“Of course he does. He—”

“No, he doesn’t, Paul. He thinks I should swoon at the chance to sleep with him. He’s just like the guys in high school. Stupid jocks. But I’m not like that, thank you very much!”

“Hold on, what’s the matter with jocks? I’m a jock. So were your brothers.”

“Yes, but you respect women. So do they. Trip doesn’t. You heard him tonight! ‘Can I help with the dishes?’” she mocked. “Like it’s Wren’s job in the first place, and he’s doing her a favor by helping. Ugh! Rich spent a whole year in Home Economics for less than that.”

I blinked at her vehemence but realized she was right.

“Mmm hmm,” she said. “Now you understand why he annoys me so much.”

“I… hadn’t thought about it like that,” I admitted.

“Because you aren’t a woman. You haven’t spent your whole life fighting for respect and worrying what people think. Or what’d happen if they found out what you’re really like.”

“Now hold on. The last part isn’t true,” I said. “I’ve always worried what people think. And I’ve always had to hide parts of my life.”

“Name one,” she demanded.

“The nudism.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“The swinging,” I added.

“I suppose.”

“And now I have to hide that I’m into bondage and discipline.” I gathered her in my arms. “No, I don’t understand what it’s like to be a woman,” I said, “to have to fight for respect when you’ve already earned it. But I do know what it’s like to have a secret life, to enjoy something that most people don’t understand.”

“I know.” She sighed and hugged me tight. “And that’s why I’m your girlfriend and not his.”

“Forget about Trip,” I said. “He isn’t here.”

“He isn’t here now, but he’s part of your life, part of our lives. And I know he wants me to be a swinger—Wren too!—but it isn’t that simple.” She looked up with genuine worry in her eyes. “What if he doesn’t understand? What if Wren doesn’t?”

“Give them some credit. They understand.”

“Yes, but what if you don’t?”

“Ah,” I said in surprise. “That’s the real question, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she admitted glumly.

“Trust me. I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to.”

“You promise?”

“I swear. I’d sooner cut off my own arm.”

“Which one?”

“The left,” I chuckled.

“You’re right-handed.”

“Ha! All right, I’d sooner cut off both arms, my nose, and my dick.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” she said. “Besides, I don’t want you to cut off your penis. What’m I saying? I don’t want you to cut off anything!”

“I would before I’d force you to do something you don’t want to.”

She looked up with hope in her eyes. “You really mean it?”

“I do.”

She smiled. “I like hearing you say that.”

“I know. That’s why I say it.” I held her in silence, until the tension finally drained out of her.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You’re welcome.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted to come home to,” she said. “It isn’t what I had planned either.”

“Oh? What did you have planned?”

She shook her head.

“That’s okay,” I said. “We don’t—”

“No, I still want to!”

I leaned back and looked down at her.

“You’re going to make me say it?”

“You know I am,” I chuckled.

“Fine! Mr. Insistent. Will you please take me to bed and do naughty things?”

“What kind of naughty things?”

“Sex things. Bondage and discipline things. The kind we don’t tell anyone about.”

I grinned. “You’re a kinky little thing.”

“No, I’m your kinky little thing. There’s a difference.”

“There is,” I agreed. “Now, turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Christy waited calmly as I unlatched the handcuffs and removed them. Then she rolled to her back and rubbed her wrists. After a moment she removed the clamps from her nipples and gasped.

“You okay?”

“Just… tingly.”

She paused to catch her breath. Then she unfastened the leather collar the clamps were attached to, although she had to stop and untangle her gold chain from one of them.

“Do you think we can go back?” she asked. “To that store, I mean.”

“Adam & Eve? Sure. Next time we’re out there. Why?”

“I think I want another collar. A real one. With a leash.”

My eyebrows went up, but I didn’t say anything.

“Yeah,” she said to my unspoken question, “like a slave collar. They had them in the bondage section. Riding crops, too.”

“Riding crops?”

She nodded absently. “So you can spank me while I suck you. I think I’m going to need it.”

“Need it?” I said.

She looked at me and smiled. “You’re cute when you don’t know what to say. You just repeat what I said and make it a question.” She thought back. “We were talking about Terri last time. I told you we were comparing our bodies.”

“Ah, right. I think I remember.”

“Do you think she’s on the pill?”

“Huh? How should I know?”

“She’s half Catholic. On her father’s side. She was baptized and everything.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

Christy nodded.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t know what kind of birth control she uses. It… um… hasn’t come up. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, though. So it probably doesn’t matter.”

“She has a dildo. Does that count? No, I suppose not. You can’t get pregnant from a dildo.”

“Not the last time I checked.”

“Do you think I should get one?”

“What? A dildo?”

“Yeah. Brooke thinks I should, but…” She scrunched her nose. “I like the real thing too much.” She thought about it and sighed. “That’s sort of the problem, though, isn’t it?”

“What’re you talking about?” I finally asked.

“What? Oh, nothing, dear,” she lied. “Just thinking out loud.” She realized she was still holding the collar, so she handed it to me. “I definitely want another one. They have them with wrist cuffs, too. Did you see those?”

“No.” I put the collar on top of the handcuffs and other toys in the nightstand. We had quite a collection already. “We need to find a better place to store all this stuff,” I said. “Especially if we’re talking about getting more. Maybe a suitcase under the bed.”

“Why?”

“We don’t want our entire sex toy collection on display. What if someone opens the drawer?”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

I closed it and turned to sit with my back against the headboard.

Christy scooted closer but immediately regretted it. She squirmed and found a more comfortable position.

“You okay?” I asked again.

She nodded. “Just a little sore. I’ll be fine, though.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh my gosh, yes. I’m still tingly all over. And I came, like, a million times when you pulled my hair.”

“A million times?” I teased.

“A million. I counted.”

I laughed and let it drop.

“Are you upset?” she asked.

“About what?”

“That tonight wasn’t what I had planned?”

“No, of course not. Why? What did you have planned?”

“To be your sexy secretary. You know, since you’re a big professional now. I have the perfect outfit,” she added. “Do you remember my gray houndstooth miniskirt? The high-waisted one with the pleats? Right, that one. I was going to wear it with some black seamed stockings and a sexy pair of fuck-me pumps. Oh, and a see-through blouse, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Laugh all you like,” she said.

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“Mmm hmm,” she said, unconvinced. “I do all this stuff for you, you know. I don’t want you to get bored with me.”

“I’ll never get bored. Besides, you like playing dress-up,” I teased.

“Of course. But I can play dress-up by myself.”

“True. So… what else did you have planned?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I waited.

“Ugh! I hate it when you do that. Fine, Mr. Patient! I was going to pour you a glass of whiskey and rub your shoulders. You know, ’cause you’ve had a long day.”

“Mmm hmm,” I prompted.

“Then I was going to kneel in front of you and ask if you wanted me to rub anything else.”

“What if I’d said no? That I was too tired?”

“Sometimes you’re infuriating. Especially when you’ve had your way with me.”

I chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Little Bit,” I said. “I like teasing you. I can’t help it.”

“Try harder,” she grumped. “I put a lot of effort into this relationship.”

“I know you do. I do too.”

“Sometimes I’m not so sure. It’s all so easy for you. And it seems like I have to make all the sacrifices.”

Something in her tone made me forget what I was going to say next. “What do you mean?” I said instead.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Uh-uh. Tell me.”

“Just forget it. Please? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“No, tell me,” I said, a bit more forcefully.

“Can we change the subject?”

“No, I—”

“I’ll tell you when I’m ready,” she promised. “I… have to work up to it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. In the meantime, can I do something to take your mind off it? I’ll suck your cock,” she said faux-sweetly. “Susan gave me some tips. And I have that spray. I’m very determined, you know.”

“I know, but… I’m not in the mood. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, Paul,” she said softly. “I just can’t tell you. Not yet.”

“Will you at least give me a hint? Is it good or bad?”

“I suppose it depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether God will forgive me or not.”