Three Little Words

Chapter 16

We didn’t linger outside after we finished the second bottle of wine. The sexual tension was nearly as thick as the clouds of steam from the hot tub, so we headed upstairs after a quick rinse in the shower. Christy and I climbed into bed and made out for a while, but she was too preoccupied, especially when we started hearing sounds of sex from the master bedroom.

Trip and Wren weren’t being loud, but the inside of the cabin was really one big open space, with only partition walls between rooms. We couldn’t hear individual words—not with the doors closed, at least—but we heard every squeak, bump, and moan.

I offered my hard-on to Christy as a distraction. We lost track of time as she sucked me, but we went right back to waiting as soon as I came. The master bedroom had gone quiet, and each minute stretched into an eternity.

“Did she say when she was going to be here?” Christy asked.

“No, sorry. Just… after she took care of Trip.”

The sounds of round two started up.

I chuckled and stuffed another pillow behind my head. Then I scooted up and leaned against them.

“How can you be so calm?” Christy demanded.

“I just am.” I gestured for her to join me, and she reluctantly laid her head on my chest. “I’ve done this before,” I added. “Remember?”

“You had two girlfriends. I know. You won’t let me forget.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t change my past.

“And they aren’t the only ones you’ve done this with, Mr. Harem.”

“Um… no. Does that bother you?”

She knew I was trying to distract her, but she decided to go along.

“Maybe a little, but only ’cause you’re so nonchalant about it. This is a big deal to me.”

“Why? You’ve done it before.”

“But never with a guy too.” She thought about it a moment. “Well, that isn’t entirely true.”

My eyebrows flew up. I hadn’t seen that coming.

“Lani’s brother used to spy on us. Ooh,” she chuckled, low and suggestive, “that got someone’s attention.”

“Why don’t you give him some more?”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” she said, although she moved her hand to my cock. It was already thick with arousal, and it quickly filled with blood as she began stroking it.

“Are you complaining?”

“No. Just making an observation.”

“Okay. So, you were talking about Lani and her brother…?”

“I was, Mr. Pervert.”

“Hey, watch who you call a pervert.”

“Sorry. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But I’m a little sensitive about that word.”

“Note to self…,” she said. “Anyway, yeah, Peter used to spy on Lani and me. Sometimes we… um… put on a show.”

“Hold on, I thought you were private about sex.”

“I am! But… maybe I’m a bit of an exhibitionist too. Nothing like you,”

she added hastily, “but it’s fun when someone watches. Besides, Peter and I… um… did things too.”

“Such as…?”

“Duh! What do you think? He’s one of the six. Mmm hmm,” she added when she felt my surprise, “number two.”

“Ah, so brother and sister were your boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Um, no, not exactly. Lani was only my girlfriend in private. We were just friend-friends at school. Obviously. Peter was two years ahead of us, so he didn’t hang out with us. And he was never my boyfriend, in public or private. I guess you’d say he was my fellatio-friend. Wow, you really like it when I say that word.”

“Yeah, I do. Back to Peter, though. Why wasn’t he your boyfriend?”

“My dad didn’t want me to have one till I turned sixteen. My mom was

more reasonable, but that was one of the few times she couldn’t convince him. It was totally unfair, too. My brothers had girlfriends when they were in grade school.”

“You’re his only daughter.”

“I know, but fair is fair.” She shrugged and laid her head on my chest again. “So my mom told me not to call anyone my boyfriend. I… think she kinda knew, though. She helped me get around my dad’s dumb rules. I couldn’t go on dates or talk to a guy on the phone, but she let me hang out at their house. It was just down the beach from us, and there was a really nice break where we could surf. She told my dad I was with Noelani, but duh, Peter was her brother, so he was there too.”

“Okay, but I’m still confused. Even if you didn’t call him that, why wasn’t he your boyfriend?”

“He just wasn’t. We weren’t like that. I just did things with him.”

“Fellatio things.”

“Right. I can’t explain it. And besides, you haven’t told me about your group secret yet.”

“Lani and Peter are yours?”

“Part of it.”

“You like keeping secrets from me.”

“Sort of. I hate when you see right through me, but I like telling you stuff.

I mean, I’ve never had a guy I trusted enough to share these things with. I knew my girlfriend would never betray me, ’cause we’d both be in trouble, but guys always brag about stuff.”

“Most guys in high school are idiots, but that’s not the real problem.

Society has a double standard. Guys who get laid are cool; girls who do it are sluts. That’s why guys’ll tell anyone who’ll listen, while girls only tell their closest friends.”

“You understand.”

“Yeah, I do, which is why I kept my mouth shut in high school. I figured out pretty quick that girls like sex as much as guys, but they have to be careful about their reputations. I also learned that girls who don’t have to worry about it—because their boyfriends aren’t blabbermouths—are a lot more likely to have sex with you. Repeatedly.”

“Mmm hmm. And that’s why I’m in bed with you.”

“Yep. Trust is a huge part of it. I mean, sure, I talk about my sex life with close friends, but that’s it. You’ll never hear me brag to a stranger about

something you and I do in private. It’s none of his damn business! And I don’t want you to feel bad for having the same urges guys do.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “That’s why I do things with you. And why I tell you things. I know you won’t use them against me to make me feel guilty.”

“Never.”

“Besides, you seem to enjoy it.” She squeezed my erection as proof.

“Yeah, I really like hearing about your past.”

“I can tell. You get super-hard every time I talk about a girl, or if I even mention giving head.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Most guys don’t like to hear about another guy. Not when we’re… you know. But you’re different. I used to think you didn’t care about me, but now I realize it’s ’cause you’re so darn self-confident. I mean, you don’t get jealous. So I like telling you stuff. It… turns me on too.” She stroked my hard-on while she considered her next words.

“I keep secrets mostly to keep you interested,” she admitted. “And ’cause I don’t want you to think I’m a tramp. Six guys may not seem like a lot to you, but it’s a lot to me. I grew up thinking it was only going to be one!”

I chuckled. “What do you think now?”

“Well, six doesn’t sound so bad, Mr. Thirty. And… I think maybe it’ll be seven if you have your way.”

“Seven? How?”

“You want me to do it with Trip too.”

“That scares you?”

“Of course it does! What kind of—? Never mind. You know what kind of girl I am.”

“What kind is that?”

“The kind who likes… all the things Sister Prune doesn’t.”

“Sister Prune lives in a fantasy world.”

“And we live in the real one. Yeah, I get it. And if I want to keep you happy, I have to do things with you.”

“You don’t have to,” I objected.

“Okay, so I want to. There, I said it. Are you happy?”

“Are you?”

She thought about it. “More than ever. Sometimes I feel guilty about what we’re doing, but then I think about Marianne. Or Sabrina. Or even my mom.

I mean, she’s the best woman I know. She’s a good Catholic—better than the rest of us, that’s for sure—but she doesn’t try to be perfect.

“And the more I think about it, the more I realize she’s known all along what I was doing with other girls. I think it bothered her, especially at first, but she saw how my dad was. Rich too, when he was home. They were so stupid and protective about me and guys. So my mom did what she always does. She worked behind the scenes and made sure I had… um…

friendships.”

“That’s what parents are supposed to do.”

“I know. But I guess it’s weird to think about my mom as a woman, one who knows about sex. I mean, she’s always been ‘Mom.’ You know?” She chuckled at a memory. “I used to think she’d only had sex six times, once for each of us. When I got older I realized how silly that was. And since I started dating you, I’ve been paying attention to how she and my dad are together.

They’re really affectionate.”

“My parents too.”

“Mmm hmm. I noticed that about them. They’re a lot more open about sex than mine are, but still… Lately I’ve noticed that my parents make little innuendos all the time! My mom especially. I think she lets me hear them on purpose, ’cause she knows what you and I are doing.”

“Your mom’s a cool lady.”

“She is. A lot more than I ever realized, especially now that I’m with you.” She squeezed my cock and nonchalantly licked a bead of pre-come.

“Mmm, I love getting you worked up.”

“Me too.”

“Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. You really opened my eyes about a lot of things. So I’m starting to see my mom in a new light. I mean, she knew about my girlfriends, and probably the guys too. I don’t think she knew how far I was going, but I’m sure she knew I was… experimenting.” She looked up at me. “And yes, I’m keeping the guys secret for now. I’ll tell you eventually, but when I’m ready. Okay?”

“Fair enough.”

“Although… I’m starting to figure out what your group secret is. I’m not naïve, you know. Not the innocent little Catholic girl you thought I was. You talk about orgies way too casually to be kidding. You’ve had one for real, haven’t you?”

“More than one. Does that bother you?”

“It should! But… no, it doesn’t. I’ve… done similar things. Hold on, more pre-come.” She licked it off and then sucked gently. “I think that got it.

For now. I’ll take care of you properly in a minute. But see? This is why I tell you stuff. You’re so cool about it, and he really likes it.”

“He does.”

“It’s also why I’m sure you’re The One. I don’t have to hide anything from you. Not that I could! Not for real, the way you see through me. But you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“I just have to tell you slowly, over time. I don’t want you to lose interest if I run out of stories. I guess I’m like Scheherazade. Only, I give blowjobs too. Speaking of which…” She wrapped her lips around my shaft and bobbed slowly. “Mmm, feels good in my mouth and it keeps you interested.”

“I’m interested even when you aren’t blowing me.”

“Which is why I love you.” She was about to say something else when she cocked an ear instead. “Listen.”

“What? I don’t hear anything.”

“I know. They’ve stopped.”

We heard the master bedroom door open. Then someone went downstairs and started the shower.

“Probably Wren,” I said.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Christy fell silent for a moment and then sat up and beamed at me. “Oh my gosh, it’s really gonna happen, isn’t it?”

“Mmm hmm. Are you excited?”

“And scared. Nervous. Excited. You said that already.”

“I did.”

“Oh, Paul, thank you!” She leaned forward and kissed me. “Thank you for being the best boyfriend in the whole world.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You know what would be even better? If you could make time go faster.”

“I can’t do that, but I can distract you.” I brandished my erection at her.

“What if Wren comes? While we’re in the middle?”

“We’ll deal with that when it happens. Right now, you need to finish what you started.”

“Yes, sir.”

I guided her head to my lap and she began bobbing on my cock. I

reminded myself not to chuckle as she completely lost track of time. I had to make a conscious effort not to come, though. Christy really enjoyed giving head, and her enthusiasm was a powerful turn-on.

Knock knock.

She sat up and looked at me with wide eyes.

“You ready?” I said softly.

She immediately moved to my side. Then she covered us with the sheet, although my hard-on made a tent.

“Good job,” I teased. “Wren’ll never know what we were up to.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” she whispered tensely. She reached under, grabbed my erection, and pinned it against my stomach.

The knock came again, softer.

“Come in,” I said.

Wren opened the door and peered around it. “Oh, thank God. I thought you were asleep. I saw the light, but…”

“No, we’re awake,” I said. “C’mon in.”

She stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her. She wore a towel around her and nothing else.

“Sorry about the way I look,” she said. “I should’ve fixed myself up, but

—”

“No, it’s okay,” Christy said. “You know I never cared about that.”

“Me neither.” I patted the bed beside me. “Join us?”

“Do you mind?” She wasn’t asking me.

“Not at all,” Christy said, ever polite. She stiffened as the sheet slipped and exposed her breasts.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Wren said as she slid onto the bed. She glanced at me. “Is it okay if I…?”

“Ask her.”

“Ask me wha—?”

Wren leaned across me and kissed her. Christy squeaked in surprise but then sighed, so Wren crawled over me and pushed her back on the bed. I caught her towel on the way by. She didn’t stop kissing Christy, but she twisted so I could tug it loose. I tossed it to the floor and scooted aside to watch.

“Mmm,” Wren said to Christy. “I know what you’ve been doing. I can taste him on you.”

“My secret’s out,” Christy said. She sighed as Wren kissed her neck and

chest.

Wren moved lower and locked her lips around Christy’s nipple. She switched to the other nipple and circled it with her tongue. After a minute she planted a line of kisses down her stomach before she pushed her legs apart and lay between them.

Christy looked at me calmly. Then she smiled and let her eyelids droop closed as Wren licked her. She was so worked up that I thought she’d come quickly, but Wren knew what she was doing. They’d been lovers since before I’d met them, so they knew each other’s bodies well. Still, Wren took her time and reacquainted herself with Christy’s pussy.

I was half-tempted to straddle Wren’s thighs and slide my cock into her, but I didn’t think Christy was ready for that kind of threesome. She must have sensed my thoughts, though, because she opened her eyes and looked at me again. Then she pulled my hand to her lips and began sucking my finger.

“Mmm, feels good in my mouth. But I need something bigger.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“I heard that,” Wren said, her voice muffled.

Christy frowned and looked a question at me.

“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

She nodded and glanced at my hard-on. “Are you going to make me beg?”

I leapt to my knees and scooted toward her. Her lips closed over the head of my cock and she swirled her tongue around it. I twisted her nipple, and she moaned as she began sucking in earnest.

I let her enjoy herself for a minute or two before I cupped the back of her head and forced more of my cock into her mouth. She whimpered when the glans entered her throat, and her nipples strained toward the ceiling as she arched her back.

Wren began fingering her and licking her clit at the same time. Christy’s chest and neck flushed with arousal, and her breathing grew shallow as her climax approached. All of a sudden she stiffened and clutched the sheets, although she didn’t release my dick.

Her orgasm seemed to last forever, until she finally let out her breath through her nose. Her nostrils flared as she breathed hard. Wren planted a few gentle kisses and then looked up at me.

“Did you come?”

“No.”

“She’s ready. For you to fuck her.”

Christy stopped nursing and looked up at me with panicky eyes.

“Relax,” I chuckled, “I’m not going to.”

“Why not?” Wren said. “She’s ready.”

“She isn’t,” I said calmly. “But she’ll let me know when she is.”

Christy swallowed hard and nodded.

“But—”

“Wren, chill out. We’ll do it when we’re ready.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said sullenly. “I guess I want it more than she does.”

“She wants it a lot, but she’s scared.”

“Scared of what? Never mind. Hold on.” She climbed over Christy’s hip and lay next to her.

Christy glanced up at me.

“I’m fine,” I said. “You know me, always up for a conversation in the middle of sex.” I slid down and propped myself on one elbow.

Christy rolled her eyes but turned toward Wren. Her whole body relaxed when I scooted behind her and rested a hand on her hip. Then she sighed as I slid my hard-on between her thighs. I could’ve entered her easily, but she trusted me not to.

“What’re you waiting for?” Wren asked her. “I know you want to.”

“Wren… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready!” Christy cut her off when she started to say something else. “Wren, please. I don’t wanna fight about this. Not now. Okay?”

Wren’s expression softened immediately. “You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just… want things to move faster.”

“I know. You’ve never been patient. But you can’t rush me on this.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

“Of course. You know I can’t stay mad at you.”

“Thank God for that,” Wren said. “I’ve given you enough reasons lately.”

“No, you’ve been wonderful.”

I spoke up and said, “We wouldn’t be together without you. You drive us crazy sometimes, but we know you mean well.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“We are happy,” Christy said. “But you need to let us do things at our own pace. You can’t make decisions for us.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You can keep loving us, though.”

Wren’s expression froze.

“Mmm hmm,” Christy said. “I know how you feel. And you need to start telling me the truth. You and Paul aren’t ‘just friends.’”

Wren shot me an accusatory glare.

“Oh, please,” Christy said, “I’m not blind. I see how you are together. I know you better than anyone, remember?” She took a deep breath, and I felt her muster her courage. “I know about last summer too.”

“What about it?” Wren said cautiously.

“About you and Paul… and Trip. Together. At the nudist camp. I figured most of it out, but Paul told me the rest.” She paused and then continued, “I also know what you want me to do with Trip.”

“You told her?” Wren said to me.

“Not all of it. I confirmed a lot, though. Not everything because she isn’t ready, but we’re giving her plenty of clues just talking about it now. I don’t think you realize how much she figures out on her own.”

As if to confirm it, Christy said, “You want an orgy.”

“We do,” Wren said, although she quickly added, “but only when you’re ready.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that,” Christy admitted, “but thank you for being honest with me.”

“I don’t mean to lie to you, but…” She looked at me briefly.

“I know you’re working together too,” Christy said.

“Not exactly together,” I hedged. “We just want the same thing.”

“For you to be happy,” Wren added.

“With both of us.”

“Anyone else you want me to be happy with?” Christy said, half-sarcastic, half-serious.

“Just us. For now.”

“For now,” Wren agreed. “We’ll add more people later.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s what I’m afraid of!”

Wren grinned at me. “Don’t you love how she acts all pure and innocent?”

“I am all pure and innocent,” Christy squawked. “I’m not like you two.

You’re… depraved.”

“Says the girl who just had her first guy-girl threesome,” I said dryly.

Wren arched an eyebrow at her.

“Okay,” Christy admitted, “maybe I’m depraved too. But only ’cause you made me that way. I was pure and innocent before I met you.”

“Pure and innocent,” I mocked.

She glared back at me. “You know, sometimes I really don’t like you.”

“Don’t worry,” Wren said, “I’ll protect you from the mean man.”

“Oh, no, I’m not falling for that. You’re as bad as he is.”

“I am not!”

“Are too,” I said. “And speaking of which… Any chance this mean man can get his dick sucked?”

“Mmm, yes, please,” Christy said.

“I was talking to Wren,” I chuckled. “You go down on her while she sucks me.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“If it’s okay with you,” I finished. Then I asked Wren, “What do you say?

Are you up for it? I’ll come on your tits.”

“Oh, my,” Christy said, “he thinks it’s a good idea too.”

Wren laughed. “I love how she talks about your dick like it’s a real person.”

“He is a real person,” Christy said. “He talks to Paul all the time. Tells him what to do, even. Like now.”

“He’s simple like that,” Wren mocked.

“No, he’s really very complicated.”

“Oh he is, is he?”

“Mmm hmm. We have long conversations all the time.”

“I bet you do.”

“We do. He tells me all sorts of things. For instance, his favorite color is red.”

“Not pink?”

“No, Miss Dirty Mind. It’s red. And he’s partial to brunettes, which is kind of strange, seeing as how I’m blonde. He doesn’t like pubic hair, though, of any color. He’s very happy without his own, as a matter of fact.

Handsome, too.”

Wren arched an eyebrow in amusement, and I could see her wondering how far Christy was going to take it.

“He’s very tidy,” she continued. “He doesn’t make a mess unless I want him to. He likes to spend time in warm, wet places. I used to think he wasn’t picky, but now I realize he is. Very.”

“We’re still talking about Paul’s dick, aren’t we?”

“His penis, yes. He likes his proper name, although sometimes I call him Mr. Big. He especially likes that. I have plans to call him Mr. Good Thing, but I’m not sure when.”

I waited for Wren to figure it out and then explained when she didn’t.

“Good things come in small packages.”

“And she’s the ‘small package.’ Ah, okay.” She laughed. “She’s always been goofy about dicks. Excuse me, penises. Has she shown you her sketchbook yet?”

Christy froze.

“No,” I said. “And I haven’t mentioned it either. But we’ll probably talk about it when we get home.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Christy lied.

“Right,” I deadpanned. Then I kissed her ear and said softly, “We’re going to have lots of discussions about penises. Peter’s, Simon’s, and the other three. Plus all the rest in your sketchbook.”

“A-all the rest?”

“Mmm hmm. But mostly mine. Long conversations.”

She swallowed hard.

“Right now, though, Wren needs to say a few words to Mr. Big.”

“Only if it’s all right with her,” Wren said.

“If I had to guess,” I told her, “she’s scared and excited. Scared because she’s never shared her boyfriend, but excited because she likes to watch.”

“You know me so well,” Christy said in a small voice.

“We do, my love.” Wren leaned forward and kissed her. “Now, do you mind if I suck your boyfriend’s dick?”

“I… don’t mind.”

“And will you eat my pussy?”

“Mmm, yes, please.”

I patted Christy’s hip. “Come on, Little Bit. Let her slide to the middle.

She can prop her head up and you can get between her legs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wren slid into position and pulled Christy down for a kiss. “I love you.”

Christy shot me a nervous glance before she said, “I love you too.”

“For a while I thought I’d lost you,” Wren said.

“No. I didn’t like you for a while. That’s all. I still love you.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Christy said.

They kissed, tenderly at first, but with growing passion.

“Oh my God,” Wren said after, “you don’t know how much I’ve missed this, just feeling your body against mine.”

“Mmm, me too,” Christy said. “And I’ve missed these.” She cupped Wren’s breasts and captured a nipple. She sucked hard and released it with a little pop. Wren squirmed as she did the same to the other.

I sat back on my heels and jerked off slowly. The two girls were enjoying themselves in their own little world and I didn’t want to intrude.

Christy licked and sucked Wren’s nipples for a long time before she moved between her legs. She spread her pussy and teased her clit, and Wren moaned deep in her throat. Then Christy slid a hand between her own legs and started playing with herself. My imagination went into overdrive as I wondered what it would be like to fuck her from behind.

Good things come to those who wait, I reminded myself.

Oh, yeah? my penis said. Well, this “good thing” wants to come.

Preferably inside someone. Christy, Wren, the sunglasses girl, I don’t care.

You’re supposed to be picky, remember?

I just want some pussy! Is that too much to ask?

All in good time, my friend.

Some friend you are, he grumbled.

You want a hand or not? I shot back.

Fine. Gimme the hand.

I suppressed a chuckle and started stroking again. I wanted to hold off until Wren was ready to come, so I tried to pace myself. I was so preoccupied that I almost missed it. Christy did something and Wren went from simmer to boil in about fifteen seconds.

I moved toward Wren and stroked furiously. She cried out in surprise when the first blast of semen hit her nipple. It left a pearly trail down her breast and into the valley between them. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to congratulate myself on my aim. I spurted again, thicker and stronger than the first. I swayed from the intensity of it and gave up trying to aim the rest.

I barely finished shooting before Wren arched her back and groaned. Her whole body strained as the orgasm held her in its grip, until she finally fell back and panted from the force of it.

Christy crawled forward and stretched toward me. She captured the tip of my cock and sucked out the last trickle of semen. Then she returned her

attention to Wren. She held her hair out of the way and began licking up the drops. Wren’s breathing had almost returned to normal by the time Christy finished, but instead of stopping, she knelt between her legs again.

Wren ran her fingers through Christy’s hair and closed her eyes. I sat back and watched Christy bring her to the point of orgasm twice before she let her cool down. Wren gasped and shuddered when she did it the third time.

Each had been a mini-climax, the prelude to a volcanic eruption that was coming.

The fourth time did it for her, and Christy didn’t stop when Wren reached the point of no return. She arched her back with pleasure so intense that she didn’t even cry out. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream that made the tendons in her neck stand out. After half a minute she finally went limp, and her chest heaved as she caught her breath.

Christy crawled from between Wren’s thighs and flopped to the bed between us. Her skin was flushed from arousal and covered with a thin sheen of sweat, in spite of the cool air. I walked my fingers up her stomach and teased one of her dark nipples. She smiled up at me, languid and content.

Wren was still catching her breath, but she laced her fingers through Christy’s and squeezed. “What time is it?” she finally asked.

“Almost midnight,” I said.

“Yeah, I’d better go.”

Christy nodded and rolled toward her. They kissed several times, soft and affectionate.

“I think I missed this the most,” Wren said.

“Me too.”

“And if I have to share you with someone, at least it’s Paul. It took you long enough to figure it out, though. You’re a stubborn thing.”

“How was I supposed to know I’d found the two people in the world who want to share me?”

Wren rolled her eyes but gave her a forgiving smile. Then she glanced at me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, not just for tonight. For Trip, for Christy, for camp, for everything.”

“Ah. In that case, you’re very welcome. But really, it’s my pleasure.”

“It is his pleasure,” Christy said. “I make sure of it.”

“I bet you do. And I can’t wait till you’re ready for everything.”

“It’ll happen. And if you’re really nice to me, I might let you have him

after.”

Wren laughed and sat up. “I can wait.”

Christy and I shared a doubtful look.

“I can! God, you two are just alike.” She rolled her eyes but wasn’t really upset. “Now I really should go. Thank you for a wonderful evening, my love.”

“No, thank you.”

“You too,” she said to me. “Next time I’ll take care of you better.”

“Christy takes good care of me, don’t worry.”

“I do,” she said cheerfully. “It’s all I do, morning, noon, and night.”

Wren laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Then she grinned at me.

“Told you she isn’t a goody-goody.”

“I know. You were right all along,” I said in a practiced monotone. “I should’ve listened. I was an idiot.”

“Okay. As long as you admit it.” She picked up her towel and sighed. “I hate to leave, but…”

“It’s okay,” Christy said. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning.” She blew a kiss and closed the door behind her.

Christy turned toward me and wormed her way into my arms with a squeak of contentment. “Thank you.”

“You’re very, very welcome.”

“Of course, now I’m—”

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Then let’s get you something to eat. And afterward, I have a sleeping draft for you.”

“White and creamy? My favorite kind.”

We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves on the slopes the next day. We stayed till the lifts closed and then hiked back to the cabin in a good mood. We were all tired from skiing all day, but we didn’t let that stop us. After dinner and a soak in the hot tub—with less alcohol than the night before but just as much innuendo—we showered and dressed for the New Year’s Eve party.

None of us had brought dressy clothes, but the village was so laid-back that we didn’t think we’d stand out. Sure enough, the party at the resort lodge was full of people in jeans and sweaters, although a few wore suits and party dresses. Trip led the way to the bar, where he gave them his credit card and opened a tab.

“Drinks are on me,” he told us over the music.

Wren looked stunned, but she recovered quickly and gave him a kiss.

“Hey, why have money if I can’t spend it on my friends?”

So we drank and partied and rang in the new year in style. We watched Dick Clark on a big projection TV, sang Auld Lang Syne, and returned to the cabin in the wee hours of the morning. We were all drunk and horny, so we went straight to our rooms.

Christy wasn’t in the mood for sleep and neither was I, especially after dancing and flirting all evening. I was so drunk that I probably would’ve agreed to just about anything, but she wasn’t as far gone as I was—her metabolism again.

She was in the mood for her favorite pastime anyway. She sucked me off once and then spent a long time enjoying herself and getting me worked up for a massive explosion the second time. I returned the favor by licking, sucking, and biting her nipples till she couldn’t stand it anymore. Then I moved between her legs and did the same to her pussy.

We finally went to sleep around five in the morning, although she woke me before ten. I thought it was an indecent hour, especially for a Sunday after a big party, never mind that we were on vacation too.

“I want to ask a favor,” she said. “But I want you to promise me something first.”

“Can I go back to sleep after?” I mumbled.

“Maybe. This is serious. You have to promise.”

I heard something in her voice, so I made an effort to wake up. She was sitting on her knees beside me, fidgeting nervously. I pushed myself up in bed and leaned against the headboard, which was cold enough to make me wince. On top of that, my head felt full of cotton and my mouth was painfully dry. At least my stomach wasn’t doing the Electric Slide. That was something.

“Okay,” I said at last. “What’re you talking about?”

“Promise you won’t get upset. At least try not to.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” She drew a breath and squared her shoulders. “Okay, here goes. I want to go to Mass today.”

I blinked and rubbed sleep from my eyes and waited. Then I realized she wasn’t going to say anything else. “Is that it?”

“What do you mean, ‘is that it?’ That’s a big it!”

“You want to go to Mass. Is that all?”

“There’s a beautiful little church right down the road,” she said in a rush.

“Queen of the Snows. It’s always so peaceful there. And… I want to go to Mass. I won’t go to confession or anything, but I want to take Communion.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So… why would I get upset at that?”

“Remember last time…?”

“Of course I remember. I was a jerk and made a bunch of assumptions.”

“You did, but… maybe you had good reason. I ran away ’cause I was scared and felt guilty.”

“You aren’t scared now, are you? Or guilty? And you aren’t running away?”

“I just want to go to Mass. I’ve been so happy with you lately that… I guess I want to share it. I’m not going to tell the priest or anything,” she added quickly, “but… I always feel so close to God when I’m in church. I know you’re not very religious, and I really try not to dwell on it when I’m with you, but God’s always been an important part of my life. Now you’re an important part too, and I guess I want Him to know how happy I am.” She folded her hands and stared down at them. “I should probably shut up now.

I’m chattering.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Can I go? Please? I won’t turn into Sister Prune or anything, I swear.”

I chuckled and reached out to her. She came willingly and lay beside me.

Her body was soft and warm, but I could feel her tension.

“Relax,” I said. “Of course you can go to Mass. You don’t need to ask.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Thank you. I was worried you’d say no.”

“Why would I do that? Wait a minute— What if I had said no?”

“I… wouldn’t’ve gone.”

I snorted. “That’s silly.”

“I know you think so, but… I meant what I said to Wren the other day, you are my master. Not like a slave or anything, but I’ll do what you say.”

I tried to decide how to put my thoughts into words. “I want you to be your own person,” I said eventually. “I want you to do what makes you happy. You don’t need my permission. And if going to Mass makes you happy, go to Mass. I guess I only have a problem if you choose church over me.”

“Never. But… I don’t know how to explain it. I think God brought you into my life for a reason. He nourishes my soul, but He knows I need someone to nourish my mind and body too.”

“And that’s where I come in?”

“Of course. He knows what He’s doing.”

“You really believe that, don’t you? That God is directing your life?”

“No, of course not. He gave us free will, so we make our own decisions.

But on some level, I think He is guiding me.”

“Did He guide you into bed with me?”

“Don’t be crass. But since you asked, Mr. Doubting Thomas, I believe He did. He knew I was missing something in my life.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Thank you.” She kissed my chest and breathed a deep sigh.

We lay together in companionable silence and listened to the sounds of the house as it warmed in the morning sun.

“How’s your head?” she said after a minute.

“The big one or the little one?”

“Both.”

“The big one is hungover. The little one is hoping for some attention.”

“Isn’t he always?”

“Hungover? No, only when I drink too much.”

She laughed and swatted playfully. “No, I mean the little head. Isn’t he always hoping for attention?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On how you feel about a blowjob before Mass.”

“I think God’s probably okay with it,” she said, only half facetious. She reached under the sheet and found my penis. “Besides, my body will always need nourishment.”

I started to say something stupid like “It’s God’s will,” but then thought better of it. Christy was serious about her faith, and I shouldn’t mock her for it. I didn’t think about God very often, but if He made her happy, that was

good enough for me.

Trip and Wren headed to the slopes before Christy returned from church.

They were still a little hungover, but they wanted to get the most out of their lift tickets.

“Have fun,” I said as they left. “We’ll join you after lunch.”

I sat next to the wood-burning stove and took out my pocket sketchbook.

I designed A-frame houses for the next hour, mostly for fun. I was putting the finishing touches on one when I heard the door open. Christy danced in, apple-cheeked and sporting a sunshine smile.

“Are we the only ones here?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I told her about Trip and Wren and plans to meet them.

“How long do we have?”

“Not long. Why?”

“Then we’d better hurry.”

“Hurry? Wh—?”

She sank to her knees and reached for my fly.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, although it was obvious.

“Can’t talk now. Need to suck.” She went straight to work and finished me off in about five minutes. “Oh my gosh,” she said as she sat back to catch her breath. “I’ve been thinking about that all morning.”

“Even during Mass?”

“I know, right! I felt so guilty at first. But then I decided it was a test.”

“Um… did you pass?”

“I stayed till the end of the service. Then I rushed back and… um…

nourished my body.” She sighed and rested her head on my thigh. “Oh, Paul, I love you so much right now.”

“I love you too. Care to prove it again?”

“A blowjob doesn’t prove I love you,” she said with exaggerated patience. “It’s an expression of my love.”

“Okay. Care to express it again?”

“I’d love to.”

We ate a simple dinner that evening and finished off the wine. Afterward, we soaked in the hot tub and polished off the whiskey as well. We were all fairly drunk by then, so we didn’t even open the champagne. We decided to leave it as a thank-you gift for the cabin’s owner instead.

The next morning we cleaned up, drained the hot tub, and packed our things. Christy and I had to fly to San Diego, while Trip and Wren had a much longer trip, from Reno to Denver and then on to Nashville. They drove us to the airport in Truckee, but they couldn’t hang around to see us off. They needed to get to Reno in time to return the rental car, so we said goodbye and wished them a safe trip.

The day was windy and bitterly cold, but the skies were clear, with unlimited ceiling and visibility. Christy made a call to her parents while I stowed the luggage and preflighted the plane. Our flight to San Diego was routine, and her mother met us at the FBO there.

“Harold went to the office today,” she explained. “He was restless and wanted to get a head start on the new year.”

“No problem,” I said as we headed toward the parking lot.

Anne drove a Mercedes convertible, and I took one look at it and knew the skis weren’t going to fit in the trunk.

“Oh, dear,” she said, “I should’ve let Harold take my car.”

“It’s okay. We’ll make it work.” I tried every angle I could, but we eventually decided to put the top down and angle the skis across the back seat.

“We’re going to be chilly driving home,” Anne warned.

“Nah. It’ll be fun.”

She brightened with a sunny smile, a more mature version of Christy’s.

“Christine said you’d remind us of Laurence.”

“I hope that isn’t a bad thing.”

“Of course not, dear. He was such a happy young man, always positive.”

Christy beamed at me.

Anne slid behind the wheel, and I climbed into the passenger seat. Christy sat on my lap and pulled her warm headband into place. We drove to La Jolla with the heat on full blast and oblivious to the curious looks from other drivers.

“That was fun!” Anne said as we pulled into the garage. Her cheeks were pink and her hair frizzy where it peeked from under her scarf, but she looked exhilarated. “Who’s ready to do it again?”

“Maybe later,” I laughed. I patted Christy’s bottom and opened the car door.

“Hey, Mom,” she said as she climbed out, “do you mind if we—?”

“Make a snack? Of course. Paul, dear, will you bring the luggage?”

“My pleasure.” I smiled to myself as the bird-sized women headed inside to feed their bird-sized appetites. (Did you know that birds eat more than fifteen percent of their body weight every day? That’s astounding. An average human would need to eat twenty pounds of food to accomplish the same thing. You’d know that if you ever teased your girlfriend during a midnight snack. I digress, but I sort of had it coming.) I unloaded the ski bags and leaned them against the garage wall. Then I made two trips and hauled our suitcases and other bags inside. I took Christy’s to her bedroom and mine to the guest room. When I returned to the kitchen, Christy stood on tiptoe and gave me a kiss along with a mug of hot cocoa. I casually put my arm around her and soaked up her warmth as well.

Anne’s dark blue eyes smiled as she watched us, and I wondered how much she knew about our relationship. Probably enough, I decided. She must have read my mind, because she gave me a little smile of approval. She didn’t need to be Christy’s mother to see how happy she was.

Harold came home a couple of hours later, and Anne and Christy greeted him at the door. He kissed his wife, gave his daughter a hug, and then shook my hand.

“Glad you made it home safe,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Son, you’re going to get me in trouble if you keep that up. Just Harold.”

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s the uniform.”

“You could wear one yourself,” he said. “Birdy loves a man in uniform.”

“I love you in uniform,” she corrected. “Paul looks better in a suit.”

“There she goes again, thinking for herself,” I said.

Anne covered a smile, but Christy shot me a glare before she realized I was kidding.

Harold laughed. “She’s too much like her mother.”

“And that’s a bad thing because…?” Anne asked sweetly.

“Oh, no! It’s a good thing. Very good.”

She rolled her eyes and took his coat, which she folded and automatically passed to Christy. She stopped in surprise when she realized what she’d done.

“It’s good to have you home, Birdy,” her father said. “I knew you’d

eventually grow up and fly the nest, but I didn’t think it’d be so quick.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll always be your little girl.”

“Maybe in my heart,” he said, “but you’re a young woman now. I might even get used to the fact that you have a young man in your life.” He smiled at me, but I detected a hint of calculation. “Speaking of which,” he continued,

“would you like to join me for a drink, Paul, after I change into something more comfortable?”

Anne quirked an eyebrow and silently asked if I wanted to be rescued or not, at which point I realized that Harold was going to interrogate me about the sleeping arrangements at the cabin. Lucky for me, I was one step ahead of him—I’d rehearsed my story during the flight from Tahoe. I did my best not to smile, but he’d been reading people’s expressions longer than I’d been alive.

“You and your strange sense of humor,” he said with an amused snort.

“Sorry. I can’t help it.”

“Maybe you’re right to avoid the military. That smirk alone could get you court-martialed.”

“Oh, Dad, be nice,” Christy said. “I happen to like his smirk.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” But he gave me a nod, if not of approval, then at least of acceptance. “I’ll meet you in my office.”

“I’ll pour the whiskey.”

“Now, you see that?” he said to his wife and daughter. “That’s the way this should work.”

I survived the inquest at the admiral’s mast. Harold was surprisingly smooth about it. I’d expected a frontal assault, but we mostly talked about the cabin itself and the towns around the lake. Still, he must’ve been satisfied, because he poured more whiskey and we chatted until Anne called us to dinner. We ate in the kitchen and continued the conversation about Lake Tahoe.

“We’re thinking of buying a house in the area,” Harold said. “Squaw Valley or Northstar, or maybe something on the south side of the lake.”

“It’s a beautiful area,” I agreed.

“We like the skiing, but it’s nice in the summer, too.” He glanced at his wife. “We’re thinking of staying in San Diego when I retire. And it’d be nice

to have a place up north to get away from the city.”

“We want something big enough that family can visit or use it when we aren’t there,” Anne added. She smiled at her husband, and I had the distinct impression that she’d just told him to add me to the list of “family.”

His expression didn’t give anything away, but he grunted agreement.

After dessert we moved to the living room for drinks. I couldn’t find a polite way to add water to mine, so I sipped as slowly as I could. Christy helped me out, but I was still fairly drunk by the time we went to bed. As far as I could tell, Harold’s plan was to keep refilling my drink until I was too tanked to even think about sleeping with his daughter. Then again, maybe he just owned stock in a whiskey company. Whatever it was, he got exactly what he wanted.

I woke up early and with a miserable hangover, so I decided to go for a run to burn the remaining alcohol out of my system. Harold was eating breakfast when I returned. He took one look at me and chuckled evilly. Anne stood and asked what I wanted to eat.

“Just some orange juice, please. My stomach’s still trying to decide if it wants to play nice or not.”

She set a glass in front of me and gave me a sympathetic smile. Christy joined us a few minutes later. She wore her red flannel pajamas but sported normal slippers instead of her usual bunnies, which were back home in Knoxville. She kissed my cheek and then her father’s. I had the presence of mind to look guilty, which earned a snort.

“Don’t apologize, son.”

“Yes, sir. Harold. Sorry. It’s the uniform, I swear.”

“You know who to call if you want to ‘sir’ me for real.” Anne began humming at the stove, and he took the hint. “Or you can stay a civilian and keep Birdy happy.”

A few minutes later Anne set a mushroom and cheese omelet in front of Christy and an identical plate in front of me. She added pieces of toast with a smile. Then she topped off my orange juice and sat down.

“Aren’t you eating?” I asked.

“I already have.”

“I don’t think I can eat the omelet. Thank you very much, but…” I patted my stomach and winced for effect. “Shame to let it go to waste, though. Are you ready for second breakfast?”

She gave me a curious look.

“He thinks we’re hobbits,” Christy explained. “They’re short and eat a lot.”

“That sounds like you all right,” her father said. He glanced at me. “The two of them eat more than the rest of us combined.”

“You’re just jealous,” his wife said.

“Darn right I am.” He winked at me and then hid a grin behind the newspaper.

“Here,” I said to Anne as I slid my plate in front of her. “Enjoy. I’ll just filch the toast, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, dear. Thank you.”

After we finished eating, Harold stood to leave for work. He smiled and thanked me for the excuse to drive Anne’s car.

“Um… my pleasure?”

“No, mine,” he said. “The Cadillac’s too respectable. It’s an admiral’s car.”

“And the Mercedes is a fighter pilot’s?”

“Close enough. It isn’t a Porsche, but she wouldn’t let me buy her one of those.”

“You can buy whatever you like when you retire. Until then, you’re keeping the Cadillac.”

“Yes, dear,” he said with just enough contrition to excuse a roguish grin.

She shot him a look that I knew well from her daughter. It combined equal parts affection and exasperation.

“It was nice to see you again, Paul,” he said, all business. “Look after Birdy.”

“I will… Harold.”

“He does that so well,” Anne said.

“He does,” Harold agreed.

“I thought I’d practice,” I said. “I might be doing it for a while.”

Christy gave me a heart-stopping smile, which her parents didn’t miss.

Anne covered a much more subdued smile, while Harold simply grunted.

“We’ll see,” he said. He gave her a hug. “Goodbye, Birdy. Have a safe trip. We love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

He kissed his wife and then shook my hand. “Have a safe trip. Come visit us for spring break.”

My eyebrows shot up.

He chuckled and winked at me. “Politics and war. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Oh, Harold,” his wife said, “be nice.”

“Yes, dear.” He gave me an “I’ve got my eye on you” squint.

“Roger that,” I said.

Then he took his coat from Christy and left with a jaunty step and a self-satisfied smile.

Our flight to Atlanta was canceled because of mechanical problems. We returned to the ticket counter only to discover a long line of people ahead of us. A brusque businessman told us that a connecting flight to Dallas had been canceled as well. The overwhelmed ticket agents were doing their best to reroute hundreds of disgruntled passengers.

Christy and I stood in line with everyone else, and I debated whether or not to show my company ID. We had full-fare tickets, but sometimes being an employee’s family had benefits. I made up my mind when it was our turn and the agent couldn’t find any connections that would get us to Atlanta before the millennium.

I leaned over the desk and pitched my voice low. “Would it help if I show you this?”

The agent looked at my dependent ID, pursed his lips, and sighed. He’d had a frustrating morning and was trying to decide how I could make it worse.

“I don’t wanna cause trouble,” I explained quickly.

He studied me in silence.

“Revenue, standby, or interline,” I added. “Whatever makes your life easiest.”

He relaxed and nodded. Then he started tapping keys. “Do you mind flying to San Francisco first?”

“Not at all. Like I said, whatever’s easiest for you.”

“I have a connection through LAX on Western. You’ll have a layover in San Fran, but I can get you home from there.”

“Let’s do it.”

He nodded and went to work.

“Thanks for helping us,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for making my life easier,” he added without looking up. Then he glanced at Christy. He typed some more and frowned.

“Problem?”

“I can get you on an interline ticket, but I can’t do the same for Miss Carmichael.”

I looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “Do you mind a bit of creative ticketing?”

“Such as…?”

“Use my sister’s ID.” I gave him the number—it was one digit off from mine—and he entered it in the system.

“That works,” he said. “Miss Carmichael, you’re now Miss Hughes.” He paged through the screens and entered information. “There,” he said at last.

“You’re all set. I even upgraded you to first class on the company flight from SFO to ATL.”

“Wow, thanks! We owe you.”

He printed the tickets and handed them over. “Have a nice flight.”

I touched my brow in a salute, and we moved away from the counter.

Christy beamed. “You were awesome.”

“Thanks. Now…” I grinned. “Do you want me to call you Erin, Sis, or Miss Hughes?”

She rolled her eyes. “None of the above?”

“Right! Sis it is. C’mon, Sis, let’s find our gate.”

We tried to call Sara when we changed planes at LAX, but we never got an answer. We tried again when we arrived in San Francisco. The line was busy, which was a good sign, but a different woman answered when I called a few minutes later.

“Hey,” I said, “who’s this?”

“Daphne. Who’s this?”

“Hey, Daphne! It’s Paul.”

“Paul…? Paul who?”

“Hughes. From Knoxville.”

“Knoxville? You sound like you’re in the next room.”

“We sort of are.” I explained about our layover.

“Oh. Okay. But… who’s ‘we’?”

“Sorry, I’m with Christy. You probably don’t remember her. Petite, blonde, bright blue eyes. She’s an artist.”

“Oh, her. Yeah, I remember her. She told people about Sara and me. She was nice to me after, though. She’s your girlfriend now?”

“Yeah. For about a month.” So much had happened that it seemed like longer, but we’d only been together—officially, at least—since Thanksgiving.

“She’s pretty,” Daphne said. “You should be happy with her.”

“I think so too. She’s… amazing.”

Christy herself blushed.

“Anyway,” I said to Daphne, “we were hoping to get together with Sara.

And you, of course.”

She fell silent, and I could imagine her trying to come up with an excuse.

“Sara isn’t here,” she said at last. “She’s working today. And… um… now maybe isn’t the best time.”

I heard something in her voice, and Christy’s hopeful expression fell as she read my own disappointment.

“You broke up?” I said to Daphne.

“Yeah. Did Sara tell you?”

“No, but we talked about it before the holidays.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. For both of you. But you’ll survive. And… she told me about Austin.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She wants you to be happy. So do I, for that matter.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say thank you. You deserve to be happy. As long as Austin treats you right.”

“He does.”

“Good. Don’t stick around if he doesn’t. Just tell Sara or me and we’ll kick his ass.”

She laughed, but I could imagine her sad smile.

“I mean it,” I said.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“I know. Okay, let’s talk about Sara. D’you know when she’ll be back?”

“No, sorry. She’s doing something for her gallery friend. She said I could come by while she was out and… pick up the rest of my things.”

“Ah, okay. I understand. Do you mind leaving her a note?”

“Not at all.”

“Tell her we’re sorry we missed her. Our flight to San Francisco was a last-minute thing. We’ll be here for another couple of hours, but—”

“Slow down. I can’t write that fast.”

“Sorry. Just tell her we love her and we’ll call when we get home to Knoxville.”

“Okay. And… thanks.”

“For what?”

“For caring. Sara needs a friend like you, a guy she can trust.”

“I know. You can trust me too. You know that, right? If you ever need anything—and I mean anything—just ask. Things didn’t work out between us, but I’ll always care about you.”

“Thanks, Paul. That means a lot.”

The silence threatened to draw out, so I said, “Hey, it was good talking to you.”

“It was good talking to you too.”

“And I hope you’re happy with Austin. You deserve a guy who treats you right.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, I’d better let you go. Take care, Daphne.”

“You too, Paul. I’ll leave the note for Sara. Sorry you missed her.”

“That’s all right. Like I said, it was a last-minute thing.”

“Okay. Well… goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” I hung up and sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Christy asked.

I thought about it for a long moment. “I don’t know if I can explain. I just… want her to be happy.”

“Daphne?”

“Yeah. The world really screwed her over, but instead of becoming stronger, like Sara, she built walls to protect herself and then retreated behind them.”

“I know what you mean.”

“And I’d like to find all the guys who did this to her and beat the shit out of them.”

“Now you sound like Rich.”

I shot her a rueful look. “He and I are more alike than I wanna admit.”

“I think you are. And that’s another reason I’m attracted to you.”

My eyebrows twitched toward the ceiling.

“You’re like all my brothers rolled into one: ambitious like Harry, smart like James, funny like Danny, protective like Rich, and happy like Laurie.

But…” Her blue eyes flashed. “I can do things with you.”

“Naughty things?”

“Very naughty.”

We arrived in Atlanta a little before midnight. It was only nine o’clock as far as our bodies were concerned, but we’d been traveling all day. And we still had a three-hour drive before we reached Knoxville and our own beds.

“Back to the real world,” Christy said as we hauled our luggage and skis out to long-term parking.

“Yep, no more skiing and hot tubs.”

“No more other things either.”

I glanced at her sideways. “Oh? Are you breaking up with me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good. ’Cause I was hoping for some ‘other things’ in the car.”

She rolled her eyes but then looked startled. “Oh my gosh, you’re serious!”

“Darn straight. It’s been more than thirty-six hours.”

“Haven’t you…?”

“Are you kidding?” I set down the suitcases and opened the Cruiser’s tailgate. “I jerked off this morning in the shower. You?”

“If you must know… in bed.”

I began tossing our bags into the back. “Last night or this morning?”

“Um… both.”

“I thought you were a little too relaxed at breakfast,” I laughed.

“For your information, I normally don’t discuss my personal habits with strange men.”

“But you’ll make an exception for me?”

“Maybe. It depends.”

I closed the tailgate and unlocked the passenger door. Then I walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. Christy took off her coat and gloves, while I waited for the engine to warm up a little before I turned the heater to high.

“Depends on what?” I said. “I mean, I have a vested interest in your happiness. I need to know these things.”

She scoffed. “You need to know when I… you know?”

“Of course. If you aren’t doing it enough, I need to tease you more. If you’re doing it too much, I need to spend more time taking care of you. It’s a delicate balance,” I deadpanned.

“I shouldn’t be doing it at all.”

“That’s crap and you know it. Everyone masturbates.”

“Still, I feel guilty for doing it.”

“Why? You don’t feel guilty when we do things together.”

“That’s different. Men and woman are supposed to… uh… please each other.”

“Speaking of which…” I unzipped my pants and reached inside.

“What’re you doing? We’re in public!”

“We’re in a deserted parking lot in the middle of the night.” I extracted my manhood and waved it at her.

“I can’t. What if someone sees?”

“Who’s going to see? Besides, even if someone does, they’re only going to see me. You’ll be out of view. Come over here.” I put some steel in my voice. “Now.”

She jumped as if I’d pinched her. “Yes, sir.”

I guided her head into my lap and sighed as she began kissing my semi-hard cock. She forgot her objections once she took me in her mouth and began sucking, so I settled back to enjoy myself.

After a few minutes of mindless bliss, I pulled up her dress. She was wearing stockings and a garter belt over dark satin panties. She wore them because she enjoyed how they made her feel, and I wholeheartedly supported the idea.

I caressed her firm little butt through her panties. She moaned deep in her throat, so I gave her a light swat. I followed it with a firmer one, which prompted another moan. She flinched when I smacked her even harder, but she didn’t stop sucking.

I spanked her several more times before I pulled her panties aside and felt

the heat and moisture of her arousal. I slid a finger into her smooth pussy and began thrusting gently. She sucked even deeper and added a little tongue-swirl at the top of each stroke. I lasted about thirty seconds after that, and she moaned softly as I filled her mouth with come.

Once I could think again, I started finger-fucking her while she nursed my cock. She squirmed in pleasure until her own tension reached the breaking point. I slid my finger as deep as I could and twitched the tip against her inner spot. She stiffened and groaned with her own climax.

When her orgasm subsided, she lay there for a moment and caught her breath. She whimpered when I gently withdrew my finger and tugged her panties back into place. Then she rested her head on my thigh and gazed up at me with a sleepy-eyed smile.

I grinned. “You don’t mind doing it in public once you get going.”

“What did you expect? Besides, you know I can’t resist when you point your penis at me.” She rolled her eyes and sighed, although her expression clouded after a moment. Out of the blue she asked, “Are you happy?”

“Am I what?”

“Happy. Are you happy, just doing this? Blowjobs and stuff, I mean.”

“Of course,” I said automatically. Then I thought about it. “Yeah, sure, I’d like to go all the way, but only when you’re ready.”

“Wren thinks I’m being silly.”

“What do you think?”

“I sort of agree with her,” she admitted. “About the physical part, at least.”

“How do you mean?”

“Your penis is pretty big. And I’m really small, especially down there.

But that’s just an excuse. I know it’ll fit.”

“It will. Trust me.”

“Oh, I know. Still, I get worried sometimes. I mean, it eventually started to feel good with Simon, but it was never what I’d call ‘great.’”

“Well, we’ll take our time and make sure you’re ready.”

“I know. I trust you. But I’m still nervous about it. Wren was telling me what it was like having you inside her. She was trying to get me worked up, but she just made things worse. I still want to do it,” she said quickly. “Don’t get me wrong—I totally want to feel you inside me—but… it was weird.”

“Weird how?” I said when she didn’t continue.

“Promise you won’t say ‘I told you so’?”

“Cross my heart.”

The engine had finally warmed up to the point where the vents were blowing hot air. Christy turned and looked at the console.

“This is probably gonna be a longer conversation,” she said. “And I know you: you like me nude for this kind of thing.”

My eyebrows rose. “I like you nude any time. But yeah, I like playing with you while we talk, especially if it’s about sex.”

“I know. I like it too. No one’s ever made me feel the way you do. You…

make me all warm and tingly inside, like I’m about to come, only constant.”

She closed her eyes and smiled at the thought. “That’s one of the reasons I like being nude around you, and sleeping nude. I feel vulnerable sometimes, especially when you make me spread my legs and expose myself, but I know you’d never make fun of me.” She shot me a guilty grin. “I’m chattering.”

“Not really.”

“I am,” she said. “And I’m stalling.” She sat up and began undressing. I watched in silence as she tossed her dress and bra into the back seat. She unfastened her garters, slid her dark panties over her legs, and refastened the clasps on her stockings.

“I know you like these,” she said. “They make me feel sexy, so I like wearing them.” She grinned at me from under her lashes. “I like picking out my underwear in the morning, especially when I know you’re going to see it.

It’s the same when I shave for you. I think about you doing things to me.”

She fell silent and closed her eyes for a moment. Her nostrils flared as she moistened her lips. “I get so worked up sometimes.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” I said hoarsely.

She opened her eyes and gazed at my dick, which was standing at attention. Again. She slid across the seat and into my arms, and we kissed like teenagers. After a moment I let my hands explore the curves of her small body. She practically quivered with sexual energy.

“Oh my gosh,” she panted at last. “I want you more than ever. But… we can’t.”

My poor hard-on wanted to howl in frustration.

“I know that isn’t what you want to hear,” Christy said as if she’d heard,

“but I’m still not ready. Well, part of me is, but I can’t listen to her.”

“Why not?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I don’t want our first time to be in the back seat of a car—”

“Me neither.”

“—but there are a dozen hotels we could go to.”

She shook her head. “Not yet. And… I want it to be someplace ours when we do. Your bed or mine, it doesn’t matter.”

I nodded, in understanding if not agreement. The little head thought it was a stupid idea. The back seat of the Cruiser was fine by him. He could be such a romantic at times.

“Is it okay if we just talk?” Christy asked. “Well, more than that. I’m sure I’ll suck you off, but you know what I mean. We can’t go all the way.”

“If you say so.”

“I… say so. Thank you for understanding.” She kissed me again, short and full of heat. “Oh my gosh, I have to stop doing that, or I’m going to spread my legs right now.” She sighed. “Wren would be happy, but I don’t want our first time to include airplanes flying overhead and a seatbelt digging into my side.”

“Um, no,” I chuckled.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said after a moment. “I remember back when we first started fooling around, you told me you were patient. I didn’t really believe it at the time, but now I see what you mean. You have the patience of Job. The problem is, the rest of you makes me wanna do naughty things.”

She wrapped her small hand around my cock and stroked it gently.

“Let’s find a hotel,” I rasped.

“No, I told you, I’m not ready.” She moved her hand from my cock to my leg. “Besides, I want our first time to mean something. We can do it wherever you want afterward. But the first time needs to be special. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Tonight I just want to talk. And suck.” She grinned. “And maybe play with myself a little. I know you like that.”

“Mmm.”

“Unh, I have to stop! I keep thinking how much I want to feel you inside me. But I’m not ready, dammit! Laugh all you like, Mr. Smug. I’m sure this is easy for you. You have sex all the time. Thirty women! Well, I’ve only done it with one—man, that is—and it was a big deal. So quit laughing at me!”

“I’m not laughing,” I said earnestly. “Just… grinning.”

“Sometimes I don’t like you very much,” she grumped.

“And other times… like now?”

“My dad was right about your smirk. But it makes me want to kiss you more than anything.”

“I can live with that.”

“Good, ’cause you’re stuck with me. If we go all the way, I’ll never let you go. You know that, right?”

“I’m starting to get the picture.”

“So you’d better be nice to me. I won’t be just another notch on your bedpost, number thirty-one.”

“I don’t want that,” I said as seriously as I could.

“At least we agree on something.”

“We agree on lots of things.”

“Right. So hush and let me tell you what I’ve been thinking. This isn’t easy for me.”

I nodded contritely.

“Better. Now, where was I?” She stretched out on the seat and returned her head to my thigh. Then she kissed my flagging erection and said to him,

“I’ll take care of you soon. Okay? Can you be patient while I talk to Paul?

You can? Awesome. Thanks! You’re such a good penis.” She kissed the tip again. “More later, I swear.”

“He says okay.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless. “Remember,” she said by way of a preamble, “you promised not to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Got it.”

“Okay. So, here goes. I’ve been thinking about it, and you’re right: there is a difference between sex and love.” She shot me a glare, just in case I wanted to renege on my promise. When I didn’t, she added, “Wren finally convinced me.”

“For real? How?”

“She didn’t mean to. It was when she was telling me what it was like to have sex with you. I was sort of annoyed at first, partly because she’s done it and I haven’t, but also ’cause I thought I should be annoyed. Yeah, it was one of those times. You know, when I automatically feel a certain way because I think I’m supposed to.

“I got over it. But then I started getting nervous, ’cause she was talking about how good you are in bed and what it felt like to have your dick inside her. That’s when I remembered Simon and how it hurt with him. But I told you that already.”

I nodded.

“Anyway, then I started thinking about what she was really talking about, and I realized it was ‘just sex’ with her. I know she loves you, but it isn’t the same as you and me.”

“No.”

“That’s why I decided you might be right about the whole sex versus love thing. You remember the first night we were at the cabin? We talked about how long I waited with Simon?”

“Sure. What about it?”

“You said you want to have sex with me, make love to me, and… um…

fuck me.”

I chuckled, but it was mostly at her reluctance to use the word.

She shot me a glare but calmed down when she read my expression. “I normally don’t use language like that,” she admitted, “but this is important.

Besides, I think I’m going to be saying it a lot, especially where you’re concerned, so I might as well get used to it.”

“Fair enough. I’ll try not to tease you about it.”

“Thank you. Anyway, I used to think sex and making love and…

fucking… were the same thing. Then I realized they’re different for you. I should’ve figured it out sooner, especially since I know how you use words.

You paint with them, so they’re not ‘just words.’ They’re shades of meaning and different emotions for you, like colors on a palette for me, or different tools when I sculpt.”

“That’s exactly what they are. They’re tools to shape meaning.”

“Right. So if you say you want to have sex with me, you mean something completely different than if you want to make love to me.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And neither of those are the same as… um… fucking me.”

“No.”

She paused and thought about what she wanted to say next. “You probably figured out by now that I have a pretty vivid imagination.”

It seemed completely random, but I went along with it and said, “It’s why you’re so creative.”

“Maybe. But it’s definitely why I’m so weird about sex. I think about it all the time. And not just vanilla Penthouse Forum stuff.” She grinned up at me. “Yeah, Wren told me about that. She said I’m your hottest fantasy, and I think she’s right. But I’m not the Forum. I’m… um…” She shot me a

nervous look. “I’m Variations.”

My eyes tried to pop out of my head. “Have you actually read Penthouse Variations?”

“Of course. Duh. Brooke’s mother used to keep them under her bed.

We’d sneak in and read them after school. Where d’you think I got some of my wild ideas?”

“I really had no clue,” I said in disbelief.

“Mmm hmm. Sister Prune would have a heart attack if she knew all the things I wanna do with you. And I hope you know,” she added earnestly,

“I’ve never told anyone some of the things I’ve told you. None of my girlfriends and definitely none of the guys. Even Wren doesn’t know some of this stuff. Okay? Just so you understand.”

“I do.”

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

“I know. That’s why I say it.”

“See? You even do little things to make me happy.”

“I do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Romantic. But you distracted me again. We were talking about sex versus love versus fucking.” She grinned. “Your penis twitches every time I say it. Watch. Fucking.” Her eyes shone as she looked down at the proof. Then she bent and sucked gently. “Mmm, you taste good.”

“I’d taste even better if you keep sucking.”

“Be patient. I’ll take care of you properly, but later. Right now we’re talking. Still, I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I just… you know.”

I started to say something, but she captured my dick and caressed it with her lips. She continued for a couple of minutes before she released me.

“Oh my gosh, I totally wanna keep going, but I need to tell you what I’ve been thinking. So you’ll have to be patient a bit longer.”

“I think I can manage,” I said. “Although… you’d better be ready to swallow a huge load when I finally come.”

“Yes, please. And that’s sort of why I took my clothes off too. I know where this conversation will end up, and I don’t want semen stains on my dress.”

“For real?”

“Of course. I know how you are.” She shifted gears and grew serious again. “So, back to Wren. I realized she was talking about ‘just sex’ with you.

My imagination kicked in, and I started thinking about the words you used. I

realized I’m sort of the same. I say ‘penis’ because I like the way it feels in my mouth. I like the real thing more, but you know what I mean.

“And you like it when I say ‘cock’ or something naughty. Wren kept calling him your ‘dick.’ That’s what made me think of the difference between sex, love, and fucking.”

“Oh?” I thought I knew where she was going, but I wanted her to say it.

“Yeah. Think about it. When we make love—when I’m ready, I mean—

you’re going to ‘slide your penis’ into me. But when we have sex, you’re going to ‘shove your dick’ into me. And when you fuck me, you’re going to

‘ram your cock’ into me.” She was proud of her wordplay.

So was I. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“And I’m really excited about it. I know it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but I’m looking forward to going all the way. Long before we’re married, too. I’m sorry you have to wait, but that’s the last part of what I need to tell you tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I started doing what you do. I’ve been thinking about things and rehearsing what to say. Like, while you were flying yesterday. And today in the lounge while we were waiting in San Francisco. And then on the plane.

At least, I was, until you interrupted by trying to feel me up, Mr. Groper.”

I chuckled at the memory. The flight attendants had given us blankets and pillows after dinner, and I’d taken the opportunity to slide my hand up Christy’s dress when the cabin lights dimmed.

“Brothers and sisters aren’t supposed to do what you were trying to,” she said primly.

“Who says? Besides, you aren’t really my sister.”

“They didn’t know that,” she squawked. “I was Erin Hughes and you were my brother as far as they were concerned.”

“So? Maybe we’re affectionate siblings. Besides, you don’t look anything like Erin.”

“I do too! And don’t think I haven’t noticed. You dated brunettes all your life before you got serious with a girl who’s blonde and blue-eyed like your mother. Your sister too, for that matter.”

The accusation hit a lot closer to home than I was ready to admit, so I tried to play it off. “So? What about it? It’s just a coincidence.”

“You think it’s a coincidence that Harry and James married women who look like our mom?”

“Danny didn’t.”

“No, but he’s always been contrary, just to mess with us. Besides, Sabrina is perfect for him in other ways. Danny wants to go into politics someday, and he’s going to need someone like her. She and I’ve talked about it, and she knows she’s going to be Jackie to his Jack.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You mean, like, Kennedy?”

“Mmm hmm. You forget— No, I probably never told you. Sorry. Our dad’s a staunch Republican, but our mom’s always been a Democrat. And her mother, our nana, is Back Bay, Boston. Old money. She has pictures and stories from when the Kennedys were still in the State House. So that’s what Danny grew up hearing about.”

“Ah. I didn’t realize. I think he’d be a good politician. I’d certainly vote for him.”

“It won’t happen for a while. He wants a career in the military first. But he’s already thinking about the future, ten or fifteen years from now when he’s ready to run for office. Sabrina is part of that.” Christy nodded into the silence. “Exactly. So he’s sort of the exception to the rule that men marry their mothers. Harry and James both did.” She gave me a sharp look. “And you show every sign of doing the same.”

I felt a surge of adrenaline that had nothing to do with arousal. “We aren’t married yet.”

“But we’re talking about it. And you probably think we’re rushing—that I’ve done this before, like Danny said—but it’s different this time.” She gathered herself for an admission. “Simon was an excuse to hide from my family. That isn’t what I’m doing with you.”

“Oh? What are you doing with me?”

“The same thing Sabrina and Danny are doing. Marianne and Harry, too.

Lynne and James, although they don’t make a big deal about it.”

“Wh—?” I had to clear my throat before my voice came out as more than a croak. “And what’s that?”

“Planning our future together.” She broke the tension with a laugh as bright as a spring day. “Oh my gosh! Your penis just about fainted.” She licked pre-come and then kept sucking till my erection returned. “There, that’s better. He just needed a little attention.”

“He’s simple like that.”

“No, he’s really very complex. But he isn’t good at hiding his emotions.

He can’t lie to me like you can. Wait, I take that back. You don’t lie to me,

but you hide things all the time.”

“For your own protection.”

“I know. And you’ll tell me everything eventually. But your penis can’t hide anything.”

“Evidently not,” I grumbled.

“Oh, relax,” she said softly. Then she kissed the penis in question. “I kind of like when he tells me things. And you have to admit, I make both of you happy.”

“Mmm, you do.”

“And I’m not your sister, even though I sort of look like her. A smaller version, at least.” She laughed, softer and more affectionate. “I’ve always been annoyed that I’m so small. I mean, my brothers are all normal-sized.

How come I got the shrimp genes in the family? But now I kinda like it. I mean, it’d be weird if I was more like Erin or your mom.”

“Totally,” I lied.

She paused and cocked her head to look at me. Her brow furrowed. “You know, for a moment…”

I raised an eyebrow as innocently as I could.

“Sorry. Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

A reckless part of me wasn’t ready to let it go. “What do you mean? You don’t think Erin and I—”

“No! Of course not! Never in a million years. Only, for a moment… No, forget I said anything.”

Discretion finally kicked in, but a small part of me realized that she hadn’t been disgusted. More like embarrassed and even a bit curious. Note to self…, I thought.

“Anyway, where was I?” Christy said. “Oh, yes… talking about Wren and love and sex and all.”

“Right.”

She shook her head as if to clear it. “Sorry.” She glanced at my dick and noticed that it was still hard. Then she narrowed her eyes with the same look of calculation I’d seen on her father. “Sorry,” she said again. “What were we talking about?”

“Wren,” I said blandly, although I was grinning on the inside. “And love and sex and all.”

“Oh, yeah! Right.” She made an effort to focus. “So, you remember she thought I was being silly because I wouldn’t go all the way, and I sort of

agreed with her?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Well, I figured out why I’m not being silly.”

“Oh? Why?”

“The physical part still scares me a little, the size difference especially, but I know we’ll make it work. I guess what really scares me is the emotional part. And…” She glanced up to judge how I reacted to her next words. “The spiritual part.”

I clamped down on my immediate disapproval and looked at her with mild interest instead. It was the right decision, because she immediately relaxed.

“I know you gave me the cross,” she said as she fingered the necklace,

“and you let me go to Mass on Sunday, but… you still get this look of disapproval about anything religious.”

I almost admitted that I’d used the same word to myself. Almost.

“But I guess it’s like me and anything to do with sex. My first reaction is to think it’s dirty, but that isn’t how you think about it.”

“No.”

“So I’ve been trying to change, to think of sex like you do. And I know you’ve been trying to do the same with me, to understand how God is just part of my everyday life.”

I nodded slowly, unsure where she was going.

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is that for me, sex is spiritual too. It’s a bond between a man and a woman. No, I take that back. Love is spiritual. I think you’re probably right, sex is just something physical. But it’s different with me and you. I finally understood that, when Wren was talking about you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I guess the best way to explain it is to talk about her and Trip. I know you want me to have sex with him, and I’ll be honest, that really scares me.

But it isn’t about love. It’s ‘just sex.’ It feels weird to say that, but I think I understand now. And most of the time it’s ‘just sex’ with Wren and me.

She… doesn’t get attached like I do. I’m not saying that’s wrong,” she added quickly, “just that it’s different.”

I nodded.

“But I’m not like that. I’ve totally fallen for you. And I’m in real danger, like you said. The till-death-do-us-part kind. So sex with you will never be

‘just sex.’ It’ll always be more. And that’s why I’m not ready. I’m scared.

What if I’m wrong? What if you aren’t The One? What if we don’t connect on a spiritual level? What if, what if, what if?”

She drew a deep, unsteady breath and continued, “I know that’s a lot to deal with at once, but I had to tell you. I’ve had it bottled up for two days, thinking about it and trying to decide if I should say anything or not. I mean, it’d be easy to simply spread my legs and let you do what we both want.

But… I’m not that kind of girl. I know you hate it when I say that, but—”

“I don’t hate it,” I said quickly. “I just…” I thought about it for a long moment. “I guess I don’t like the idea of ‘that kind of girl’ being a bad thing.

Sex is natural. It’s part of life. And girls like it as much as guys do.”

“I certainly do.”

“Exactly. So ‘that kind of girl’ is every kind of girl. But I know what you mean. Sex is more emotional for you. And even… more spiritual. I can handle that.” I hope.

“Can you?”

I thought about it and nodded. “You’re changing me as much as I’m changing you.”

“So you understand why I’m not ready? It has nothing to do with the physical stuff. It’s the other stuff, in my head.” She swallowed hard. “That’s why I asked if you were happy, you know, with just blowjobs. I don’t want to lose you because I can’t figure out how to make my head cooperate.”

I chuckled and nodded with understanding.

“My body is easy. I’m scared, but I get so hot just thinking about it. I mean, you could hold me down and fuck me silly if you wanted to.” She laughed at my reaction. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“That sounds like me,” I laughed.

“But I don’t wanna screw this up,” she continued. “That’s also what you said. So I need to figure out how to get my head and my body on the same page. At least you’re patient. Like, amazingly patient. Wren said I can’t wait much longer, ’cause you’ll start looking for someone else.”

“Don’t listen to her,” I said. “She’s smart in lots of ways, but she’s wrong about that.”

“I tried to tell her, but she argued with me.”

My eyebrows rose with a question.

“Mmm hmm. I saw how you reacted to that girl in the ski shop, the one who sold us the sunglasses.”

My eyebrows arched a bit higher.

“Uh-huh. I could tell you were interested, but it wasn’t the same as the way you look at me.”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I think,” she said cautiously, “the only person I really have to worry about is Leah.” She waited for me to deny it and then nodded when I didn’t.

“I thought so. You really love her, like you love me.”

“Yes and no. I love her, but we aren’t in love. She feels the same about me. We might’ve had a chance if we were both in love at the same time, but…” I shrugged. “Now she has Mark, and…”

“You have me,” Christy finished.

“Exactly.”

“So I don’t need to worry about losing you to another woman, even Leah.”

“Even Leah,” I agreed.

“The only thing I need to worry about is if I can’t be the woman you want me to be.”

“More or less.”

She grinned. “You know that my family are a bunch of super-competitive overachievers, right?”

“I might’ve noticed, yes.”

“And we all hate to lose. Like, hate it.”

“Mmm hmm. I noticed that too.”

“So… I think you might be stuck with me, ’cause I’m gonna do whatever it takes to win, to keep you.”

“I like it when you get cocky,” I laughed.

“Mmm, you said ‘cock.’”

I felt a little dizzy at how quickly she’d changed gears, but I rose to the occasion with, “Feels good in your mouth?”

“Mmm, yes, please.” She engulfed the cock in question, and I groaned as it swelled even more.

I almost came when she spread her legs and began playing with herself.

Her smooth, shiny labia parted as her fingers quivered over her clit. I needed to distract myself, so I pinched and twisted her nipples.

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped, “I wanna taste you.”

“Oh, God! Here it comes!”

She moaned as a tidal wave gushed over her tongue and down her throat.

A moment later she stiffened as her own orgasm gripped her.

We fell back and panted after they passed, and she wiped semen from her cheek.

“See?” she said with a grin as she licked her finger. “I know you.”

“You do, all right.”

She cleaned her lips and then found several errant drops on my thigh, where they’d turned my khakis dark. She licked them up. “Mmm, still fresh.”

I caressed her cheek and brushed back her hair.

“I love you,” she said softly. Then she kissed my palm and closed her eyes as she inhaled.

“I love you too.”

After a while she looked up at me with a mischievous grin.

“Let me guess,” I said dryly, “now you want a midnight snack?”

“How’d you know?”

“I know you, too.”

“You do,” she said with a contented smile. “You feed me yummy semen and then real food.”

“Well, at this time of night, I’m afraid ‘real food’ is going to be Waffle House or an all-night diner.”

“Waffles?” She perked up. “Did you say waffles?”

“I did,” I laughed. Then I patted her flank. “Come on, Little Bit, let’s get you dressed and get out of here.”

She sat up and looked at her mussed hair in the mirror. “What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock as far as we’re concerned, but it’s after one here. And we still have a long drive home.”

“How long?”

“Three hours.”

“Do you think I can suck your cock the whole way home?”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“Waffles first,” she said. “Then penis. Mmm, lots and lots of penis. Ooh, ooh! Do you think they’d mind if I want semen on my waffles?”

“They’d probably call the cops!”

She pouted.

“Maybe we can try at home.”

“You mean it?” She bounced like a kid. “I bet you could cover a whole waffle with just one shot.” She turned smug and added, “But you know… I can eat three or four waffles.”

“Oh my God, I’ve created a monster.”

“Mmm, a waffle and penis monster!”