Three Little Words

Chapter 17

Christy and I picked up our class schedules and went through the usual paper chase on Wednesday. We both had scholarships, so we had the extra fun of a visit to the Financial Aid office. The University seemed to make everything as difficult and time-consuming as possible, except the part where we signed the checks and they got their money. (Everyone called it the Big Orange Screw for a reason. But I digress.)

Classes started on Thursday, and Gracie and I were both in Joska’s design class. Again. She didn’t ignore me, but her expression would’ve made the Great Sphinx proud. I shrugged and slid into a seat next to Freddie and a couple of other friends.

My classes on Friday were full of the usual faces and assignments as well. Trip and I had Mechanical Systems together, and we went to the gym afterward. Sadly, we didn’t get to enjoy Christy and Wren’s company afterward, since they were both in class.

He and I chatted about Sayuri’s boarding house on the way home and stopped by to check it out. The foreman wasn’t happy to see us, especially since it was almost quitting time, but he gave us a tour and brought us up to date on the schedule. The man annoyed me to no end, but his crew did good work and didn’t waste time or money.

Later that evening Trip and Wren went out to dinner and a movie. Christy and I weren’t in the mood to cook anything elaborate, so we made a salad and ate fish sticks and French fries. We’d been so busy with our lives lately that it felt like we hadn’t spent five minutes together since the trip home from California.

Over dinner we talked about our schedules. She was taking two extra classes to help make up for the quarter she’d missed after Laurence’s death.

One of them was a sham class, although it was allowed by the University rules. Siobhan had approved her for an Independent Study, which was basically a way for Christy to earn course credit for work she’d have to do anyway. Her other class was real enough, though, Japanese Literature in English Translation.

“I have a ton of reading and writing to do for it,” she said. “I’m going to live in front of your computer.”

“Funny you should mention that.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking… We haven’t really seen each other since we got back. We’re like two ships passing in the night.”

“You can say that again.”

“Mmm hmm. And I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but I need all these classes if I want to graduate on time.”

“Then we’ll have to find some other way to spend time together.”

“When?” she said plaintively. “I’m in class or working on my portfolio all day. I barely have time to do aerobics with Wren, and we’re talking about going to the pool in the morning before class, since it’s the only time we’re both available.”

Wren was swamped with work as well, since she’d decided at the last minute to do an honors thesis. Trip was taking an extra class too, accounting, on top of his full load of architecture courses. He was determined to get a business minor, against Professor Joska’s advice.

“Besides,” he’d said, “I’m playing the system. It’s a free class. Tuition’s the same whether I take twelve hours or twenty.”

I was the only one with a normal course load, although “normal” was entirely subjective for anyone taking a design class with Joska.

I returned my thoughts to Christy and said, “Maybe we should live together.”

“What’re you talking about? We already live together.”

“No, we live in the same house.”

“So? What’s the dif—?” Her eyes widened. Then she blushed. “Are you asking what I think you are?”

“I’m asking you to move in with me. To my bedroom. Full-time. I have space in my closet and can clear out a couple of drawers in my dresser.”

“We can’t. I mean, what’ll we tell my parents?”

“We don’t have to tell them anything. You’re an adult.”

“But… we can’t. This is a big deal. I thought we were taking baby steps!”

“Look,” I said gently, “I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. We haven’t slept together since Tahoe, and I miss it. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but… you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Of course I do. I’m asking you to move in with me.”

“What… what if you don’t like it?”

“Then we’d better find out now,” I laughed. “Seriously. I want to try living with you. I mean, sharing a house is one thing, but—”

“Sharing a bed is another! It’s… living in sin.”

“So? Trip and Wren do it and they’re fine.”

“They aren’t Catholic!”

“Danny and Sabrina are.”

“She’s Episcopal.”

“Semantics,” I said dismissively. “He’s Catholic.”

“Yeah, lapsed!”

I wanted to point out that Christy was too, but that wouldn’t help my argument.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s a guy.” She held up a hand before I could reply. “I know what you’re going to say, but men and women are different.”

“Maybe on the outside, but—”

“On the inside too. I’m… not like Danny. I’m not like you, for that matter. I can’t just sleep with someone whenever I feel like it.”

“Neither can I! Why do you think I didn’t sleep with any of those girls last summer?”

“I knew you were going to throw them in my face!”

“Sorry, you’re right. But still… I mean it, I don’t want to sleep with just anyone. I want to sleep with you.”

“Sure! Until you get tired of me and find someone else.”

“Hold on, is that what this is about?”

“Well, isn’t it? You just want to have fun and add another notch on your bedpost.”

I blinked in surprise and then shook my head. “You are completely irrational when you’re scared.”

“I am not!”

“Are too. Now come here.” I scooted my chair back and tugged her wrist

until she moved to my lap. I wrapped my arms around her and ducked to look her in the eye. “Christine Marie Carmichael, I want you, not some notch on a bedpost. I’m scared too. I’ve never done this before either.”

“You haven’t?”

“No. I’ve had serious girlfriends, but we’ve never lived together. So this is new for me too. I don’t know if we’ll make it work, but I wanna try. I never wanted to with Gina or Kendall or even Leah. But I do with you. I think you might be The One, and this is the next step.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course.”

“You aren’t just saying it to get me to go all the way?”

I chuckled. “No. Why? Are you thinking about it?”

“Of course I am! It’s all I seem to think about these days. I want to, but…” She looked down. “I’m still not ready.”

“Sleeping together doesn’t mean we have to go all the way. We didn’t in Tahoe.”

“But that was different. That was just on vacation. This is… for real.”

“It is for real,” I said solemnly. “I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, and I’d like to know for sure. This is how we find out. Part of it, at least.”

“The other part is…” She made a vague gesture.

“Mmm hmm, making love.”

She gulped.

“Sex.” I grinned and let that sink in before I added, “Fucking.”

“I knew you were going to say that.”

“Yep. Sorry. I can’t help it.”

“You can say that again.”

“I can’t help it. It’s all I think about sometimes.”

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

“I’m talking about sliding my penis into your vagina.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“Shoving my dick in your pussy.”

“Oh, boy, here we go.”

“Ramming my cock deep, deep inside you.”

“I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

“Right now, though, I’d be happy with a blowjob. Or two.”

“Oh, you would, would you?”

“Mmm hmm. But first we need to move your things into my room. Some of ’em, at least.”

“You’re serious?”

“Well, I don’t think all your stuff will fit.”

“That isn’t what I’m talking about and you know it!”

“Yeah, I know. And I get it, you’re scared. In some ways you’re still a good Catholic girl. But you’re a normal girl in all the ways that count. Maybe a little kinkier than most, but I kinda like that.”

“I bet you do, Mr. Pervert! Sorry, sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. I know you hate that word. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know you don’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I don’t. I… kinda like it.” She looked down and swallowed hard. “I’ve always thought I’m a pervert, especially—”

“You aren’t.”

“No, hear me out. I’ve always thought I’m a pervert, especially with some of the things I like. Sex things. Like, the biting and spanking and… um… the other things. So when I say you’re a pervert, I guess I really mean you’re like me.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. I’ve always known I was different. But you’re different too.

That’s why I tell you stuff. And why… I’ll move in with you.” She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. “I still think it’s ‘living in sin,’ but… I can’t help myself. I want you so much it hurts sometimes.”

“I know what you mean. The last few days—”

“Have been miserable. We’ve been so busy that I thought I wouldn’t notice, but—”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. At night. In the morning. During class. In the—”

“Shower.” She grinned. “Yeah, me too. And in bed. In my studio…”

My eyebrows shot up.

“Yesterday,” she said with a nod. “You were at judo. Wren and I were supposed to be working, but she had to meet with her thesis advisor. No one was home, so I just…” She fluttered her fingers.

“For real? You just… took care of things?”

“I did! I didn’t even take my clothes off or anything. I just unbuttoned my jeans and… did it!” She blushed. “Gosh, it feels so weird telling you that. I mean, you talk about it all the time, but I’m supposed to be a proper young

lady.”

“‘Supposed to be’ is the key phrase there.”

“Well, I know that, and you know that, but I have a reputation. I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of pervert or something.”

“Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course.” She grinned but then turned serious. “I do love you. And I want to move in with you. I want to do everything with you. But I still want to take baby steps. Except when I don’t.”

“No contradictions there,” I said dryly.

“I’m a woman. It’s my prerogative. Now, you mentioned something about moving in? And… extra closet space?”

I laughed. “You only want the extra space, don’t you?”

“Well, I really want you, my sexy boyfriend, but if you have extra space…”

“I do.”

“Then I guess it’s a package deal.”

“It is!” I said with another laugh. “Come on, Little Bit, let’s get you moved in. Then we need to talk about that blowjob I mentioned.”

“Hold on, I thought you said two.”

“Right you are. Two it is!”

We spent the next hour consolidating things in my bedroom. Then we filled two dresser drawers with her underwear, one with everyday bras and panties and the other with special occasion lingerie.

She covered the top of the dresser with her “lotions and potions”—all the things she used on her face and body—and filled the closet to bursting with a fraction of her hanging clothes. She left all of her shoes and purses and most of her dresses and formal outfits in her old room, which looked like a tornado had gone through.

She was giddy afterward as we surveyed our new “home” together. It still looked like my room, except for the tubes and bottles and jars on the dresser, but it was ours.

“Hmm,” I said with a theatrical scowl. “It needs something else.”

Christy fell for it. “What?”

“I’m not sure…”

She grew more anxious.

“Ah! I know. Your clothes on the floor.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned.

“I’m serious. Strip. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

I took off my own clothes and swatted her bare ass when she climbed onto the bed. She lay back, stretched languidly, and then posed for me. I simply admired her for a moment, until she grew tired of waiting.

“You promised me something,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“You mean… blowjob?”

“Yep! That’s the magic word.” I straddled her chest and aimed my cock at her mouth. She ran her hands up the backs of my thighs and gripped my ass. Then she pulled me toward her, and I had to catch myself before I hit the wall. Her strength always surprised me.

“Mmm, yummy penis.” Her eyes held mine as her lips circled the head.

Then she let her eyelids droop as she began sucking gently.

I closed my eyes and settled in for a long blowjob. Or two.

“Oh my gosh,” Christy gasped, “the second was more than the first!” She rolled to her back and wiped semen from her lips and cheek. “I couldn’t swallow fast enough.”

“Can you blame me? I get really worked up when you take your time.” I moistened my parched lips. “Gimme a minute and I’ll take care of you.”

“I… um… kinda took care of myself already. Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

“Ah. Okay. Then get up here.” She scooted along my side and draped her leg over mine. I lazily rubbed her back as we caught our breath in companionable silence. Eventually I said, “So, you like being my live-in girlfriend?”

“Your live-in sex kitten, you mean?”

“Of course.”

“Then yes.”

I kissed the top of her head. “Me too.”

We fell silent again, but she was restless.

She eventually worked up her courage and said, “I don’t know if now’s the right time, but…”

“What’s up?”

“I was talking to Siobhan about getting an MFA.”

“Good. She thinks you should. Duh.”

“Yeah. And she’s been telling me about… um… other schools.” She waited for me to react. When I didn’t, she grew more confident and continued, “She has friends at Yale and Rhode Island, but she also thinks I should apply to UCLA.”

“Those’re good schools,” I said judiciously, “Rhode Island especially.

But you’d do well at any of them.”

“And I’d’ve jumped at the chance before. But now…”

“Right. Now we’re together.”

“Yeah.”

“What does Siobhan think you should do?”

“She thinks I should stay here, but she wants to give me options. UT

doesn’t have the prestige of those other places, but they don’t have Siobhan either.”

“What do you think? I mean, we could make it work if you go to Connecticut or Rhode Island or even California.”

“Do you want a long-distance relationship? I thought that was one of the reasons you didn’t get back together with Gina.”

“We didn’t get back together for lots of reasons. If you recall, you were the main one.”

“I know, but… If I go to one of those schools, I’ll completely understand if you want to break up with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll make it work.” I tried to keep emotion out of my voice as I said, “Which one were you thinking about?”

“None of them. I want to stay here. With you. With Siobhan too, but mostly with you.”

“But what about your education?” I said doggedly.

“I don’t care. I want you. Don’t you want me?”

“Of course. But I also want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy here! Siobhan says my work has progressed to the next level

recently.”

“She’s right,” I said. “The Dying Replicant was your best ever.”

“She says you’re my muse.”

“I might be the spark that gets you started, but the inferno is all you.”

“You and your words,” she said with a happy sigh. She rubbed my chest and then followed it with a kiss. “But it’s really you. Siobhan thinks so too.

She says my work lately is good enough for exhibition. Like, in a real gallery.

It’s some of the best she’s seen, she says.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And it has nothing to do with me.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous. Of course it has to do with you. I’m happy, aren’t I? Ecstatic, even! And it’s all ’cause of you.”

“Thank you.”

“So you think I should stay here?”

“I want you to stay here, but we’ll make it work if you go somewhere else. I can fly for free till I’m twenty-four, so I can come visit every— Hold on, why’re you shaking your head?”

“It won’t work. I don’t think you understand. I… need you.”

I paused and then asked, “What do you mean?”

“You probably think I’m crazy,” she said. “I want to go slow with one thing but rush everything else. I mean, we’re practically engaged—in my head, at least—even though I can’t bring myself to go all the way. But I can’t imagine life without you. I’ve been miserable these past couple of days.

Tonight convinced me: I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

“Then why’d you mention the other schools? Never mind. I think I understand.”

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I guess I got scared. I… wanted to give you an opening if you want to get rid of me.”

“You’re so strange sometimes.”

“No, just… afraid… that you might not like me as much as I like you.”

“How can you possibly think that? Still? After tonight?”

“I… don’t know. I just do. Not all the time,” she added quickly. “Just…

sometimes. I worry that you’ll think I’m weird or perverted or dirty or something.”

“I think you’re weird and perverted and dirty, and I like you even more because of it.”

“Thank you.”

“Besides, I still haven’t told you everything either. We’re practically

engaged in my head too, but I can’t bring myself to tell you my darkest secrets. They aren’t dark, really, but they’re… pretty unusual.”

“More than me liking pain and… um… other kinky stuff?”

“Way more,” I said automatically. Then I thought about it. “Although…

no, not really. Just different. Still, I’m not ready to tell you.”

“Then I guess we’re both taking baby steps.”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s a good thing we’re together. We’re the same kind of weird.”

She kissed my chest and sighed. “Wren says you’re going to rock my world when we go all the way.”

“She says the same about you.”

“Yeah, I know. I still need to wring her neck.” She laughed again. “It’s driving her crazy, not being able to tell me things. She wants to, but she’s afraid of what you’ll do if she does.”

“Nah, I’m all bark and no bite.”

“She doesn’t think so. I know you think she’s pushy—and she can be—

but she really listens to you. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back, I can see where she stopped matchmaking whenever you had a talk with her.

At least, until she grew impatient again.”

“That’s her biggest weakness,” I agreed. “Impatience.”

“And your biggest strength. You’d’ve dumped me long ago if you weren’t patient.”

“Well, you’re worth it.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “You’re worth it too. I can’t imagine anything you’d tell me that’d make me think otherwise. And believe me, my imagination is pretty wild.”

“Not as wild as the truth.”

“Try me.”

“Not yet,” I said after a long pause. “When you’re ready.”

“When we go all the way?”

“Probably before then. I’ve… been thinking about it. I don’t think it’s fair to go all the way before you know some things about me.”

“Then I need to convince you I can handle anything you tell me.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job already.”

“So my Scheherazade plan is working?”

“Like a charm!” I laughed.

“Good, ’cause I like telling you my stories and secrets. All my life I’ve

had to keep ’em to myself.”

“Well, you don’t have to with me.”

“I know. That’s why I want to stay here, why I moved in with you, why I need you.” She raised herself on one elbow and looked at me. “So it’s settled? I’m going to get my Master’s with Siobhan and be your live-in girlfriend?”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

And just like that, we made our fourth major decision as a couple.

I called home on Sunday while Christy went to Mass. Mom answered and we talked for ten minutes before I worked up the nerve to tell her about Christy moving in with me.

“So it’s serious?” Mom said.

“I think so.”

“Whatever happened to Kendall?” she asked out of the blue.

“She graduated last June. I don’t know what she did after that. Medical school, I hope.”

“Her family wasn’t at camp last summer. I’ll have to ask Susan if she’s heard anything.”

“Drew still plays football here. I read his name in the newspaper every once in a while, but I haven’t seen him since Kendall and I broke up. It’s a big university, and we run in different circles.”

“That’s okay. I’ll ask Susan. She’ll know. Back to you and Christy. So, things are getting serious. Do we need to meet her parents?”

“Eventually. No rush, though. We’re still taking baby steps.”

“Living together is a pretty big one. Your dad and I didn’t do it till we were married.”

“Yeah, but you were doing other things before then,” I teased. “You were married in December; I was born in June. I can do the math, Mom.”

“You came early.”

“Not that early,” I said dryly. “Anyway, she should be home soon, so I’d better get off the phone. She likes to call her family on Sunday.”

“Okay. Take care, honey. And thanks for calling. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. Bye.”

I looked at my watch and decided I had time for another call, so I dialed Sara’s number. She answered on the fifth ring, out of breath.

“Hey,” I said, “it’s Paul. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Yes. No! Hold on.” She set down the phone, and I heard muffled bumps and scrapes. “Sorry about that,” she said when she returned. “I just got home.

I have to run back out, but I can talk for a while. How’re you?”

“Good. You?”

“Busy, but that’s good. Sorry I missed you after New Year’s. I got your note. What happened?”

I told her about the problems with the flights and our unscheduled layover in San Francisco.

“But you made it home okay?”

“Yeah. Been busy since, though. Picking up schedules, paying fees, first days of class, that sort of thing.”

“I don’t miss it a bit.”

“I won’t either.”

“You still have another year, though, right?”

“Two.”

“Oh, that’s right, Architecture’s a five-year program. What’s Christy gonna do while you’re still in school? She graduates in June, doesn’t she?”

“She’s going to stay here and get an MFA.”

“I thought about doing that, but it just doesn’t make sense for photography.”

“No, especially when you can start work almost immediately. Not much demand for sculptors.”

“No, but Christy’s really good. She could get a lot of commissions out here.”

“Still trying to get into her panties?” I joked.

“Can you blame me? Besides, I still owe you.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, “I’m sorry to hear about you and Daphne.”

“Yeah, me too. Thanks. I finally worked up the courage after Christmas.

It was a lot less drama than I expected. We both knew it was coming. I’m pretty sure she was going to leave anyway, after the start of the year. So the timing was right.”

“And now you can still be friends.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if we will. I mean, it’s possible, but her life with her guy is going a completely different direction than mine. I’m getting more

into the lesbian and gay scene here, while she’s running away as fast as she can.”

“You know she was never a real lesbian, right?”

“I know.” All of a sudden she laughed.

“What?”

“This conversation. It’s so strange. Are you sure you aren’t gay?”

“Pretty sure,” I said seriously.

“Jamie’s friend Andy has a serious crush on you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Crap, I completely forgot! I need to call him.”

“You are gay,” she crowed. “Or at least curious.”

“Nah, I’m just a lot more open-minded these days. Besides, ‘judge not, lest ye be judged.’”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just teasing,” she said with more fondness than I’d ever heard from her. Then she sighed and said, “I’ve missed talking to you.

You always make me feel better.”

“The feeling’s mutual. Even if you do tease me all the time.”

“I tease you ’cause I like you. If I didn’t, I’d tell you to fuck off.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed. “So, what’s going on in your life? How’s Max?

Work? The new submissive girlfriend?”

“Tasha. Her name’s Tasha. And things’re going well. We’ve been on a couple of double dates with her husband an—”

“Hold on. Double dates?”

“Yeah, it’s… complicated. Her husband has a serious boyfriend, and they like to eat out. I’ve been his ‘date’ in case his parents run into us. The husband’s parents, that is. They’re city council types and Carnegie-rich.

They’ll cut him off if they find out he’s gay.”

“Gee, talk about loving parents,” I muttered.

“Not everyone’s as lucky as you and the little princess,” she said peevishly. Then almost immediately, “Sorry. I guess I’m still bitter about my own parents. Fucking drunks.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“Anyway, let’s get back to the happy stuff. So, Tasha. We’ve been on a couple of double dates, and things are moving along. I like her, and she likes me, but we have to be careful. So… it’s complicated. Good, but complicated.”

“Makes my life with Christy seem downright ordinary.”

“Well, you still have to tell her about your deep, dark secrets. How’s that going?”

“Fine on the nudist front. She isn’t ready to know about the swinging.”

“But you think she will be?”

“Yeah. She’s a lot… wilder than I ever imagined. Like, my kind of wild.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” I said. “Not exactly the same, but she has some deep, dark secrets too.”

“That’s probably why she isn’t freaked out by some of yours.”

“I hope so. Now I just have to find the right time to tell her about the swinging.”

“Yeah, about that…”

“Oh?”

“So… um… Tasha likes guys occasionally.”

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she snapped.

“You. You always seem to find women who’re bi instead of pure lesbian.”

“Tell me about it!”

“So,” I ventured, “what’re you thinking?”

“Well, I asked if toys’ll do, but she says she likes the real thing. Not all the time, but every once in a while.”

“That explains why she has a husband.”

“Not really. He’s a hundred percent gay. He can’t even get it up for her.

They’ve tried. That’s where you come in.”

“Ah. You need a stand-in guy who won’t cause problems.”

“Right.”

“And lemme guess,” I laughed, “while this stand-in guy is fucking your girlfriend, you’ll be fucking his girlfriend.”

“You’re a quick one,” she said without a trace of irony. “I’m serious, though,” she added. “You’re the only guy I trust. You… know how I feel about men in general. Straight ones, at least.”

“I do,” I said. “And I’m flattered.”

“Yeah, well… don’t get all full of yourself. You aren’t anything special.”

“Yes, I am, and you know it. Just like you’re special to me.”

“I’ll kick your ass you if you make me cry. Asshole.”

“I love you too,” I shot back. I heard the front door slam and then the

sound of small shoes running up the stairs.

Christy appeared in the doorway. “I’m back!” she said, breathless. “Oh, sorry. Who’re you talking to?”

“Sara.”

“Is that the princess?” Sara asked. “Tell her hi.”

“Oh,” Christy said. “Okay. Say hello for me.”

I chuckled and passed along the reciprocal greetings.

“How’s she doing?” Christy asked. “How’re things with the gallery?”

“I was just about to ask,” I said.

“Ask what?” Sara said.

“Okay,” I told them both, “no offense, but I can only talk to one of you

—”

“It’s okay,” Christy said immediately. “Finish talking to her. I’ll be downstairs. I’m hungry. My stupid metabolism.” She bent and kissed my cheek. “I love you,” she said softly. Then, louder, “We love you, Sara. Hope things are going well. Sorry about Daphne, but you’ll find someone.”

She kissed my cheek again and disappeared through the door. She was humming to herself as she pattered down the stairs.

“She’s just nice, isn’t she?” Sara said. “Like, no shit, just a nice person.”

“She is,” I agreed.

“Then you’d better not fuck it up with her. I’ll kick your ass if you’re a jerk. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said faux-contritely.

“And think about what I said, the other thing. It’s way too early—for either of us—but you’re the only guy I’d ask.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “The chemistry has to be right. The timing too.”

“Well, you have more experience than me, so I’ll take your word for it.”

“Yeah. We’ll see. Anyway, how’s the rest of your life? Things going well with Max?”

“Yeah, they are,” she said, almost in surprise “She wants to show more of my work at her gallery. She has some buyers interested in some of my large-format prints. I enlarged a series of Daphne and you. Remember the ones where you’re wearing a dog collar?”

“How could I forget?”

“I showed her those and she loved ’em. She already sold a bunch of the smaller ones. You have no idea how much money people are willing to spend

on art out here. It’s crazy, Paul! It’s a lot, even after Max takes her commission.”

“I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘well.’ I never know how much it’s going to be. One week might be a thousand dollars; the next, a hundred. I don’t have to worry about making rent or paying for food, even now that Daphne’s moved out, but I’m not exactly rolling in it.”

“You will be, though, especially with your talent.”

“Thanks. I’m starting to think that myself. If things keep going the way they are, I’ll be able to save up enough to move out of this shithole dump of an apartment.”

“That’s the spirit!”

She laughed. “You’re always so fucking positive. You even make me feel hopeful sometimes.”

“Good. I like making women happy.”

“Watch it, buster. You aren’t my type.”

“I know,” I laughed. “I’m just teasing. I do like making you happy, though. Just not the way I’m used to.”

“Save it for Christy. And maybe Tasha. Anyway, let’s talk about you. I have to go soon, and we’ve been talking about me the whole time.”

“Well, big news here too,” I said. I told her about the ski trip and how Christy and I had decided to move in together.

“Holy shit. That is big news.”

Christy herself appeared.

I said, “Yeah, we’re both pretty happy with the arrangement so far. This is the first time I’ve ever lived with someone who isn’t ‘just a roommate,’ if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sara said. “It’s a big deal getting used to someone being there all the time. I think that’s what I miss most about Daphne.”

“What’s she think?” Christy asked. “About us living together?”

“Hold on a sec,” I said to Sara. Then I held out the handset to Christy.

“Ask her yourself.”

She took it and sat on the bed next to me. I scooted toward the center to give her room. She said hello to Sara and then silently shook her head when I urged her to move closer.

“Hold on,” she said to Sara when I persisted, “Paul’s being a pest.” She

covered the mouthpiece and glared. “Will you stop!”

“I’ll stop if you sit on my lap.”

Her eyes widened but then she sighed. “You promise?” She threw her leg over mine and settled on my hips. We were both fully clothed, but the implication was obvious. She put the phone back to her ear. “Sorry about that,” she said to Sara. “He’s a total horndog sometimes.” She laughed.

“Yeah, I know.” She listened for a moment and then dutifully repeated, “You think you’re God’s gift to women.”

“I am!” I proclaimed.

Christy rolled her eyes and tried not to grin as I smiled up at her. She chatted with Sara for several minutes and listened to the gallery story, minus the description of the pictures. Then Sara must have asked about us living together.

“Yeah,” Christy said. “I really like it so far. It’s taken some getting used to, though. He’s a neat freak and I’m not, so I have to pick my clothes up or he gets crabby.” She shrugged and nodded as Sara said something. “Yeah, that too. He doesn’t have a problem with my underwear lying around, though.” She listened and then grinned down at me. “Of course, that’s his favorite part.”

I ran my hands up her torso and cupped her breasts. She tried to shove me away, but I ignored her. Then I began unbuttoning her blouse, which earned a stern glare. I ignored that too and peeled the silk away from her body. She wore a plain white bra with lace trim on the cups. Sadly, it fastened in the back.

“Yeah, I need to go too,” Christy said into the phone. “It was good talking to you, though. Sorry we missed you in San Francisco. We’ll try to give you more warning next time.” She nodded. “Uh-huh. You too. Okay. Take care.

Bye.”

She thumbed the switch to hang up. “You’re horrible.”

“I know,” I said, unrepentant. “But I can’t help myself. I like playing with you.”

“Not while I’m on the phone.”

“Why not? Sara couldn’t see.”

“Someone else might. The door’s wide open.”

“So? Trip and Wren have seen you naked.”

“But not with you groping me.”

“You want me to stop?”

“I didn’t say that,” she admitted. “Just… maybe… be more discreet.”

“Are they even home?” I paused to listen, but the house was quiet.

“No. They went to sell his car to a guy in one of his classes. They said they’d be back in time for dinner.”

“So we have the house to ourselves?”

“Yes, Mr. Groper.”

I grinned as artlessly as I could.

She didn’t buy it.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That depends.”

I waggled my eyebrows.

“You really do think you’re God’s gift to women.”

“I’m God’s gift to one woman,” I said. “You.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Then she leaned over to replace the phone handset in its cradle. She sat back on my hips and gazed down at me for a long moment.

“Promise you’ll let me call my parents after?” She held up a finger. “And no groping!”

“No groping. I swear.”

She nodded and slipped the blouse from her shoulders. Then she reached back and unfastened the bra. The cups fell away from her firm breasts as she slid it down her arms. I waited for her to toss it aside and then pinched her nipples. She closed her eyes and squirmed as I gently twisted them.

I pulled her down for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes.”

“Crazy in a good way.”

“Very good. But still crazy.”

“Sorry. It comes with the package.”

“I know. I can feel your ‘package’ now.” She moaned softly and pressed her crotch against it. “He’s very excited.”

“He misses you.”

“Do I need to say hello?”

“He likes talking to you.”

“Well, then… we’d better see what he has to say.”

Life settled into a routine pretty quickly, as it always did. Every day I woke up early and went for a run, although I hated leaving Christy and our warm bed. I needed the time to myself, though, to plan my day and think about anything I needed to work through.

Christy was usually awake by the time I returned, and she was always in the mood to fool around. Sometimes she started without me and smiled guiltily when I rejoined her in bed. Other times she waited until she could play with herself while she sucked me off. She was self-conscious about her sex drive sometimes, but it was just as high as mine.

After we relaxed and caught our breath and talked for a while, she’d bounce out of bed and dig through her pile of clothes until she found something to wear to go to the pool with Wren. I’d toyed with the idea of a clean floor rule but abandoned it pretty quickly. A semi-messy room was a small price to pay for having her with me all the time. Compromise. Besides, I kept my studio neat and tidy, so I had a place to retreat when I needed to escape the chaos.

Trip and Wren found their own routine that worked with ours. She went to the pool with Christy several mornings a week and alternated aerobics in the afternoons on the other days. He met me for class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and we went to the Bubble afterward for a workout.

His accounting class met on Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, so I had time for judo practice with Glen.

I also started work on my project for design class. Joska had told us to choose a foreign architectural style, and Christy had suggested Japan, naturally. I checked out a stack of books from the library and even borrowed some photo albums from Sayuri. She’d grown up in Yokohama, in Kanagawa Prefecture. Her father had owned a drug store before the war, so they’d been able to afford family trips and a camera.

I started reading up on Japanese architecture and soon became fascinated by what they did with wood and laminates, which dovetailed nicely (pun intended) with one of my other classes, Structures in Wood and Steel. I started my project with a thoroughly traditional design along the lines of a Buddhist temple, but Christy took one look at my sketches, shook her head, and suggested something different.

“You aren’t Japanese,” she said. “Just like you aren’t Frank Lloyd Wright or Eero Saarinen. That’s what Siobhan tells me all the time: I’m not Bernini or Canova. ‘Don’t do what they did,’ she says. ‘Be inspired by their work, but

create your own style.’ It’s good advice.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “What do you suggest?”

“Something modern and airy, like your museum, but with a Japanese feel.

Here, let me have your pencil.”

I handed it over, grabbed another from the cup on my new drafting table, and moved aside to let her draw.

Christy started with a version of the Daibutsu statue from the Kōtoku-in Temple in Kamakura. Sayuri and her family had visited it when she was a girl, and she had more than a dozen snapshots in one of her albums.

I moved behind Christy and leaned over her shoulder. She smiled, kissed my cheek, and returned her attention to her work. I sketched around her as she added details to the statue. She offered comments as I outlined the building and added design elements.

“Make sure you curve the roof,” she added. “It’s a Buddhist thing. Evil spirits can only move in straight lines.”

“Got it.”

We worked together for several hours before a sound at the door broke our concentration.

“I brought you dinner,” Wren said. “I kept it warm as long as I could, but when it was clear you weren’t coming down…”

I looked at my watch and realized it was after ten o’clock. “Sorry, I guess we were in our own little world.”

“You were cute,” she said, “standing together as you drew.” She shook her head in amazement. “I wish I had a tenth of the talent either of you have.

I’d be set for life. You make it look so easy.”

“If people knew how hard we work, it wouldn’t seem so easy at all.”

“You can say that again,” Christy agreed tiredly. Then she grinned at me.

“Now you see why I forget to eat sometimes?”

“Oh, brother.” Wren set the tray on the unoccupied drafting stool. “Trip and I’ve had a long day, so we’re going to bed. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I teased, “we won’t.”

She rolled her eyes but gave Christy a friendly kiss on the cheek. Then she stood on tiptoe and did the same to me. She left with a wave.

Christy and I tore the foil off the plates and dug in.

“I think I have a pretty good idea how to finish the building,” I said when I finally came up for air. “The interior needs to be open. I like those sliding panels that redefine the space—”

“Fusuma,” she said.

“—but I think they need to be wood instead of cloth. And the translucent paneled doors—”

“Shōji.”

“—need to be glass instead of paper. Still translucent, but they’ll have a modern look and better acoustic properties.”

She grinned.

“What?”

“I love watching you design.”

“And I love doing it with you.”

“We’re still talking about architecture, aren’t we?”

“Yes, Miss Sex Kitten.”

“I can’t help it,” she said. “You make me all tingly when you’re creative like that.”

“Well, I’m creative ’cause of you. My first design was crap. This new one is all you. You’re my muse.”

“I may be the spark, but you’re the inferno. See? I told you, I’m always paying attention.”

“You are.”

Her expression fell. “Only, I wish I could come up with brilliant ideas for my own project.”

“All right,” I said slowly. “Let’s talk. What’re you thinking?”

“Something feminine this time. And I want to do a series.”

“You mentioned Canova earlier. Why not do something like his Pauline Bonaparte.”

“She’s the one on the couch, right?”

“Right. And she’s actually called Venus Victrix.”

“Like the Venus of Urbino?”

“Titian. Yep. Same idea. Giorgione did an earlier version, and Manet did a later one with Olympia. It’s a classic pose.”

“How do you know all this stuff? It’s my specialty and you know it better.”

“I know it. You can do it. There’s a difference. I couldn’t paint or sculpt a Venus if my life depended on it. But you… you can do both. Beautifully.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, so let’s think about something you can make your own. How about something Japanese to go with my design? Maybe the Venus of

Kanagawa?”

“Like Kanagawa-oki nami ura.”

“Um… I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s ‘under a wave off Kanagawa,’” she explained.

“Oh, I know that one. Hold on…” I snapped my fingers. “The big wave by Hokusai? It’s a woodblock print, isn’t it?”

“Ukiyo-e, yes.”

I tried saying it and mangled it horribly. Languages weren’t my forte.

Christy’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “I finally found something you aren’t good at.”

“I’m not good at lots of things. So let’s get back to something I am good at, art history.”

“Where we first met.”

“Exactly. So… let’s think. What kind of series can you do with a Venus and Japan?”

“Time,” she suggested. “And beauty.”

“Show me.”

Her eyes flashed and she reached for her sketchbook. She flipped to an empty page. “I want to do something with Wren,” she said as she began drawing. Her eyes never left the page, and her lines flowed smoothly as she talked. “I hope you don’t mind. The Replicant was my excuse to be near you.

And this time—”

“You want to be near Wren.”

“I knew you’d understand. I’m glad you aren’t jealous. I love her, even though she drives me crazy sometimes. Not like you do, but still. She’s on one of her marketing campaigns again.”

“Lemme guess, she wants us to have sex.”

“Yeah. It’s none of her business, but it sort of is. What she really wants is to do it with you. On a regular basis, I mean.” She didn’t bat an eye at what she’d just said. She was so focused on her drawing that she’d forgotten her normal inhibitions. She turned her sketchbook to get a better angle to draw the figure’s torso.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she added, “but I kinda want that too. I know it sounds weird, but I wanna watch you have sex with her. No, I take that back. I wanna watch you fuck her. Like, really pound her and make her scream, like in a porn movie.”

My eyebrows shot into the air. When I recovered I did my best not to

betray myself with my voice. “Um, okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

“And don’t think I didn’t notice what you did in Tahoe,” she added without looking up.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“You said you wanted her to suck your cock, but you didn’t actually let her. You saved it for me, didn’t you?”

“Not on purpose. Not that I recall.”

“Well, you did. I notice things like that.”

“You do,” I agreed.

“She was a little annoyed.” Christy chuckled. “She’s funny when she doesn’t get her way. Anyway, she’s on a marketing campaign to get us to go all the way—you and me, I mean—so she can get what she wants. She’s so selfish sometimes.”

“She can be.”

“But she’s also really generous and caring. I mean, like tonight. She kept our dinner warm and brought it up to us, simply ’cause she loves us.”

“Mmm hmm.”

Christy lifted her pencil and closed her eyes for a moment. She opened them again and began drawing the figure’s face. I twitched in surprise when I recognized who it was: Sayuri. But instead of the woman we knew from next door, Christy had drawn the teenage girl from the snapshots of pre-war Kanagawa.

“I’ll have to get Wren to pose for the body,” she said absently as she studied the final sketch. “But I want the real Sayuri to pose for the modern one.” She turned the page and began a new drawing. “She’s really very beautiful. I know you probably don’t think so, ’cause she’s old, but—”

“No, I do. There’s beauty in everything, remember? Sayuri might not be Wren—not as far as her body goes—but she’s still a beautiful woman.”

“She is,” Christy agreed. “And she’s so… monoshizuka. Okuyukashī too, but I’m sure she’ll pose for me.”

I shook my head in clueless amusement.

Christy saw out of the corner of her eye. “Sorry,” she said. “I know I’m speaking Japanese. I don’t know the words in English. I mean, I do, but I can’t think of them now. I’ll explain later.”

She finished the sketch of the older woman, although the body was more stylized than the younger version, because she hadn’t actually seen the modern-day Sayuri nude. She titled the sketch in Japanese characters and

used a question mark in place of the last few.

“I don’t know how to say ‘Venus’ in Japanese,” she explained. “I’ll have to ask Sayuri. But the title of the series is going to be Venus of Kanagawa, 19-uh…”

“19-uh?”

“You know I stink at math. What’s fifty years ago?”

“1934.”

“Oh yeah, right! So it’s going to be Venus of Kanagawa, 1934 to 1984.”

“I like it.”

She grinned at me. Then she stifled a huge yawn.

I glanced at my watch. “Wow, it’s after midnight. Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“You can say that again.” She closed her sketchbook and smiled. “I like drawing with you. You make me forget everything else. I feel like I can do anything, as long as you’re with me.”

“I feel the same.” I nodded at the scattered building sketches on the table.

“I couldn’t have done that without you.”

She waved at her sketchbook. “And I couldn’t’ve done this without you.”

“We’re good for each other.”

“In lots of ways.” She smiled a secret little smile.

“I bet I know what you’re thinking,” I said.

“Maybe,” she teased.

“Bed?”

“Yes, please.”

“But not sleep.”

She feigned innocence. “How’d you know?”

“I know you, Miss Sex Kitten.”

“I like it when you call me that.”

I stood and held out a hand. “Then let’s go to bed, my little sex kitten.”

“I like it even more when you say that.”

“Good, ’cause I’ll be saying it a lot.”

“I should probably feel guilty,” she said at the bottom of the stairs. “I mean, we’re about to commit a sin.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I didn’t say that,” she squawked. “I just said it’s a sin. But I’m sure God understands. He gave me this stupid libido, after all.”

“I think your parents gave it to you.” I closed the bedroom door and

began unbuttoning my shirt.

“Well, who do you think brought them together?” She began undressing too. “Exactly! God. He did the same for us.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so. Besides, if God brought us together, it’s a sin to disobey His wishes.”

I wasn’t about to argue.

“That’s what I tell myself, anyway. It’s probably an even bigger sin to rationalize sleeping with my boyfriend, but not a mortal one. So I have to do what feels right.”

“And what’s that?”

“Give myself to you. Mind, body, and soul.” She did a little dancer’s pose that showed off the body in question.

“That’s a pretty nice gift,” I said. “And I like the package it comes in.

Even better, it’s already unwrapped.”

“And very tingly. Don’t forget that.”

“How could I?”

She reached between us and massaged my erection. “Mmm, someone’s ready.”

“Someone’s always ready for you.”

“I thank God for that, too. Every day.”

A couple of evenings later, Christy came into the bedroom and closed the door. She balled her fists, quivered as her frustration came to a head, and finally stomped her foot. The result was hardly seismic, but it grabbed my complete attention. I set my book on the nightstand and rolled to my feet in the same motion.

“What’s the matter?”

“Wren. Ugh! She’s driving me crazy. All she talks about is sex. That’s all she wants to do when we’re together. Doesn’t she understand that I need to draw her? I don’t have time to… you know… every time she’s horny! I have to make a maquette, and I can’t do it without the sketches.” She stomped again. “Ugh!”

I chuckled and gathered her into my arms. “You want me to talk to her?”

“Yes! No. Maybe… I don’t know!” She buried her face in my chest and let me hold her while she calmed down. “What I really want,” she said at last,

“is to get away for a while.”

“Sure. Where? Atlanta? Camp? The beach? It’s still a little cold, but we’ll make it work.”

She lifted her face. “Do you think we can go skiing? I had such a wonderful time in Squaw Valley when it was just you and me.”

“Absolutely! A chalet at Ober Gatlinburg?”

She scrunched her nose. “I’ve been there before, when I first came to Tennessee. The skiing… isn’t very good.”

“Okay. Then where? Vermont? That’s a pretty long flight. Maybe… six or seven hundred miles. We could do it, but…”

“How about West Virginia? Marianne was telling me about a friend of hers who owns an inn in Snowshoe.”

“Oh? So you’ve already been thinking about this?”

“Yes. So sue me! I know, you’d rather use me instead. But… can you use me in West Virginia?”

“I can use you anywhere,” I laughed.

“And you’re welcome to… as long as we’re nowhere near Wren.” She frowned grumpily. “I don’t think she’s getting enough. Sex, I mean. Trip’s so busy with his own classes that he’s… um… neglecting his duties.”

“Want me to mention something to him?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But don’t tell him I told you. I don’t want him to feel bad. But… if he gives her what she wants, maybe she’ll leave me alone and let me work. I have classes too, you know!”

“Some people need more sex than others.”

“Yeah, I know. Normally I’m one of them. But Wren needs, like, five people to keep her happy. It’s exhausting!”

“No kidding,” I said with a laugh. “Let me look at the sectional charts and figure out which airport—”

“I know already. It’s Elkins, West Virginia. It’s about an hour’s drive from Snowshoe. Someone from the inn can pick us up.” She grimaced. “Stop looking at me like that. I can plan things, when I need to. Besides,” she went on, “Marianne helped. She talked to her friend. And… um… she might’ve reserved a room for us this weekend.”

My poor eyebrows couldn’t go any higher.

“Just so you know,” Christy added, a little guiltily, “it wasn’t my idea to

book the room as Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.”

I burst out laughing. “God, I love Marianne!”

“So… we can go?”

“Are you kidding? And risk your sanity if we don’t? Not to mention Marianne’s displeasure? Oh, no, I’m not crazy enough to disappoint one Carmichael woman, much less two!”

“We aren’t really that bad-tempered,” she muttered.

“Of course you aren’t, because you always get what you want.”

“Well… yes, we do. So?”

“So we’re going to Snowshoe.”

We left on Friday afternoon. We’d told Trip and Wren that we wanted a little getaway for ourselves, as well as to give them some time alone. Wren had wholeheartedly supported the idea. As far as she was concerned, Christy and I needed to get on with the business of having sex, and a cozy mountain inn was the best place to do it.

The flight to Elkins took less than two hours, and true to Marianne’s promise, someone was waiting at the airport to take us to the inn. He was a quiet and polite seventeen-year-old named Damon, the son of the inn’s owners. He led us out to a new Ford Bronco and helped load our things in the back. Then he drove us an hour through snowy and winding mountain roads to the village of Snowshoe.

Christy quietly cleared her throat as we climbed down from the Bronco. I nodded and dug into my pocket for a tip.

“Thanks,” the young man said, “but I can’t take it.”

“Are you sure?”

“My parents won’t let me.” He shrugged and offered to help carry our luggage inside.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I can manage. Thanks for getting us here safe.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay.” He climbed into the Bronco and started the engine.

Christy and I headed inside, where a pretty blonde woman greeted us at the desk. Her blouse and sweater vest were modest but did little to hide her generous breasts, so I focused on the rest of her. She was about my parents’

age, and at first I thought she was the manager. Then I realized that her hair, makeup, and nails were all very expensive. Her jewelry was too, but her attitude really labeled her as old money, even better than a bank statement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hughes?” she said. Then she smiled at Christy. “I’m Marianne’s friend Carolyn. Nice to meet you.”

The ladies exchanged pleasantries while I filled out the old-fashioned register.

“Let me call Damon to take your luggage,” Carolyn said as she took a brass key out of its pigeonhole.

I started to demur, but Christy unobtrusively touched my hand below the level of the desk. “Thank you,” I said instead.

Carolyn rang a bell and her son appeared from the office. “Number five,”

she told him.

Damon nodded and picked up our ski and boot bags.

“Your room’s at the end of this hall,” Carolyn said to us. “We laid a fire.

All you have to do is light it. Damon will show you. Call the desk if you need anything else.”

“Thank you very much,” Christy said. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well. Enjoy your stay.”

Damon followed us down the hallway. The inn was only thirty or forty years old, but the architect and interior designer had done a good job recreating a rustic hunting lodge. The current owners had turned it into something from the pages of Architectural Digest or Town & Country.

I unlocked the door to number five and gestured Christy inside. Damon took a cue from me and followed her. He set our ski equipment on a little stone foyer next to the outside door. Then he showed me where the matches were, along with a stash of kindling and more firewood. He asked if we needed anything else and then left with a polite nod.

The room was larger than I thought it would be, with a big four-poster bed, a sitting area in front of the stone fireplace, and an armoire that also held a TV and VCR. The bathroom continued the upscale-rustic look, and Christy’s eyes lit up when she saw the cast iron claw-foot tub. It was plainer but larger than ours at home, meant for soaking after a long day.

The room cost a small fortune—the whole weekend was going to set me back more than I wanted to think about—but I still had an absurdly large balance in my savings account from the previous summer. Even so, I winced as the expenses added up in my mind.

Christy read my expression. “I don’t even want to know, do I?”

“No.”

“Thank you.” She slipped into my arms. “I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.”

“I know. My grandfather used to tell me to never put a price on women or children.”

She smiled. “Your grandpa or your papa?”

“My mom’s dad, Grandpa.”

“The Academy grad, right? I like him already. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“He’s a character. He’s also the one who told me to marry a woman with small hands.”

“I have small hands.”

“I know.”

“They make your johnson look big, although you really don’t need any help in that department. And speaking of which… I’ll make your johnson very big tonight. Only…”

“You need food first,” I chuckled.

“How’d you know?”

“I know you. It’s been almost three hours since you’ve eaten. And it’s almost dinnertime anyway.”

“Sometimes I really hate my metabolism.”

“Yes, but it gives you lots of energy for other things.”

She tightened her arms around me and breathed a deep sigh. “Mmm, it does.”

“I saw a nice-looking restaurant in the village,” I said after a moment. “A steakhouse, but I’m sure they’ll have something chicken or pasta.”

“Yes, please.”

“Do you want to dress up? I brought several ties, just in case.”

“And I brought a couple of dresses and some fancy lingerie. I think you’ll

— Hold on, why’re you shaking your head?”

“No underwear,” I said. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, but I went with it. “Garter belt and stockings only,” I added. “No bra, no panties.”

Christy swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

Dinner was a mixture of relaxation and anticipation. The service was good and the food excellent—filet mignon with a baked potato for me, shrimp scampi with broccoli casserole for her. We finished a bottle of wine and then shared Bananas Foster.

The whole time, Christy was acutely aware that she was nude under her dress. The fabric rubbed her nipples and made them stand out, and she squirmed in her seat every time I made a suggestive comment or gave her a look.

“Oh my gosh,” she said at last, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“How much more of what?”

“You know.”

“No, tell me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious. Tell me why you’re so worked up.”

The waiter appeared with the check and saved her from having to answer.

I handed him my credit card without even looking at the total. I’d have a heart attack later, I told myself. He left with the promise to return shortly.

“So tell me,” I repeated to Christy, “why’re you so… hot and bothered?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

She glanced around nervously. The tables nearby had other diners, but none were paying attention to us.

“Think about it while I sign the check and we get our coats.”

She nodded jerkily. Then she spent the next five minutes trying not to squirm as her imagination went into overdrive. She was a hundred pounds of simmering desire by the time we walked the short distance back to the inn and made it to the privacy of our room.

I wanted to take my time and hang up our coats, but she wasn’t in the mood to wait. She practically attacked me and would’ve bowled me over if my back hadn’t hit the door. I caught her in my arms, and she wrapped hers around my neck. Our kisses went from heated to urgent in a matter of moments.

I lurched upright and carried her toward the bed, where I threw her onto her back and held her wrists at her sides. Then I bit her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress. She moaned and writhed as I shoved her wrists under her ass and held them with one hand. I pushed her dress up to her waist and

spread her legs. Her smooth pussy was already wet with desire.

I didn’t bother with foreplay, and she probably would’ve exploded if I had. Instead, she arched her back and raised her hips to my mouth. Her shoulders pressed into the bed and her body bowed as I gripped her wrists and held her in place. I licked her slit and then sucked the hard little bead of her clit. Moisture coated my cheeks as she squirmed and twisted and tried to force more of her pussy into my mouth.

She came after only a few minutes, a quiet, intense orgasm that left her gasping and breathless. Her clit was incredibly sensitive afterward, so I planted gentle kisses on her thighs instead, and she slowly lowered her hips to the bed.

I released her wrists and crawled up her body. She ran her fingers through my hair as we kissed with lingering intensity. Then she sighed and held me close while her breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Oh my gosh,” she said at last. “I didn’t think I was going to make it from the restaurant.”

I chuckled, and she looked up at me with curious eyes.

“How’d you know?” she asked. “Did Wren tell you? I didn’t think I’d told her.”

“Tell me what?”

“That’s… one of my fantasies.”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“In public with no underwear.”

“You mean… you’ve never done that before?”

“Of course. But… never with a guy, and definitely not with you.” She smiled bashfully. “I wanted to do it for Halloween, but I was too chicken.

Besides, that dress was way too short.”

“Maybe you can wear it at home sometime, just for me.”

“Without underwear?”

“Of course.”

“Is that one of your fantasies?”

“It is now! Your Catholic school uniforms too, now that you mention it.”

Her smile turned sly.

“Lemme guess…?”

“Mmm hmm. I brought them back after New Year’s.”

“This is gonna sound crazy,” I said, “but I don’t want you to wear them until we’re ready to go all the way. I don’t know if I can explain, but—”

“I think I understand,” she said. “It’s because you like me shaved, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I pay attention, remember? And I’m starting to figure out what you like.

I mean, the blowjobs were easy. Every guy likes those, and you more than most.”

I nodded.

“The Alice dress and my uniforms are different. You want to watch, don’t you? As you… um… fuck me.”

“That’s exactly what I want.”

“I kinda figured.” She smiled up at me and caressed my face. “I like doing what you want. I just wish—”

“It’ll happen when you’re ready. In the meantime, you can—”

“Suck your cock? I thought you’d never ask.”

Later we lit the fire and then ran a hot bath. I sank into the tub and Christy reclined against my chest while I toyed with her water-slick nipples. My dick swelled with arousal, and she gave a little wriggle of contentment when it nudged the small of her back.

“This is another of my fantasies,” she said languidly.

“Taking a bath with a guy?”

“Yes, Mr. Literal. But really, anything with water. Even better if I can feel your erection.”

“Have you ever had sex in the tub?”

“Yes, but not like that. Not with a guy. Never… you know.”

“So,” I ventured, “what’re some of your other fantasies?”

“Oh, no! I’m going to need a lot more alcohol before I tell you those.”

“You don’t have to tell me the kinky ones. Start with the normal ones.”

She grinned coyly. “And what makes you think I have kinky ones?”

“Because I know you. You wouldn’t feel guilty about ‘normal’ fantasies, like doing it on the kitchen table or in the bath. You wouldn’t’ve kept them hidden either. So I figure you have some wild ones lurking in that sexy imagination of yours.”

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

“Like when I guess your secrets?”

“Yes.” Then she sighed and hugged my arms to her body. “But it makes me all tingly inside when you do, especially that you aren’t disgusted by them.”

“I have my own wild fantasies,” I said. “And when you’re ready to share, I will too. In the meantime, tell me some of your tamer ones.”

“Okay.” She thought for a moment. “You already know about going out in public with no underwear.”

“Mmm hmm. We’ll be doing that a lot, by the way. I like knowing you’re all hot and slippery under your clothes.”

“Mmm, you can say that again.”

I refrained with a self-indulgent grin.

“Another is doing it in water,” she added. “But you already knew that too.

And… I always wanted a guy to shave for me. I thought it’d be just once, and I’d have to promise things to get him to do it, but—”

“I like it.”

“Mmm, I know. Thank you. I love the way your penis looks. Your scrotum too. It’s so smooth and sexy. And I really love the way everything feels against my skin, especially my face. And… um…”

“Yes?”

“You know how I figured out what you want to do with the dresses? I mean, how I did it so quickly. Well… I sort of have this fantasy where you lift my skirt up, spread me open, and slide into me.” She thought about it for a moment and shivered with anticipation. Then she said, “I have a confession.”

“Oh?”

“I… like the way I look down there, especially without hair. I like spreading myself open to shave for you. I watch myself in the mirror. I don’t know why, but I’ve always thought women are pretty. Down there, I mean, and mine especially. I know that sounds vain, but— Hold on, why’re you laughing?”

“Because I’m the same.”

“Of course, you’re s’posed to like the way I look.”

“No, I’m talking about me. I’ve always liked the way dicks look. Mine in particular, but guys in general. I know it’s probably a little weird, but…” I shrugged.

“I like them too. Duh. And you have a really handsome one.”

“You have a pretty pussy.”

“Thank you. I’m… looking forward to introducing them to each other.”

“Me too.”

We fell silent and simply enjoyed each other’s company till we were thoroughly waterlogged.

“Are you ready to get out?” I said at last.

“Not really, but I suppose we should. Besides, I’m ready for the bed and firelight.”

“Mmm, romantic.”

“Give me five minutes?”

“Sure.” I eased from behind her and stood to reach for a towel.

“Five minutes,” she promised with a sultry look.

I pulled the bathroom door closed behind me and tossed another couple of logs on the fire. Then I banked the coals and closed the glass doors. I didn’t actually expect Christy to take five minutes, so I hung up our coats and tidied the room. When I ran out of things to pick up, I shed my towel, hung it from the coat rack by the outside door, and climbed into the tall bed.

The bathroom door opened about ten minutes later. Christy didn’t have Wren’s sense of showmanship, but she knew how light and shadow worked.

The room was dim, with only the flickering light from the fire. The bathroom light silhouetted Christy from behind and outlined her body through the filmy negligee. She paused a moment to let me get a good look before she casually flipped the switch and walked toward me. Unfortunately, the height of the bed spoiled her seductive entrance.

“Funny, ha ha,” she said when she realized she’d have to vault onto the mattress if she wanted to join me. She made it look easy, but it still wasn’t what she’d intended.

“Good thing you were a gymnast,” I teased.

“Good thing you love me.”

“It isn’t like in the movies,” I said. “Real life never is. The bed is too tall or your sweater catches on an earring or the zipper gets stuck or…

something.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, I love you.

That’s all that matters.”

She still frowned in disappointment.

“If it makes you feel any better, you look beautiful, you smell nice, and the thing with the bathroom light was perfect.”

“You liked that?”

“Yeah. It was one of those scenes I’ll keep in my memory a long, long time.” I pulled back the covers. “Someone else liked it too.”

“Oh he did, did he?”

“Oh, yes. He likes it even better now that you’re closer.”

“Well, at least I can make one of you happy.”

“You make both of us happy. He’s just more obvious about it.”

“I know.” She scooted closer and wrapped her fingers around my shaft.

“That’s why I like him so much. I never have to wonder what he’s thinking.

Unlike you…”

“No, I’m pretty simple too. I’m happy if you’re around, sad if you’re not.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled prettily. “Thank you.” She stroked for a moment and then said, a bit hesitantly, “I’ve been thinking about what you asked.”

“Oh?”

“About… my fantasies.”

“The vanilla ones or the kinky ones?”

“Both. And… I know the answer already, but I need to hear you say it. I

—”

“I won’t think you’re weird. I won’t laugh. And I won’t make fun of you.”

“I know. But thank you.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “Sometimes I get so embarrassed when I say things. Like, when I told you about Penthouse Variations. Or what I want you to do to Wren. The next day I realized what I’d said and was horrified. But then I thought back to how you’d reacted. You were so cool, so matter-of-fact.” She laughed softly. “I’m sure this is all normal to you. You’ve probably heard things like that dozens of times. Hundreds!”

“Not really. And not from you. That’s what makes it exciting.”

“I know.” She squeezed my shaft. “That’s why I like talking to you when you’re like this. He isn’t so good at hiding his emotions. So I can tell if you really like something or you’re just trying to make me feel normal.”

“Yeah,” I said, “he’s more honest than I am. Not that I lie to you—”

“I know.”

“—but you’re right, sometimes I hold things back so I don’t… um…

scare you.”

“Nothing you say will ever scare me.”

“You say that now, but—”

She cut me off with a curt headshake. “I trust you. I haven’t always understood you, but I never stopped believing. In you and me, I mean. I wanted to, though. Last summer. I tried to tell myself I didn’t care, I didn’t love you anymore. But I was wrong. I know that now.

“I don’t give up very easily,” she continued. “So I never stopped believing in us. Not when I found out you had two girlfriends. Not when you went after Wren. Not when you started seeing Daphne. Not when you dated all those other girls. Not even when you took up with Gracie.”

I blinked at the enormity of what she’d just said. She misread it, though, and thought my reaction had to do with Gracie.

“He just went soft a little,” she said. “I know it probably makes me a horrible person, but I’m glad you broke up with her. I really don’t like her. I don’t even like that you have classes with her. But I know you’ll never get back together with her.”

“No.”

“She’s too…” She smiled at her own private joke. “She’s too vanilla. You want someone kinkier. Like me. See? I can tell. You just got hard again.” She concentrated on stroking me. Then she said, “That’s why I’ll tell you about my fantasies. Some of them, at least. I can’t think of all of them. Not at the moment. They come and go. I’ll see something and it’ll remind me of one.”

I nodded. My own fantasies worked the same way.

“One I thought of tonight…,” she ventured. “It’s a bit kinkier. I… um… I want you to take me out in public, somewhere with lots of people but where we can find some privacy, and I can suck you. Like the mall, in one of the big department store restrooms.” She closed her eyes and imagined it.

“You can come on my face,” she said. “Then make me walk out to the parking lot with your semen still on me. Make me walk through all those people and know that any of them might see and know what I’d been doing.”

“That’s—” I cleared my throat. “That’s pretty hot.”

She blinked and returned to the present. Then she glanced at my hard-on.

“I can tell. And Gracie would never do anything like that, would she?”

“No way.”

“Would Leah?”

“Probably,” I admitted. “If I asked. But I don’t think she’d think of it herself.”

“How about Gina?”

“The same.”

“Kendall?”

“Boy, you’re really going through a who’s who of my ex-girlfriends.”

“I want to understand the competition.”

“They aren’t really the competition. You know that, right?”

“I know. Except for Leah, but even she isn’t.” She thought about it for a moment. “I guess my real competition isn’t your exes themselves, but the memory of them. Am I sexier than Gina? Am I kinkier than Kendall? Am I prettier than Leah?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

“You’re lying about the last,” she said, “but not the rest.”

“What can I say? You caught me. But in my defense, Leah’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”

“She really is. She’s so exotic.” She thought about her and then blushed.

“It’s a good thing I don’t have a penis.”

My eyebrows twitched. “So you have the hots for Leah?”

“I have a weakness for exotic brunettes. All my serious girlfriends.

Except Brooke.”

“Oh? Is she blonde too?”

“No, a redhead.” All of a sudden she laughed. “So you like the idea of me and a redhead?”

“Who told?”

“He did,” she said with a pointed look. Then she studied him for a long time as she stroked slowly. “I’ve never met a guy who could last as long as you without coming.”

“It’s ’cause we’re talking,” I said. “I get worked up, but never to the point of orgasm. So it’s like a volcano building up pressure.”

“Until it erupts in my mouth?” She grinned. “Yes, please.”

“In a minute,” I said. “Or five. Something you said made me think.”

“Mmm?”

“About Kendall. Remember I said I thought you were a lot like her?”

“How could I forget? That’s when I thought you were going to tell me you weren’t interested.”

“Um… no. I’m definitely interested.”

“I can tell!” she laughed. “But you were saying…? About Kendall?”

“Your fantasies. They’re just as wild as hers, but you don’t feel guilty about them.”

“Oh, I still feel guilty,” she said. “But less and less as I realize you like them too. It’s a relief to know there’s someone else like me. Still, I’ve had to hide them so long it’s going to take a while. And the Church doesn’t exactly condone a lot of what I want to do, so I have to figure out how to live with that guilt, but…” She thought about it for a moment and then shrugged.

“God brought you into my life for a reason,” she continued. “I have to believe He knows what He’s doing. So I’ve stopped listening to Sister Prune in my head. I listen to my heart instead.”

“And what’s it telling you?”

“That you’re right for me, kinky fantasies and dark secrets and all.”

“I think so too. About you, I mean.”

“Of course you do!” she laughed. “You’ve been kinky all along. And you don’t feel guilty about anything. Not sex, at least.”

“No.”

“So that’s why I like telling you things. And why I want to do things with you. Not just the vanilla things either. The kinky ones, too, like biting and spanking and… um… choking.”

My eyebrows rose with a question.

“I… really liked it in Tahoe,” she admitted. “When we were watching Wren and Trip through the—”

“Oh, I remember.” Then I chuckled. “We’re definitely going to have to talk about a safe word. For real this time. Not now, but soon.”

“You know me so well.”

“Mmm.”

“Okay, now tell me one of your fantasies.”

“Sure.”

“Ugh! It really bugs me how easy this is for you.”

“If it makes you feel any better, it isn’t that easy. I have a couple of fantasies that I’ve never told anyone. And just like you and yours, I’ve kept them hidden for so long that it’s going to take a while. To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever tell you. They’re… ‘Dark’ isn’t the right word. More like

‘taboo.’”

Her eyes widened with a dozen unasked questions.

“Yeah, exactly,” I agreed. “Anyway, let me think of some vanilla ones.

Most of them are jerk-off fantasies.”

She nodded. “Mine are like that. Sometimes I daydream in class or while I’m swimming laps, but most of the time it’s while I’m… you know.”

“Masturbating,” I said helpfully.

“I know the word. I just can’t say it easily. Be patient with me. All right?”

“Will do. So… my fantasies. Most of ’em have to do with blowjobs.”

“I never would’ve guessed.”

I shot her a grin for the deadpan delivery. “Some are simple,” I went on,

“like I want you to blow me while I’m driving or flying. Have to be careful with the last one, though. I remember my parents talking about a guy who crashed his plane while his girlfriend was giving him head. They were both killed.”

She blinked in shock.

“Exactly. So… blowjobs are fun, but not if they get you killed.”

“You can say that again.”

“Blowjobs are fun, but not if they get you killed.”

“I deserved that.”

“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, what’re some of my others? Well, I’d like to take pictures of you while you suck me.”

“Maybe,” she said cautiously. “As long as the pictures are only for us.”

“Yeah, definitely. Not something I’d carry in my wallet and show to strangers.”

“Um… no.”

“Along those lines—the blowjob, not the strangers—”

She grinned.

“—I want you to wear lipstick and blow me.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun. I can see how deep I can take you.”

“Mmm hmm. And it’s super-sexy to have a woman’s red lip-prints on my cock.”

“Mmm, we’ll definitely have to try that,” she agreed. “And I just thought of a few more of my own.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I wanna drink your semen from a shot glass. I don’t know why, but I think that’d be sexy, a come cocktail. Mmm, ‘cocktail.’ I love how it feels in my mouth.”

“I bet!” I laughed.

“I wanna eat your come too, like on waffles or strawberries or something.”

“We can do that.” I flashed her a grin and then grew serious. “But now I think you’ve done something no other girl has.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“You out-talked me. I’m done.”

She blinked in surprise.

“Talking about all the blowjobs did it. I’m gonna explode soon if you don’t start sucking. Now. Like, this instant.”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a grin. “My pleasure.”

We skied all day Saturday and returned to the inn exhausted but happy. We had another soak in the tub and then spent the rest of the evening in front of the fireplace on a pile of blankets from the bed. I was a bit sore the next morning, but my little space heater girlfriend was full of sunshine and eager to hit the slopes. Nothing seemed to slow her down.

After we showered—together, fun!—we packed our things, stored our luggage in a little room off the lobby, and skied until mid-afternoon. I paid the bill at the inn and signed the credit card receipt without flinching. It was a lot, but not as bad as I’d expected. Carolyn had given us a “friends of the inn”

discount. Still, it wasn’t something we could do every week.

Damon drove us back to the airport in the Bronco and helped me load the plane.

“Are you sure you won’t take a tip?” I asked. “Something? Anything?”

He shook his head but then his eyes betrayed him. I turned and followed his gaze, and he grinned shyly when I looked at him again.

“You wanna go flying sometime?” I asked.

“I couldn’t…”

“Nonsense. We’ll do it next time we’re here.” I shook his hand to seal the deal. “In the meantime, you wanna help me do the preflight inspection?”

“Could I?”

“Sure, c’mon.”

Christy beamed and watched while Damon followed me around the plane and listened intently as I explained what I was doing.

“And that’s it,” I said when we finished. “We’re ready to fly.”

“Seems simple enough,” he said.

“It is. It’s just habit and routine. You have to stay focused, though. You can’t pull over in the sky if something goes wrong.”

He nodded seriously.

“I’ll teach you more next time,” I said. “Sound good?”

“Yes, sir.”

I held out my hand again. “It was nice to meet you, Damon.”

“You too, Mr. Hughes.”

“Dude, I’m only a few years older’n you. Call me Paul.”

“Okay. Paul. It was nice to meet you.”

Christy joined us and gave him a kiss on the cheek that left him blushing.

“We’ll see you next time,” I said as he moved away from the plane to stand out of the way.

“That was very nice of you,” Christy said when I helped her onto the wing. “You’d make a good teacher.”

“You really think so?”

“Mmm hmm. You’re patient and you don’t talk down to people. Well, except me,” she added with a mischievous grin. “But that’s ’cause I’m short… or under you.”

My eyebrows flew up.

“I thought you’d like that.”

“What,” I teased, “you being short?”

“No. The part where I’m under you.”

“Mmm, I like that a lot. We’ll have to do it again tonight.”

“Yes, please.”

I waved to Damon and then climbed into the cockpit. Christy followed and I secured the door behind her.

“Ready, my sexy little copilot?”

“Yes, sir, captain, sir!”

On Monday Trip gave me an exhausted look as we changed into our workout clothes.

“I don’t know if I can do this today,” he said.

I chuckled with a complete lack of remorse or even sympathy.

“I’m serious, dude. Wren wore me out this weekend. My back is sore. My legs are sore. My arms. My shoulders. My neck. Even my jaw. Hell, I’m sore in places I didn’t know I had.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” I teased. “But if you aren’t going to lift, I’m going to do free weights. You can spot me. Hold on, you can spot me, right?”

“I think so. But don’t go crazy.”

“Yeah, all right.”

He tagged along and chatted as I went through a chest, shoulders, and arms workout. I’d forgotten how much I missed free weights. I’d also forgotten how many core muscles I used when I didn’t have a machine to guide the weights for me. Not surprisingly, I was fairly worn out myself by the time I finished.

After the gym we stopped by the boarding house. The crew was making good progress, although they still had a long way to go. We chatted about it on the way back to our own house, where Trip headed for his stereo and I went upstairs to shower.

Christy burst into the bedroom right as I bent to open a drawer for some clean sweatpants.

“Ooh, hello, Mr. Cute Butt!”

I shot upright and turned.

“And hello, Mr. Penis. Have you had a good day?”

“He says yes. A little lonely, but better now that you’re here. How was yours?”

“Good. But much better now. I like coming home to our room. Even better when my sexy boyfriend and his penis are here.”

“You just like saying ‘penis.’”

“Mmm hmm. It feels good in my mouth.” She tossed her things on the bed and twirled into my arms. I lifted her into the air, and she wrapped her arms and legs around me. I didn’t know how far she’d let me take things, but I shut the door firmly with my foot, just in case.

“Oh?” she said. “Do I need to ask what you’re thinking?”

“I’m always thinking about it. So are you, and you know it.”

“Guilty as charged. Sometimes I can’t wait to get home to see you.” She grinned. “My sketchbook lately is full of doodles… of you.”

“Just my face?” I teased. “Or other parts as well?”

She blushed. “Remind me to wring Wren’s neck for telling you about my secret sketchbook.”

“No, I think it’s kinda cool. I told you how I feel about dicks in general. I don’t mind looking at them. So… I’m curious to see this sketchbook of yours. Again, I mean. And I want to know about the guys behind the penises,

so to speak.”

“You are so strange sometimes. Most guys… Well, you aren’t like most guys.”

“Um… no.”

“And that’s why I like you. No, I take that back. That’s why I love you.

I’m head over heels.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“I know.” She grinned and kissed me impulsively, and I grunted when she tried to climb higher on my body. “What’s the matter?” she asked in alarm.

“You aren’t exactly heavy,” I said, “but I did a tough workout today. Free weights. The first time in a while. So my abs and arms are burning.” She started to disentangle herself, but I held her close instead. “Just let me sit down and rest your weight.” I sank to the bed and lowered her to my thighs.

“There. Much better.”

“Good. Now, where were we? Oh yes…” She kissed me again, long and lingering and less urgent. “Mmm, I like doing that.”

“Me too.”

“Not as much as I like doing other things,” she added with a grin, “but if you’re too worn out—”

“Whoa, there! I didn’t say that. Besides, you know me.”

“I do!”

“Not yet,” I teased. “You have to wait till the wedding.”

She rolled her eyes but then smiled affectionately.

“I had fun this weekend,” I said.

“Me too.”

“So did Trip and Wren. He was too sore to lift with me this afternoon.”

“Wren could barely swim this morning. She just floated there till I was done. She said they did it in every room in the house. Well, except ours and upstairs.”

“That’s a lot of rooms,” I said.

“You can say that again. They did it twelve times.” Her grin turned coy.

“I didn’t tell her that you could do that in one night.”

“Ha! But no, not twelve in one night.”

“You’ve done it before. The night we spent at your parents’ house.

Before we flew to San Diego.”

I thought back. “That wasn’t twelve,” I said with more confidence than I

actually felt. “More like seven or eight, I think.”

“Still, a lot.”

“True. But there’s a huge difference between having sex and getting a blowjob. You do most of the work for a blowjob. It’s mutual or the guy’s doing more in sex.”

“But… that’s your job.”

My eyebrow twitched.

“Mmm, I can’t wait.” She closed her eyes to imagine it. “Maybe I’ll sketch you sometime, after we go all the way. Only, I’ll probably be too distracted.” She fell silent and let the fantasy continue until she moaned softly.

“You’re watching a porno in your head,” I teased, “aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it.” She pretended to pout. “I told you, I have a wild imagination.”

“You can say that again. And I’m just starting to figure out how wild.” I grinned a suggestion at her. “Do you need a little attention before dinner?”

She thought about it. “No, I’m probably okay for the moment. But I definitely want to make a date with you later tonight. Your penis especially.”

“It’s a date. Or a not-date. Whichever works.”

“Is it still a date if we go straight to bed instead of going out first? I mean, you’re the word expert. What do you think?”

“I think anything that involves you and my penis is a date. But if you don’t want to fool around now, we’d better change the subject… or you won’t have much choice in the matter.”

Her eyes flashed. “Will you hold me down and force me? Ooh, that sounds like fun!”

“Oh, boy. Someone really needs some attention.”

“I always need attention from you. But you’re right, we should probably change the subject.”

“Good. Thanks. Let’s talk about Snowshoe. I want to go again—”

“Me too,” she agreed.

“—but I don’t think we can do it this weekend.”

“We kind of have classes and homework and projects.”

“Exactly. So I was thinking… the weekend after next?”

“I’d like that. Do you want me to call Marianne?”

“No. I’ll call and make the reservation. The less she knows…”

“Um… she knows exactly what we’re doing. I mean, it was her idea.”

“I know it was her idea, but—”

“No, you don’t understand,” Christy insisted. “Everything was her idea, not just the trip.”

My eyebrows rose.

“I… kinda tell her everything. She’s like the big sister I never had. She’s an only child, so I’m the little sister she never had.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Right. So we talk about… um… everything.” She blushed. “I know more about Harry’s sex life than I ever imagined.”

My eyebrows did their thing again, even higher.

“It was weird at first,” Christy said, “but now I think it’s normal. Yeah, he’s my brother, but he’s so much older that I never really thought of him like that. He’s always sort of been like an uncle. So it isn’t gross or anything when we talk about it. It also helps that she’s a lot like me. She likes… you know… giving head.” All of a sudden she laughed. “She says she’d probably have ten kids if she didn’t! You can’t get pregnant if you swallow,” she added cheerfully.

“Lucky for you.”

“Mmm, lucky for all of us. Women, I mean.” She laughed again. “Brooke and I used to joke about it. She doesn’t like fellatio as much as I do—I don’t think anyone likes it as much as I do—but it’s all we did back in high school.

So…”

“I think I’d like to meet this girl.”

“Is that so?” Christy teased, her eyes bright with silent laughter.

“Would you mind?”

“Hold on… you aren’t talking about just ‘meeting’ her, are you?”

“No.”

“I probably shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, you’re a guy.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

“Kinda hard not to. But you’re out of luck. With Brooke, I mean. She has a serious boyfriend.”

“Hypothetically, then. Would you mind sharing?”

“Her or you?”

“Either. Both.”

She thought about it. “I don’t think so. I mean, I already know I’m going to share you with Wren. It’s not a question of ‘if,’ but ‘when?’”

I nodded cautiously.

“And I’ll probably share you with Leah. I really like her, and Wren says that she and Mark have an open relationship. And before you ask, yes, I know exactly what that means. I’m not ready to do it, but at least I’ve thought about it. It still kinda scares me, the thought of you doing it with another woman, but… like you said, it’s just sex, especially with Wren.”

“It is.”

“Besides, I’ve been thinking about your parents. Hers too. They’re basically divorced, even though they still live together. She has her life and he has his. I don’t want that for you and me. I want something more like your parents have, especially with Susan.”

“I want that too.”

“I thought you would. Only, I don’t know how it’s going to work with Trip. He’s cute and all, but not like you. He just doesn’t… um… ‘do it’ for me. Please don’t tell him I said that. He’s a really attractive guy, and funny and talented, but… he isn’t you.” She paused and thought about it. “I guess that’s one of the things that helped convince me you’re right, that sex and love are different.”

I nodded.

“I love you, and I love Wren, but it’ll be just sex with Trip. I don’t know if I can really go through with it, but I’m willing to try.”

“You might be surprised.”

“You’re probably right. Wren says he’s really good in bed.” She looked down and blushed. “We… um… sort of compare notes. What he does that she likes, what you do that I like, et cetera.”

“Is that what you and Marianne do?”

“Sort of, but not so explicit. We talk about general stuff, like try this or do that. We also talk about what it’s like to be married. Lately she’s been giving me suggestions for what kind of things you might like. She doesn’t know what I’m really like, though. She thinks she’s giving me wild ideas, but most of them are pretty normal. I mean, stuff like taking a bath together or wearing sexy lingerie. They’re good ideas, and they get me excited and all, but nothing like what I really want to do with you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “That’s going to take a lot longer than we have tonight, and a lot more alcohol. I know you don’t like it when I drink and get flirty, but—”

“I don’t have a problem when you drink and get flirty,” I said. “I just

don’t want you to feel guilty afterward about anything you did while you were drunk.”

“You don’t want what happened after the Halloween party,” she said. “I get it. And I haven’t done that since, have I? Exactly. I still feel guilty, but I’ve started to do what you do—I think about it before I run away.” She shrugged. “It also helps to talk about things before we do them. Then I can decide if I really want to do it or if I just think I want to. Like going all the way. I know I’m not ready, but I’m working up to it with all these other things.”

“Like spending the weekend in Snowshoe and telling me about your fantasies.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “And speaking of which… I thought of something else this afternoon.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm hmm. I had to go to the bookstore today, so I passed that little newsstand place. I noticed the top rack, where they sell the girlie magazines.

Well, I was thinking… What if we buy a couple of them? We can look at the pictures and read the letters.”

“Sounds like fun. What were you thinking? Playboy? Penthouse? Not Hustler, I hope.”

She immediately scrunched her nose. “Uh-uh. But definitely the first two.

And… um… Penthouse Variations?”

“Sure, if they have it. Hold on… If you were just there, why didn’t you buy them?”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“They’re girlie magazines,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“So?”

“No. Absolutely not. This is your job. You’re the man.”

“I don’t recall in the Man Handbook where it says it’s my job to buy girlie magazines.”

“It is. It says so on page two,” she said with total conviction. “Right after it says it’s your job to do whatever your wife or girlfriend asks.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmm hmm. It’s in the Handbook.”

“Right,” I agreed with a skeptical grin.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she offered. “If you buy the magazines, I’ll look at

them with you.”

“You want to look at them anyway!”

“I know, but… I can’t buy them. I just can’t. I know you don’t like bargaining for sex, so lemme see if I can come up with something to offer in exchange. Gimme a minute.” She thought about it and then brightened. “I know! I can show you my sketchbook. The one with all the other guys.”

“I knew which one you were talking about,” I said dryly.

“Maybe we can take it to Snowshoe with us. I’ll tell you about my first time—giving head, I mean—and my ‘group secret.’ I’m sure it isn’t as exciting as yours— Ooh, maybe it is. Mr. Big certainly thinks so.”

“He does,” I agreed. “And… we can’t wait till later.”

She feigned innocence. “For what?”

“A blowjob. Don’t get me wrong,” I added, “we’re still going to have our not-date, but—”

“We need a pre-date now?”

“Afraid so.”

She smiled and kissed me. Then she sighed. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you.”

“You were a bad girl.”

“And you’re my reward.”