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This cannot be happening. In here. Right now!
I watch out of the corner of my eye as Summer studies us, her eyes scrunched together. All four of us.
She’s taking everything in. She’s not stupid. She knows exactly what the women are asking for and what the guys are offering.
I wonder what she’s thinking? Does the thought intrigue her? Is that what she wants too? Does she know I’ve been a part of it? We’ve all been a part of it since the beginning?
Her gaze meets mine. I don’t move.
I wait.
She has to show me what she’s thinking. What she’s feeling.
What she wants.
Seconds pass like a gong, bong, bong, bong…
She’s turning this all over in her mind, I can see it, rolling it over on her tongue, trying to decide if it’s real or fantasy.
It’s very real, my sweet Summer.
“Well, you boys certainly do take care of your customers, it’s so nice to see you working together so well,” Mrs. Merriweather comments.
Summer looks at Snake, then Bull, then Gringo. Then her eyes return to me.
Is that what you want, Summer? Do you want all of us to worship your body? Once. Just once.
“A lot of our special customers prefer it that way, ma’am,” Bull answers Mrs. Merriweather.
“Um,” Gwendolyn’s shy voice quivers. “Always?” she asks.
Snake studies her for a second, contemplating her, and her question.
“No, not always,” he finally gives her the answer she was waiting for.
She nods her head slowly. “Oh…okay,” and lowers her gaze.
Summer tilts her head to the side.
She’s thinking.
She nods once too, looks into my eyes, then turns away.
What does that mean? You understand? You accept? You’re done with me? You want all of us? WHAT?
You really are a mystery; aren’t you Summer?
Tits McKoy hasn’t stopped squirming, she’s obviously turned on. “I’ll be over to make, um, an appointment.”
I stand. “That’s great.” I answer her. “One of the guys will be sure to make it for you. I have to get to work.” To Mrs. Merriweather and Gwendolyn, “Take care of Summer while these barbarians are here. It was a pleasure having coffee with you.”
“Don’t be a stranger, Rock. Your chair is always waiting for you right ‘ere,” Mrs. Merriweather beams as she pats the seat I just vacated. Gwendolyn blushes. Again.
When I get to the door and have it pulled open, I turn to Summer. “Tell Joe to come see me when he finishes here.”
She looks surprised. At what?
Because I’m not going to her? I’m not throwing sexual innuendos at her? There’s no invitation to make an ‘appointment’?
What I want to do to you doesn’t require an appointment.
“Sure, yeah, I’ll tell him. Thank you again, Rock,” she says quietly.
When I leave, I’m frustrated.
That whole thing could have fucked everything up.
Or it could have done me a huge favor.
