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“Think we can sneak off at some point?” I asked.
Her mouth quirked. “Don’t know. I hope so, but...”
“Yeah,” I said, very clearly disappointed. “How’d it go last night?”
She sighed. “Oh, fine. Although...I think Cass might truly come unhinged.”
“What happened?”
“She’s convinced she’s jinxed, said that everything feels wrong. One minute she’s laughing, next she’s crying.”
“She’s not pregnant, is she?”
“Oh, God. No. She actually started her period.”
I flinched. “Good to know. She seems all right tonight.”
We looked in her direction as she bounced and rapped and wiggled around like she was eighteen and not twenty-eight.
“I hope so,” Jessa said.
“How’d it go with your mom?”
Something in her shuttered closed. “Fine. You were right—she just wanted to talk at me.”
I frowned. “She didn’t say anything shitty?”
“She always says something shitty, but no. She was fine.”
Two fines? Felt like a lie.
I didn’t push it.
I was too worried about what I’d find out if I did.
“Well, good. I’m glad you talked to her.”
“Me too.”
The conversation stalled. My concern rose.
“I hate that my last nights won’t be with you,” she said, toying with one of my dick necklaces.
“Not nearly as much as I hate it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“At least you have Cass. I just have my asshole dog to keep me company, and he’s a terrible conversationalist.”
She chuckled. “We’ll have the wedding night together.”
“Good. Rest up and eat a good dinner. You’re gonna need your energy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah, now don’t start that, Duchess, or we’re both in trouble.”
She ground her hips a little harder, her pussy pressed against my thigh. “What? Shouldn’t I call you sir?”
