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“Now I’ve got you,” he shouted.
“I don’t think so,” I yelled back.
He pressed his erection against my leg. “Don’t you want some of this, baby?”
“Not really, no.”
“Oh, c’mon.” His voice became whiny. “Don’t be a tease, mama.”
He thrust himself repeatedly against me.
“I said no.”
“You don’t mean it.”
“Yes, I do.”
He kept thrusting.
“Don’t. I’m warning you.”
“C’mon, mama. Give it up.”
He held me with both hands and was humping my leg now. The party continued around us. No one seemed to care. Or notice.
“For the last time. Stop doing that.”
“Please, baby. Please …”
I reared my leg back and kneed him in the groin. He shuddered and sank to the ground. Tears sprang to his eyes.
The music continued to thump. People ran around heedless.
I squatted beside him and knelt down to holler into his ear. “I’m not your baby or your mama. And you should’ve stopped the first time I said no.”
He lay curled in a fetal position and gazed at me with hurt puppy-dog eyes, trying to catch his breath. The music pounded mercilessly. Guests rushed past the fallen form, as if he were a broken and forgotten toy.
Above the din, I heard a sharp clapping behind me. Against the rhythm of the music. I turned to see a woman applauding. Tall, blonde, a looker, boobs out to here.
I stood and raised my voice to address her. “I take it you approve?”
“I want to thank you. You saved me the trouble.”
“Oh. And you are?”
“Lisa Fennimore. Junior’s fiancé.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
For a moment, words failed. I stuck my hand out. “Sam McRae. It’s nice to meet you.” Your fiancé is an idiot.
Lisa smiled, but without mirth. “I know what you’re thinking. You must think I’m some kind of sap to put up with Junior’s shit.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking.” Not in those exact words.
Lisa drew in a long breath as if poised to dive underwater. She closed her eyes and blew the breath out through pursed lips. She looked at Junior, on the ground still clutching his crotch, and shook her head.
“C’mon,” she said. “There’s someone who’d like to meet you.”
