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I winced at the accusatory tone. I’d been a little busy being naked. Not like I could exactly say that to her. “I know. We came into town so I could get a signal. We didn’t have one in the cabin.”
“He could have killed you or tied you to a radiator and kept you. No one would have been the wiser, you know. I even went to see Parker and he didn’t have an exact address for me to go find you.”
“Okay, okay. Bring it back down.” So maybe she’d been at DEFCON 1 after all. Geeze. “I’m fine. I just got…a little distracted. And what do you mean you went to Parker?”
“Well, he was the next logical step if I couldn’t talk to you.”
“You know it’s Christmas Eve.”
“I don’t care. Serial killers still kill on Christmas, you know that.”
I tipped my head back. “Melinda Hendrix, get a hold of yourself.”
“I worry.”
“I know you do, and I’m sorry. It couldn’t be helped.” I tucked my fingers under the edge of the fingerless hem of the gloves. “I’m fine.” More than fine. I’d never felt more in tune with someone in my life. At least body-wise. Today had given me a lot more insight into the man behind the…well, the cock. Rude and crude, but definitely on target.
“I’m assuming your cherry has been thoroughly popped.”
“Wrapped up, tossed into the lake, and died in a watery grave.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“It wasn’t until just now.”
“I’m jealous. Like a lot. I lost my cherry a long time ago, but I’m pretty sure the tree grew back. Can you re-virginize?”
I snorted. “Don’t think that’s a thing.”
“Hey, the holes in your ears can close. Why not?”
“Pretty sure that’s totally different.”
r /> “Not really. Earring post or orgasm-inducing-cock. Kinda the same thing.”
“I can say, with complete candor, that it is not the same thing.” I wiggled the handle of my bag down to my elbow so I could shove my hand under my armpit. Holy crap, it was cold.
“Now you’re just bragging.”
I nibbled on my lower lip. “Maybe.” And I hoped to be bragging again in an hour or so.
Dear Diary, today I got fucked until my teeth rattled. It was glorious.
“Yeah, I don’t like you anymore.” Mel blew raspberries into the phone. “Are you sure you’re okay with him for Christmas? I mean, I know it was bad enough that your mom escaped the New York cold for freaking Vegas this week, but to spend Christmas with Scrooge? Seems cruel.”
“It’s fine. Truly. We’re actually having a lot of fun. He likes to pretend he’s a cross between the Grinch and Scrooge, but he’s not that bad.”
“Oh, you’ve got it bad.”
“I do not.”
“You so do. Please be careful, okay? I know you’ve got raging hormones talking. Orgasms make people do very dumb things. That’s why there are just as many weddings as there are divorces in Vegas.”
“We’re not getting married. We’re just…enjoying each other.”
“Well, wrap that shit. I don’t need you to enjoy him with a baby.”
“We’re being safe, Mom.”
