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Nick chokes on air. “No, ma’am. I don’t have that problem at all,” he replies, laughter laced in his voice.
“I didn’t think so. You look like a man who’s packing a decent sized meat-club. I have an eye for these things, you know.” Grandma nods repeatedly.
“I bet you do.”
“Come on, Emmie. Let’s grab a bite to eat. I’m starving,” Grandpa says, taking my Grandma by the hand.
“Engaging in the sex always makes him hungry,” Grandma whispers as she turns his way. “Let’s head home to eat dinner. Brian is going to Jaime’s for a while. I bet we have plenty of time for another pickle tickle.”
A gasp slips from my mouth and I swear my jaw hits the ground. You’d think I was used to their sexual banter, but I’m not. I’m never prepared.
“I’ll take a pill,” Grandpa assures with a kiss on her forehead as they shuffle off to the elevator.
We stand there for a few more moments and watch them step onto the car. “Are we catching the elevator?” Nick asks.
“Nope, we’ll wait for the next one. I don’t trust them not to start rubbing…things.”
“Good point.”
Together, we stand there and wait as the door to the elevator closes, sending my grandparents down to the ground floor. After we wait a few more minutes, I finally walk over and push the button for the car. Inside, neither of us speaks as we start to move downward two floors.
Nick reaches for my hand, wrapping his large, warm hand around mine and bringing it to his lips. “I was thinking, maybe you’d like to come over tonight. I can make dinner,” he suggests.
“I like dinner,” I reply casually.
“I suspected as much. Then maybe afterward, we can watch a movie or some television.”
“What do you know, I like movies.”
“Good to know. Then I thought we could wrap up our sleepover with a pickle tickle,” he says, his hazel eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.
“What a coincidence. I really, really like pickle tickles,” I state boldly as I wrap my arms around his chest and plaster my body against his. He’s hard against my lower stomach, as he grips my ass and grinds against me. At the rate we’re going, we’ll be lucky to make it to dinner.
“Me too, Meggy Pie. Me too.”
