Page 31 of Echoes of Him

More groaning ensues because in all seriousness, being woken suddenly at this time of night is simply uncalled for.

“What,” I grumble, sitting up in slow motion. My voice is still thick with sleep as I throw back the covers. My water glass is empty on my nightstand, which makes sense really, being that my bladder is punishingly full. In hindsight, it could be all the wine I drank with dinner, but for now, let’s just blame it on the water.

“I just had the most incredible sex,” Andrea gushes.

Pushing myself slowly up in the bed, I press my heels and my free hand hard into the mattress so that my back is now resting firmly against the headboard. “Who is this?”

“Very funny. I think I’m in love.”

Okay. Now she’s got my attention. Well played little cousin, well played. Sitting up even straighter, I fold my legs beneath me yoga style. “In love? Andrea, seriously?”

“Maybeloveis a slight exaggeration. But I just had the best sex of my life, Sienna. I kid you not; Mr. Beaumont is amazing in bed. I’m talking fireworks and unicorns and furry woodland creatures. That kind of amazing. He’s in the shower right now, so I can’t talk long, but I think he might stay the night, as in the whole night. That’s a first for me. Am I ready for this? ”

“Oh honey,pleasetell me you didn’t call him Mr. Beaumont while you were actually doing it.”

Andrea bursts out laughing. “It may have been screamed once or twice in the throes of passion, but for the most part I just called him by his first name. Ben. Benjamin. Benny. Benji. Benvolio. You see where I’m going with this.”

“That’s disturbing.”

“And his cock…” She makes a chef’s kiss sound. “It’s a thing of beauty, Sienna. I’m talking ten whole inches of penile perfection.”

“Andrea,” I groan, grabbing a pillow from the other side of the bed, burying my face in it.

“And it tilts slightly to the left. Did I mention that? You know how much I love a leftie,” she says, and I can almost see her grinning through the phone.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

And that’s the truth. For reasons I’ll never be able to explain. Sad, really. But the long list of things my cousin‘does not need to sharewith me’is growing exponentially by the minute.

“I think he might be the one, Sienna.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I tell her with a long-winded sigh. It’s really late. Or really early. However you want to look at it. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I’ve had, like, a gallon of coffee, and, I don’t know, the sun is up, and the birds are singing?”

“Okay.”

“I’m glad you had a good night.”

“I totally did.”

“And I’m glad Mr. Beaumont is a lefty.”

“Me too.” She giggles and then hangs up.

As a rule, once you reach this point in the evening—far too late to get a good night’s sleep, way too early to get up and on with your day—it stands to reason that you just have to accept your fate.

I’ve tossed and turned for the past couple of hours, and I still can’t get back to sleep.

Thank you very much, Andrea.

She’s probably had round two, and possibly round three, showered, made a snack, and fallen asleep in the arms of a guy she’s totally into.

And no, I’m not the slightest bit jealous. Good for her. I mean, sure I’m all about sisterhood, girl power, worshipping the inner goddess, and all that crap, but where does that leave me?

I’ll tell you where it leaves me… staring up at the ceiling at two o’clock in the morning with a wandering mind that won’t settle and a libido that hasn’t been satisfied in a really long time. Sadly, my sex drive didn’t cease and desist along with my divorce.

Like I said. Not jealous at all.

My vagina on the other hand…

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