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And of course his words remind me of how they fucked me less than an hour ago and heat spills in my cheeks. My insides clench, the tips of my breasts tighten.
He gives me a knowing look, but the doorbell rings again.
Murphy’s Bell.
“I’ll get it,” Jet says, and crosses the living room to open. It hits me as I watch him go that for the first time since I met him, he’s not dressed all in black. His jeans are blue and his sweater gray.
“Looks like Jet’s mourning time is over?” I whisper to Joel, happy for Jet, and shocked I didn’t notice earlier.
“Holy shit, you’re right.” He grins widely. “That’s a damn good sign. He must be feeling better.”
I think something changed in Jet the night Joel gave over control to him. I wonder if Joel noticed.
“Hey, Riddick.” Jet high-fives his cousin who’s followed inside by a blonder version of himself. Has to be his younger brother, Xavier. “Glad you came, man.”
“Sorry I left like that last time.” Riddick’s mouth twists in a grimace. “How’s things?”
Gawd, that’s one pretty family. Sharp jaws, long-lashed eyes, soft lips, whipcord bodies and broad shoulders… Between them and Jet, they could sell igloos to Eskimos. To Eskimo women, to be precise. And probably the men too.
Hell, I’d buy an igloo off them.
And from the looks of it, so would Brylee, who gasps, staring openly at Riddick.
The cat yawns.
“Hi, Riddick,” she says.
Brylee, not the cat.
“Hi, Brylee,” he replies, and would you look at that, he remembers her name, too. He really seems to like her. A pity she’s so hung up on this Ryan Prince guy.
Anyway… we’re all here now, except for my parents, and this time when the doorbell rings, I flinch.
Time to face the escorts…
***
“Hello boys and girls!” Mom waves madly as she enters the apartment, dressed in a white fur coat and her lips coated in deep red lipstick.
What the hell happened here?
Her transformation, complete with fifties hairdo and old-fashioned high heels shocks me for a moment, the moment she and Dad take to enter.
I step back, watching them mutely. By the time I regain the power of speech, Mom is happily chatting away to Holden who’s mainly nodding and drinking his wine, while Dad is piling up a plate full of snacks from the table.
At least I see no escorts standing around. That’s a relief.
Mom turns to Jet who’s been talking to Brylee and Simone—the cat is hunting wildebeests underneath the table, apparently—and I hurry closer, as if I can prevent her from embarrassing me.
And…
“I read somewhere,” Mom says, “that frequent ejaculation protects you from prostate cancer.”
Okay. This is worse than I thought. I open my mouth as I halt beside Jet, casting about for something to say.
“I knew it,” Jet says. “That’s why I jack off twice a day.”
“Only twice?” Mom wags a finger at him. “That might not be enough.”
