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“Wait a second,” Fiona said.
“Are you asking me what my rate is for… sex?” I asked.
Fiona gasped.
Demi laughed and nodded. “Yes, I am. Just curious. That’s all.”
“Demi,” Fiona said. “What has gotten into you?”
“It’s the wonderful sexual tension between you two,” she confessed.
I looked at Fiona and nodded.
Fiona narrowed her gaze.
Oh, I like that look.
She moved toward me. Slowly. A little seductive.
She wrapped her left arm around my right arm.
“I don’t share, Demi,” Fiona said. “Riff is my muse. My muse and my love.”
I looked down at Fiona.
Your… love? What?
“Damn,” Demi said. “I’m about thirty years too late, aren’t I?”
“You don’t want to know what she’s capable of when she takes her clothes off,” I said.
Fiona punched my stomach.
I groaned.
“You two work well together,” Demi said. “And the artwork works very well. I hope to see more.”
“Oh, I’m sure we will be making plenty more,” I said.
Fiona punched me again. “Never again.”
“Don’t stifle good art,” Demi said.
“Hear that?” I asked. “It’s my duty to pleasure you, Fi.”
“Of course, if you don’t want to…” Demi said.
“What?” Fiona asked.
Demi grinned.
“Are you offering to have me be your muse?” I asked.
“Never,” Fiona said.
“You two are just adorable together,” Demi said.
A phone rang in the back of the gallery.
