“Longest elevator ride ever.” She moans the way she does when her nub gets wet and swollen.
“You were wearing a white blouse with a black pencil skirt. I remember school girl on the outside and dirty babe on the inside.” Man, oh man. I wanted her. If I had any idea she’d become my wife, I might not have slapped her ass and been such a cave man but good God, she begged for more and I had to oblige.
“Sugar.” Precum lubricates my swollen willie and I pump.
“I saw how big you were and I wondered if the condom would fit.” She pants as sweat rolls off my chest and my balls tighten.
“Hard and fast. That’s what you said.”
“Wait for me.” Her voice grows hoarse.
“Pinch your tits for me darlin’. Feel me deep inside you. Know I’m coming with you.”
“Ah, ah.” She fades out.
Letting go of my cell, I give myself one long tug and come with a long string of fluids. Heart racing, I pick up my electronics, and put them to my ear. “Babe?”
“Babe’s not here right now. Leave a message and she’ll call you back as soon as she returns to earth.”
I snicker. “Phone-sex while remembering first-time-revenge-sex is not as satisfying as in-person-sex, but still noteworthy.”
My wife laughs in the breathy way she does after an orgasm. “Agreed. Hey tough guy, I need to get some zees, and so do you.”
“Night sugar, I love you.”
“Love you, too, bye.”
With her on my mind, the trauma of the day dissolves, and I sleep soundly. If I dream of Afghanistan, I surely don’t recall.
Chapter 4
Sam
I wake while dreaming of Dubai and the night I jumped out a second-floor window. It wasn’t one of my smartest moves but it got the job done and everyone escaped without harm. Well, all except the bad guys.
Catrina curls her claws in my hair, pulls, and presses her wet nose to mine. “Mew, mew, mew.”
“I’m coming.” My brain lost in the foggy past, I start to make coffee, then stop.
What if I’m pregnant?My research revealed I should curb my caffeine intake. Cursing, I wander to the bathroom and stare at the boxes of pee sticks. No matter how much I want a cup of joe, there is no way I’m doing a test right before work. My cousins read me like a book. I’ll be forced to confess and life as I know it will cease to exist.
Picturing all possible scenarios, I feed my meowing feline, scoop three teaspoons of instant decaf into a cup, and mentally count how much alcohol I may have ingested since my last period. Thankfully, I’ve been busy and had no time to party.
A message notification pings my phone, startling both me and Cat.
Slate: Call me later for details on the WC
Me: WC?
Slate: Wealthy Client
Me: Will do. TY
I don’t know how our detective agency would’ve survived without his help. Hoping our newest customer will bringSuds and Samto a higher tax bracket, I locate my clothes. Recently, Aunt Marion has insisted everyone wear black shirts and black slacks. I only wash hair so I don’t see how it matters, but I need to stay in her good graces. Some of my best leads come from her salon.
The sides of my sore boobs complain as I tug on my t-shirt. I’m on the pill. I can’t be pregnant, right? Except… hmmm. The last time I visited my GYN, he might’ve mentioned something about using a condom for a few weeks but I didn’t think it was a big deal.
Shit. Without coffee, life sucks. I log into my computer at my office-slash-kitchen table and read my emails. After deleting a shitload of spam, I shutdown, note the time, and make haste. Right off my kitchen door, I pause in the old dentist’s reception area and picture a nursery. Nope. Even if we tore down a wall, the unused space wouldn’t work. Where could we put a crib? I guess we could place it under the bedroom loft but that is our only storage area.
