She glances down at my willing willie. “You might want to zip him up.”
Then, she presses the buzzer and leans her luscious boobs over the counter to speak. “Hi. C’mon up.”
Not feelin’ hospitable, I take my leave and grumble, “Guess I’ll take care of things in the bathroom. Seems a hand job is the only action Long Dong Silver is going to get.”
“You’re going to jerk off while a professional assassin stands a few feet away?” Hand on the foyer door, she raises a brow.
I tuck myself in and pull my shirt over my head. “Damn girl, you really know how to bust my balloon.”
Her eyes flicker for a moment, as if I hit a nerve. However, before I can assure her I’m joshing, she disappears and by the time she returns with our guest, I’ve got my shit under control.
“Hey, Frank, nice to see you.” Lying through my teeth, I shake his hand and keep an eye on the demon in the pet carrier.
The minute he opens the cage door, his huge orange tabby flies up the loft stairs, sticks her head between the railings, and hisses at us from her strategic advantage.
Thank God, cats have no license to carry and no thumbs.
Frankie kisses my wife on the cheek. “T’anks for watching her. If all goes well, I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
It feels all sorts of wrong to say,good luck, man. So, I shake his hand again and nod as I lead him out the door. “No problem. See you, in a couple days.”
After he leaves, my willie springs back to life, eager for action, but familiar childish chatter echoes from below. Soon, Joey appears with Mikey and Kimmy in tow. “I got a few errands to run. I knew youz wouldn’t mind. By the way? Aunt Marion’s got the plague and can’t take the kids at the salon this week.”
While I process this, the phone rings, and it’s Sam’s cousin Mia. “Sorry, but before you ask, I can’t babysit. My classes are starting.”
Chapter Four
Sam
At this rate, my son will be graduating from college before I ever have sex again. I textmental health crisisinto the search bar and read the response; Do I feel I’m at a breaking point and need urgent assistance?
Not quite. but close.
Google suggests I focus on one thing at a time, so I call my youngest cousin who talks for five minutes, oblivious of how I haven’t uttered a word since hello.
I wait until she pauses to take a breath, before tossing out a conversation-stopper. “Have you and Hands set a date?”
“Not yet. I kinda don’t want to say anything while Rose is…” She stops and as she struggles to find the right phrase, I help fill in the void.
“Crying her eyes out? Depressed as fuck?”
“Yeah, about that, I’m staging an intervention and you’re invited.”
Despite my shitty morning, I smile because Saint Mia really is the nicest of us three cousins and we haven’t had one of these rituals since high school. “Will it involve ice cream, hot fudge, and potato chips?”
“Yes, and copious amounts of wine.”
My hubby groans in the background. “Y’all made me puke in my mouth.”
“Shush babe, it’s a girl thing. And this is your fault. If you’d simply talk to your very good friend, Wheels, we wouldn’t have to do this.”
He puts up his hands. “Hold your horses. I tried. The man is stubborn as fuck. And need I remind you, it was y’all’s idea to hook them up?”
“I know, I know.” Forgetting why I called, I hang up, then shake my head. “Oh my God, I meant to ask her what time her classes were and see if I could beg her to take Mikey for a few hours.”
Suds walks over and sits next to me on the couch. “Babe. We need to slow down. Count some posies and find some us-time. My cock is dying to sink into your sweet folds.”
At the bulge below his belt buckle, I remember the package. “Honey, did you order some medication?”
