“No.”
“Come on. You know which part I mean. You know it. Say it. Say the words. Did he or did he not—”
“Cut it out, Geege.”
“Bat you about your face with his—”
“Come on.”
“Was it good? Better than—”
“So much better.”
Her mouth’s still open, since she clearly didn’t expect my easy capitulation.
“Better than anything.” I let the truth out. “Like another universe. Another…me. You know?”
“But it happened. For real, right?” Gigi is obviously loving this. “First, you had literalintercoursewith your superstar husband, and then—”
“Just the tip!” shouts Lamé from the kitchen. It’s a good thing I’ve got nothing to hide.
I roll my eyes as Gigi breaks into a fresh bout of hysterical laughter.
“Yeah, yeah. Just the tip,” I yell back. “Doesn’t count.”
“Can I meet Lamé?” asks Gigi. “Just for a sec?”
“Coming!” Lamé emerges from the kitchen bearing a tray full of food and drinks. “Here you go, honey. Need to get your energy up.”
“My energy?”
Gigi gasps from my computer. “Hold on. Can you hold me up, T? I want to see what Lamé’s got on. Oh my god, you’re gorgeous.”
“You should see the shoes.” I turn the computer so she can ogle the skin-tight rainbow sequin jumpsuit Lamé’s sporting this afternoon.
Not that Gigi will hear. She and Lamé have dived into conversation, chatting, just the two of them. I’m clearly not needed here. I pass the laptop to Lamé. “Go ahead. You two talk. I’m starving. Thank you. You’re the best, Lamé,” I yell, sitting up to examine the tray, which is an absolute cornucopia of delights. Dates and figs and cheeses and fruits and sliced meats and all kinds of things I haven’t eaten in ages—if ever.
My stomach rumbles as I grab a cracker covered in some kind of cheese and pickle and maybe a sliver of date?
“Wait, what?” I vaguely hear Gigi react to something. “Shedidn’tlike it at all?” And then louder. “I thought you’d love suspension, Teetee? Isn’t getting tied up one of your things?”
Lamé holds the computer to show me stuffing my face. “Mmmm.” I lick some kind of cream off my fingers and wipe them on the tiny, tasseled cloth napkin they’ve provided. “It was okay. I thought I’d like the tying up part, too, but…”
“Who’d you play with?” Lamé asks, eyes narrowed.
“Burn.”
“Ohhhhh. He’s sexy, isn’t he? And really knows his way around a rope.”
I consider. “Yeeees.”
“Buuuut?” I look up to see both Lamé and Gigi waiting.
“It was awkward? Weird? I don’t know.” I shrug, swallowing before going on. “Zion was there, like a feral guard dog, staring at anyone who came near me or even like looked my way. He pulled Burn aside and had a quiet word before he’d let him string me up.”
“Oh my goddess.” Lamé’s watching me wide-eyed. “What’d he say?”
“I don’t know.” I lower my voice to as close to Zion’s bass as I can get. “It was a Dom thing, clearly.”
