His mother knew Mag would be a tough nut to crack.
And he was when it came to one of his buds.
Lottie had done it in about five minutes.
But Mo would not tell his girl anything like what his mothertold him to say.
She was probably already walking to the hutch to pull outthe china.
“I will,” he lied.
“Glad you called, honey.”
“Yeah, Ma.Love you and talk to you later.”
“Love you too, baby boy.”
He grinned, disconnected and tossed his phone to thenightstand so he could wrap both arms around his girl.
“Well, you didn’t fuck around with that,” she said into hisneck.
“Nope.”
“How nervous should I be?”
“She’sgonnalove you.”
“How nervous should I be, Mo?”
He gave her a squeeze which got him what he wanted.Shelifted her head and looked down at him.
“She’sgonnalove you, baby,” hesaid gently.
She studied his face.She did it hard.
When she saw what she needed, she dipped in and kissed him.
Mo rolled her and kissed her back.
They necked for a while.
When they were done, they got up, got dressed and left theroom they’d been in for five hours.
There was good soundproofing in his place.They’d heard Magcome in, but that was it.What they didn’t hear was that Mag came back withBoone.
So over Chinese delivery, Lottie got Boone’s version of Testthe New Woman.
Mo figured, with Boone, she passed after she successfullyshotgunneda beer.
It wasn’t that Boone had lower standards than Mag when itcame to Mo.
It was that Lottie was Lottie.
ChapterThirteen
No Shit
Lottie
