“What year is it?”
“Sweetheart, watching that tight ass of yours while youreven tighter pussy takes my cock, I’ve no fucking clue.But I hope I drilledyou for a decade.”
“I don’t.We can’t make babies if you drilled me for adecade with a condom on.A decade, mybabymakingyears might be behind me.”
That didn’t freak him.
Not at all.
Not my Mo.
He dipped closer, touched his mouth to mine, pulled an inchaway and asked, “How many doyouwant?”
“Seven thousand, but I’ll take two or three and seventhousand cats.”
His body and mouth both laughed again, I loved it again,then he said, “I’m not a cat guy.”
Uh-oh.
“You don’t like cats?”
“Take or leave cats, mostly leave.I’m a dog guy.”
Okay.
This was a problem.
I communicated the enormity of that problem by grabbing bothsides of his face and demanding, “Don’t tell Tex that.”
“I know about Tex’s cats.”He turned his head and kissed mypalm (and there it was, a little bit more).He came back to me.“Swear toChrist, won’t mention the cats.”
“Do you have a dog?”
“Work too much to have a dog.”
That’d end since I could take care of it when we got one (ortwo, or four).
Though he’d also have to put up with a cat (or two, orfour).
“Axl seemed nice,” I noted.
“Axl’s a good guy.”
“He says you two are buds.”
“We are.Like I said, Axl’s a good guy.”
“Do you have a lot of buds?”
“Hawk’s crew.Some old high school friends I keep in touchwith.My family.”
I tilted my head on the pillow.“Your family?”
“Mom in Denver, and four sisters.”
Four?
“You have four sisters?”I queried.
