We didn’t have classes on Friday because of the Easter holiday, but we of us spent the morning on schoolwork anyway. Trip had his own design project, although his was slightly different than mine. He was in his element with the details, though, so he didn’t need my help. Wren spread out a mass media communications project on the dining room table, while Christy headed to the A&A building to work on her maquette for the final piece of her Kanagawa series.

I spent all morning in my studio adding structural elements to my Japanese building, which needed several changes to accommodate the various mechanical systems. I felt like I was defacing a work of art, but it was a good reminder that my designs weren’t entirely art. They were functional buildings that needed mundane details like HVAC, water and sewer, and fire suppression. I had to admire Joska, though. By making us modify our own designs, he’d made his point in a way that was both subtle and memorable.

Christy came home a little before lunchtime, and the rest of us wrapped up our work as well. Wren threw together some amazing steak sandwiches and a grilled portobello one for Christy, and we relaxed around the kitchen table with the back door open and the breeze coming through the screen door.

“You have any special plans for this weekend?” I asked Wren.

She shrugged indifferently. “School.”

Trip shot me a smug look. He’d bought flowers, chocolates, and a couple of bottles of expensive champagne. He’d stashed them in the third-floor bathroom, where Wren hardly ever went. He also had reservations for Easter brunch at one of the nicest restaurants in town. He’d spared no expense, and Wren didn’t have a clue.

“Maybe you can take a bath and relax,” Christy said. “All work and no play makes Wren a dull girl.”

“Whatever,” she said.

Trip played along. “We’ll see. I have a ton of work this weekend too. It’s a good thing you all won’t be here to distract us.”

Translation: Thanks for leaving so I can wine and dine and de-stress my girlfriend.

“Glad we could help. And thanks for lunch,” I said to Wren. “It was delicious, as usual. Christy and I’ll do the dishes and clean up the kitchen before we go. How’s that?”

She attempted a smile. “Thanks.”

I picked up her plate and bent to kiss her cheek. “Christy’s right, get some rest this weekend. Blow off school and do nothing. Maybe go to the pool and work on your tan.”

“Wish I could,” she said.

I turned to Trip with faux resignation. “It’s up to you.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Do I need to take a suit?” I asked Christy as I pulled our suitcase from under the bed. I grabbed the garment bag as well. “I thought I could go to Mass with you on Sunday. Maybe my light gray three-piece? With the pale lavender shirt with the white collar? And a purple tie?”

“I think you’d look very handsome,” she said, “but you’d be a bit overdressed.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“We don’t go to Mass on Easter.”

“Seriously? I thought it was one of the big holidays for Catholics.”

“I suppose it is, but not for us.”

“Why not?”

“My mother’s father died when she was ten, a few days before Easter. None of the people from church ever visited while he was sick and in the hospital, but everyone came up to her family at Easter to express their condolences. People who never saw her otherwise and didn’t even know that her father had been ill. They were just doing the polite thing because everyone expected it, not because they actually cared.”

Unfortunately, the world was full of people like that, and Catholics didn’t have a monopoly on that particular sin.

“Ever since then,” Christy continued, “my mother’s… ‘hated’ is too strong a word, because she doesn’t really hate anyone. But she definitely doesn’t have any love for ‘CEO Catholics,’ Christmas and Easter Only. We’re real Catholics, she says, the everyday-Sunday kind.”

I nodded gravely, but my respect for Anne went up a few notches. She refused to participate in a farce, even if it meant staying home on one of the holiest days of the year for her faith.

“We do sort of dress up on Easter, though,” Christy said. “Not a suit and tie, but maybe your cream-colored slacks with the pale green shirt. And the pretty blue sweater, the one I bought you.”

“Sounds good.”

“And speaking of dressing up,” Christy said with a coy look, “I think I’ll take my school uniform. Brooke should still have hers. Sometimes we did it in our uniforms, after school. I never really thought about it at the time, but I guess it was our way to rebel against Sister Prune.”

I didn’t need much imagination to picture the two of them going down on each other in their plaid skirts and white blouses. Christy grinned and leveled a pointed look at the sudden bulge in my shorts.

“Hey, can you blame me?”

“No,” she laughed, “not really.” Then she glanced at the clock. “Do we have time…?”

“Are you kidding? I’ll make time.”

We arrived at the airport with barely twenty minutes to spare. Christy seemed unconcerned and even a little proud of herself, while I felt semi-panicky, like the plane might leave without us. Christy’s parents had paid for our tickets, though, so we could check in almost any time before departure. Still, old habits die hard.

The first two legs of our flight went smoothly. Christy and I chatted about school and projects and everyday things. Then we had a forty-five minute stop in Las Vegas, where she peered out the plane’s window and gazed at the lights of the airport.

“I thought we’d be able to see the casinos,” she said. “They’re right there.”

“You can’t really see anything from an airport.”

“I know, but still…” She turned away and shrugged. “I want to come back here with you sometime.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. My dad and brothers used to tease me and say they were going to take me to Vegas when I was old enough.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m so lucky. I don’t think I am, but they do. I used to win board games and cards all the time. They stopped playing with me. They won’t let me play Florida with them at all.” She shrugged. “I don’t really do anything, though. Good things just happen to me.”

“That’s sort of what luck is,” I chuckled.

“Well, all I know is that I’m lucky to have you. The rest are things I can’t control.”

“If you say so.” I grinned to show that I was teasing, but I had to admit that her father and brothers might have a point. She usually came out smelling like a rose any time something bad happened to her. Oh, she’d had her share of disappointments and losses, but she’d led a charmed life in many ways.

The flight from Las Vegas to San Diego was short and uneventful, and we arrived a little before midnight. We emerged from the jetway to find Brooke waiting with Christy’s parents. The two girls ran to greet each other. Harold shook my hand and Anne gave me a hug.

“Thanks for picking us up,” I told them. “I know it’s way past your normal bedtime.”

Harold snorted. “I haven’t had a ‘bedtime’ since I wore short pants.”

“You know what he means, dear,” Anne said.

“I suppose.”

“Anyway, thanks for picking us up.” I nodded toward Brooke and Christy. “And thanks for bringing Brooke. She and Christy have really missed each other lately.”

Anne’s smile was polite, while Harold’s was self-satisfied.

He explained, “She called earlier to ask if she could come with us. We invited her to spend the night, too.”

“Since her parents are out of town and we’ll be getting home so late,” Anne added.

I did my best to hide a grin, but Harold was entirely too sharp to miss it. He’d probably thought that having Brooke spend the night would keep Christy and me from sneaking into the other’s room, and he was entirely correct about that. But he didn’t realize that he’d just given the girls a head start on the rest of the weekend.

Anne must have sensed something as well, because she glanced from me to the girls and back again. She didn’t know anything about our sex life, but she wasn’t naïve, especially where her daughter was concerned. Her eyes widened at some of the thoughts going through her head, and I tactfully looked away so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge it.

The girls finished their reunion and Brooke hugged me in greeting. She felt a little tense and awkward, but not because of the contact. Her natural shyness had kicked in, and I almost laughed as she visibly tried to relax.

“Thanks for coming,” I told her. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Good to see you too.” She drew back and studied me. “Just your backpack? Where’s the rest of your luggage?”

“The others are too large to carry on,” I said. I gestured toward the terminal, and the whole group started walking. “Besides,” I added, “it’s safe to check bags when we’re flying revenue.”

“Safe?” Harold said in a tone of mild concern.

I reminded myself that he lived in a world where hijackings and terrorist bombings were things he had to worry about.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I just meant that we weren’t likely to lose our luggage. Not like last time. When I flew out in March, I packed everything in my backpack and carried it with me instead of checking it.”

“Why?”

“In case I got bumped.” He clearly didn’t know what I was talking about, so I explained, “I can fly for free because my dad works for the airline.”

His eyebrows went up. “So we didn’t need to pay for your ticket?”

“Well, yes and no,” I said guiltily. “I probably would have paid for it myself if you hadn’t.”

“Still, you’d better explain.”

“I can fly for free on a dependent pass, but I have to fly standby, which means I can get bumped in favor of a paying passenger. That isn’t a problem most of the time. But on busy holiday weekends, I run the risk of losing my seat every time the plane makes a stop.”

He nodded for me to continue.

“That’s what happened last time I flew out. The weather was bad and flights were delayed or canceled. I couldn’t even get on a flight.”

“Anne said you were late, but she didn’t say why. I thought you’d just missed your flight.”

“No, I spent six hours in the departure lounge until a seat opened up.”

“Ah, I see.”

“If I’d flown standby tonight, I could’ve lost my seat in Knoxville, Atlanta, or even Las Vegas. Christy would’ve had to continue without me.”

“Hold on, you stopped in Las Vegas?” he said. “How much did Birdy win?”

“Oh, Daddy,” she chided, “we didn’t even get off the plane.”

“Maybe next time,” he said wistfully. “But if you didn’t get off the plane,” he asked me, “how could you have lost your seat?”

“S— Harold, the airline doesn’t care. If they have a paying passenger and need my seat, they’d ask me to leave. They’d be polite and apologetic—not to mention discreet—but they’d still do it.”

“But it’s your seat. Can’t you object?”

“Sure. If I want my dad to lose his job. We represent the employee and the airline itself. We have a dress code and rules and everything. So it’s pretty serious. They drill that into all the families.”

“I understand that completely,” he said. “It’s the same for us any time we’re in uniform. Good catch, by the way, calling me Harold.” He winked and nodded.

“I sort of felt like it was an inquest.”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I’m just curious.”

“And perhaps a bit blunt?” Anne suggested.

“Yes, dear,” he said automatically. “But Birdy hasn’t told us any of this. So it’s interesting.”

“Well,” I said, “Birdy doesn’t pay attention to money or time or other practical things.”

“You can say that again,” he laughed.

“Harold!” Anne said. “Be nice.”

“Yes, dear.”

Christy glared at me. “You too, Mr. Meanie.”

“Yes, dear,” I agreed in exactly the same tone.

Harold burst into laughter. “See?” he said to Anne. “I told you he was a smart one.”

“Yes, dear,” she agreed. She even managed it without a hint of irony.

Harold and Anne said goodnight and went to bed as soon as Christy and I were settled. I was ready for bed myself, but she’d found a reserve of energy. She’d eaten a snack on the flight from Las Vegas, but that wasn’t the real reason. She was happy to see Brooke.

“Will you pour us drinks, dear?” she asked me.

“Sure, no problem.” I looked at my watch. My body thought it was four in the morning, and my internal alarm would probably wake me at the usual time in a couple of hours. Still, I went to the kitchen for ice and then filled three tumblers with whiskey, although mine was mostly water.

Christy and Brooke were sitting on the couch with their knees touching as they faced each other. I handed them drinks and then slid behind Christy. Brooke relaxed as she took a drink, but Christy seemed to vibrate with energy. I sipped my own watered-down drink and wondered why I’d ever thought a girlfriend with an abundance of energy was a good thing. Then I laughed at myself and in the process tried to snort some of Ireland’s finest.

The girls looked up, but I cleared my throat and waved them off.

“Sorry. Random thought,” I said. “And really dumb, now that I mention it.”

“What was it?” Brooke asked, ever curious.

“Honestly? I was wondering why I’m with Miss Metabolism here. She drags me across the country and then expects to stay up till the wee hours while she chats with her girlfriend.”

Brooke grinned in amusement, while Christy’s eyes filled with alarm.

“Then I felt like kicking myself,” I added. “I mean, duh! ‘Miss Metabolism’ is also ‘Miss Libido.’ Besides, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me. So… here I am, happily chatting. And, to be completely honest, feeling kinda proud of myself for realizing how lucky I am.”

“Oh my gosh,” Christy said, “don’t scare me like that!”

Brooke smiled, although more at Christy’s reaction than my speech. “You two are really cute together.”

“Yeah,” Christy muttered, “when he isn’t being a dork.”

I nodded to Brooke and raised my glass. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Oh, Chris!” she laughed. “He’s got your number!”

“Thank you very much, Mr. and Miss Tag Team.” She rolled her eyes at me and returned her attention to Brooke, although she reached back and caressed my leg to show that she wasn’t really upset.

They started chatting again, while I inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to fight off sleep. It was a losing battle, though, and at some point I closed my eyes. I opened them a couple of minutes later, or so I thought, to find Anne leaning over me.

“Wake up, dear. It’s time for bed.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Christy was saying. “We didn’t realize what time it was. We were talking, and…”

Anne took the mostly full glass from my hand and set it on the end table. The ice had completely melted. Some alert part of my brain was a little surprised that I hadn’t spilled it when I’d fallen asleep.

“Come along, dear. I turned down your bed for you.”

I stood at her urging and asked, “What time is it?”

“A little after two.”

I scowled. “What? It was four— Oh, right. Sorry. Pacific time.” I glanced at my watch. Sure enough, it said five o’clock.

Christy at least had the good grace to look chagrined. “Sorry. You know me. I lost track of time.”

“It’s my fault too,” Brooke admitted.

“No problem,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, I’m goin’ to bed.”

“We are too,” Christy said. “Sorry. Again.” She reached out. “I can take him, Mom.”

I was fine to walk by myself, but I let her accompany me down the hallway to the guest bedroom. Anne passed us and said goodnight on the way to the master bedroom. She opened the door, and I noticed Harold through the gap.

He was sitting up in bed, and the bedside light spread a warm glow across a neat pile of official-looking papers. He lowered a report and met my eyes. Then his lips twitched with a wry grin, and I could almost hear his voice in my head, Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I nodded to show that I understood. Anne must have been waiting for that moment—she’d probably planned it, I realized—because she gave me a goodnight smile and closed the door.

Harold wasn’t my enemy, but he was still keeping an eye on me. Christy must have understood as well, because she was on her best behavior. She kissed me in the doorway and then slipped into my arms for a long, tight hug.

“We probably shouldn’t…,” she said at last.

“Uh, no,” I agreed.

“Do you forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive.” I bent to kiss her goodnight. “See you in the morning. Well, later in the morning.”

“Are you going for a run? I can meet you—?”

“No, I’m going to sleep as long as my stupid body’ll let me.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go, before I forget that your parents are just down the hall and very awake.”

“Oh my gosh, you can say that again.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed me. “I promise I’ll take care of you properly tomorrow. Err… um… later today. Whenever. Ugh! You know I stink at telling time.”

“I know. And it’s one of many little quirks that I love about you. Now go.” I turned her toward her own bedroom and patted her bottom for good measure.

She gave me a look that made Mr. Big stand up and take notice. Then she laughed and darted back for a final kiss. We lingered over it, and she caressed my hard-on through my pants. “Mmm, you’re a good kisser.”

“Me or him?” I joked.

“You. I kiss him with my mouth open.”

“You kiss me with your mouth open too.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Besides, I swallow a lot when I kiss him.” She glanced into the guest bedroom and then toward her parents’ room.

“Better not,” I warned.

“I know. You’re right. Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you too. G’night.”

Much to my surprise, I slept until well after noon. Noon my time, that is. I even felt semi-normal, although my hard-on insisted on some attention.

Pronto, tout de suite, and right away, he said.

Hold your horses. I’m still waking up.

Well, you were dreaming of… I don’t remember, but it was hot. And now I’m in the mood.

I chuckled. You’re always in the mood.

What’s your point?

Maybe you should calm down?

And maybe you should get a grip. On me, dammit! Or go find Christy. She’ll be happy to see me.

Oh, sorry, I said in mock disappointment. That isn’t how this works. I’m in charge here.

Says who?

Says the guy with the bigger brain and opposable thumbs.

So? What do they have to do with anything? I don’t need ’em anyway.

You do if you want some attention.

Oh, no, he gasped. You wouldn’t.

I would.

No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Please? Just a quick handjob? I promise, I’ll behave!

I chuckled evilly and rolled out of bed. My poor hard-on made a tent in my boxers, but I risked the half-dozen steps to the bathroom. No one saw me, and my dick eventually got the message that he wasn’t getting any attention until he let me pee.

He was still sulking about it later, after I finished a shower and joined everyone else in the dining room. It was after ten thirty, but Harold and Anne were both still in pajamas and bathrobes. He was reading the newspaper and lingering over coffee, while she had a cup of tea and was talking to the girls.

They were still in pajamas as well. Brooke wore a UCSD T-shirt and a pair of shorts that showed off her legs. I didn’t exactly stare at her chest, but her nipples made little shadows where they pressed against the thin cotton of her shirt. She saw my glance and turned pink, so I shrugged and gave her a look that combined equal parts apology and appreciation.

Christy wore a Riverwood Wrestling T-shirt and her usual plaid pajama bottoms.

“Hold on,” I said, “where’d you get that shirt? I thought I lost it— Ah, right. So that’s where it went.”

“Yeah, sorry,” she said. “I might’ve stolen it.”

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, fine, I stole it. So sue me.”

“I’d rather—”

Her eyes went wide.

“—get some breakfast instead.”

Her panic turned into a glare. And even though her parents had no clue what I’d been about to say, they’d been married long enough to know an innuendo when they heard one. Harold frowned, but Anne hid a smile as she pushed back from the table and stood.

“What would you like?” she asked. “An omelet? Toast and juice?”

“That’s okay, I can fix something.”

“Son,” Harold said, “she isn’t going to let you make your own breakfast, and it’ll be a lot easier on both of you if you just say thank you and sit down.”

I said thank you and sat down.

Anne’s smile was an older and wiser version of Christy’s. “I’ll get you started with juice.”

“Coffee’s on the buffet,” Harold added with a nod.

“He doesn’t drink it, dear.”

“I know. But I thought I’d do my part.”

She smiled and patted his shoulder fondly. Then she disappeared into the kitchen, while he retreated behind his newspaper.

“So,” I said to the girls, “did you get any sleep?”

“Not much,” Christy admitted.

“We were up talking till almost four,” Brooke added.

Harold innocuously turned the page on his newspaper, and I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking, Mission accomplished.

“What time did you wake up?” I asked them.

They glanced at each other, and I realized that “woke up” and “came out of our room” would be two different answers.

“Um… about an hour ago,” Brooke said.

I grinned and made her turn pink again.

“We were… making plans,” Christy said. She followed it up with a semi-indignant, “Mr. Sleepyhead.”

I ignored that and said, “Plans that include me?”

“If you must know—”

“I must, I must.”

Harold snorted a laugh behind the newspaper.

“—I thought—” Christy stopped and scowled at both of us before she continued, “If you must know… I thought we could go to the zoo.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said.

She gave me an intense look and said, “You know… the zoo.”

I still didn’t make the connection.

“The. Zoo.”

Yeah, I understand it’s a code word, I thought at her. But I still don’t get it. (Honestly, she was a lousy conspirator.)

Brooke stepped in at that point, and she was much better at it. “We thought we’d hang out. You know, just the three of us.” She didn’t put any extra emphasis on the word “three,” but her expression told me all I needed to know.

“Yeah, totally,” I agreed. “The zoo sounds awesome.”

The girls went to get ready after I finished breakfast.

“Is it okay that we’ll be gone all afternoon?” I asked Anne.

“Of course, dear.”

“Are you sure? Do you need help with cooking or anything for tomorrow?”

“No, but thank you. We don’t really do much. Nothing as formal as Thanksgiving.”

“Besides,” Harold said from behind his paper, “the girls can help in the morning.”

I deliberately didn’t say anything, but I gave Anne a look that asked if she wanted help anyway. She smiled and shook her head.

“The weather’s supposed to be lovely today,” she said aloud. “Would you like to take my car?”

“That’d be nice, thanks. As long as you don’t mind.”

“She wouldn’t’ve offered if she did,” Harold said.

Anne cleared her throat. “He was being polite, dear.”

“Ah, right.” He turned down a corner of the newspaper and said to me, “Sorry. Sometimes I forget I’m not the Admiral at home.”

“Should I call you ‘sir’ when you do?”

“No,” he grumped. Then, “What’s so funny?”

“Christy does the same thing when I tease her. She even sounds like you.”

“Smart girl.” He flipped the paper up.

Anne did her level best not to grin at the two of us. “I’ll get the keys.” She returned with them a moment later. “Where are you off to?”

“The zoo.”

Her eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Then she thought about it and decided it was a cover story. She didn’t say anything, though, and we made small talk until the girls appeared from the back. I literally stopped in the middle of a sentence when I saw them.

Christy wore a tight white halter top with pink stripes and a matching pair of pink shorts that showed off her tanned and firm legs. Brooke was the real conversation-stopper in a strapless terrycloth dress. It was teal, which highlighted her hair and complexion, while the top showed off her shoulders and chest. She blushed when she saw my awestruck expression.

“I told you,” Christy said under her breath.

Harold folded his newspaper and did a double take. Then he did his best impression of a robot. I actually felt sorry for him. Brooke oozed sex appeal, especially since her breasts moved naturally without a bra, and he was all too aware that she was his daughter’s age.

“You look great,” I said as I stood. “Both of you. Ready to go?” They nodded, so I thanked Anne one more time.

“You’re welcome, dear. Will you be home for dinner?” It wasn’t really a question.

“Of course. What time?”

“Seven.”

“Sharp,” Harold added.

“Yes, sir,” I snapped playfully.

He scowled, but Anne let me get away with it.

“Why don’t you join us,” she said to Brooke. Again, it wasn’t a question.

“Thanks, Mrs. C.”

“Have fun at the zoo.” Her eyes twinkled with a smile.

“Don’t poke the bears,” Harold said.

Anne gave me a bland, expectant look, and I had to stifle a laugh when I realized that it was a reminder to make sure our alibi was solid.

“Roger that,” I said.

She and Harold each heard what they wanted, and everyone was happy.

“So, where are we really going?” I asked as soon as we were safely out of the driveway.

“Ugh! How could you not understand?” Christy said. “I told you, remember?” She hinted again, “The store by the zoo?”

“Sorry, still don’t get it.”

“The one with the… um… special items?”

“No clue.”

“The sex stuff!”

“Ah, right! Lingerie and toys and movies.”

“I promise,” she said to Brooke, “he isn’t normally this dense.”

“It was kind of obscure,” Brooke said. “I wouldn’t’ve known what you were talking about if you hadn’t said something earlier.”

“Fine, take his side.”

Brooke and I shared a smile in the rearview mirror.

“Okay,” I said, “I need directions.”

“Don’t look at me,” Christy said.

“Seriously? You don’t know how to get there?”

“She doesn’t know how to get anywhere,” Brooke laughed. “I’m not even sure she knows how to drive.”

“I can drive,” Christy muttered.

“Are you sure?” Brooke teased. “I’ve never seen you do it.”

“You know, she’s right,” I said all of a sudden. “I’ve never seen you drive either. I mean, you always ride with me or someone else.”

“I have my license,” Christy said indignantly. “I just… don’t like to drive. My feet don’t reach the pedals,” she added loftily.

“Your mom’s do,” Brooke said, “and she’s even shorter.”

“Stupid logic,” Christy grumped.

Brooke and I shared another smile. Then she turned businesslike and said, “Take a right and head toward the interstate. South on I-5. I’ll give you directions from there.”

We parked on the street and walked toward the store, and my first thought was that we were in the wrong place. The sex shop I knew in Knoxville was a drab little windowless building. The one in San Diego was on a main thoroughfare in a row of normal shops with a wide sidewalk and big plate-glass windows. I couldn’t imagine an adult store in one of them, but I was wrong.

The shop had lingerie-clad female mannequins in one window and male mannequins in bondage gear in the other. And if those weren’t enough of a clue, the name of the shop was Adam & Eve and their sign proudly advertised “adult products, lingerie, bondage, and more.”

I held the door for the girls and then followed them inside, where I received another shock. The store wasn’t dingy, small, and cluttered like the one I was used to. It had good lighting, room to browse, and signs over each department.

One of the employees approached us, an attractive dark-haired woman several years older than us. She wore a black leather bustier, a short mulberry-colored skirt, and fishnet stockings, but she looked normal in almost every other way. Her ears were pierced several times and her lipstick matched her skirt, but I couldn’t really hold that against her, especially when I’d been expecting a creepy old guy with three-day stubble.

“Can I help you find something?”

I started to answer before I realized she was talking to the girls.

“Um… lingerie?” Christy said tentatively.

“Sure. Right this way.” She must have been used to dealing with nervous customers, because she realized the girls needed a bit more guidance than simply pointing them in the right direction. “Do you have something in mind?” she asked. “Everyday wear? A special occasion? Something exotic?”

“Maybe the last one?” Christy said.

“A woman after my own heart. Over here.” She glanced back and added, “I’m Amber, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Christy said, and introduced herself.

Brooke mumbled something polite.

“I’m Paul,” I said when Amber looked my way.

“Is he with you,” she asked Christy, “or are you with him?”

“Um… we’re with him.”

“So, no slave gear today?” she said to me.

“Oh my gosh,” Christy said under her breath.

“Not my style,” I chuckled.

“That’s cool,” Amber said. We reached the first lingerie display and she said, “Well, here we are, ladies. What can I show you?”

We spent the next hour looking at everything from relatively demure nighties to crotchless cutout teddies. Most of it was meant for sex or dress-up foreplay, so it wasn’t the same quality as Christy’s everyday lingerie, but that was sort of the point. It didn’t have to hold up to regular wear because it would never leave the bedroom.

The girls slowly relaxed as Amber treated everything like it was just another part of life. She even made explicit things sound normal. She glanced at me a couple of times to see if I had an opinion on whatever Christy was looking at, but she clearly wasn’t flirting. She was a very good salesperson, too, and wasn’t afraid to give her honest advice, especially when something wasn’t a good look.

“You’re too petite for that,” she said to Christy once, about a shelf corset, “especially up top. What do you think of this instead?” She held up a red satin and lace corset with a matching pair of panties.

“Ooh, I like that,” Christy said. “What do you think, Paul?”

“I think it’d look great on the bedroom floor. But what do you think? Does it make you feel sexy?”

Amber nodded. “He’s right. How’s it make you feel when you think about wearing it?”

“Very naughty.”

“Add it to your collection?”

“Yes, please.” She beamed before she made the mistake of looking at me. “Oh, sorry. Better not.”

I’d been adding up price tags in my head, and my expression probably reflected it. Christy had already said yes to at least two hundred dollars’ worth, and we hadn’t even made it out of the lingerie section.

Amber looked at me.

“Do you want just lingerie?” I asked Christy. “Or other stuff too?”

“Um… can we do other stuff too?”

“Sure. Then pick three or four outfits here.” I’d meant to say two but had changed my mind at the last moment. I’d made things worse by saying three or four, which, of course, meant four.

Christy bounced up and gave me a kiss, and I mentally doubled my budget.

“And what about you?” Amber asked Brooke. “Would you like to pick out a few?”

“I wish! I can’t afford it.”

“Don’t worry, I can,” the little head said through my mouth.

You treacherous little shit!

It’s your own fault, he said. You should’ve given me some attention this morning. Now it’s going to cost you.

Christy covered her mouth but couldn’t hold back laughter.

“Did I miss something?” Amber said.

Christy was comfortable enough by then to explain, “He talks to his penis.”

“I see,” Amber smirked.

“And I think he’s the one who said he can afford it.”

“Is she serious?” Amber asked me.

“Sadly, she is. He… um… has his own priorities.”

She winked and smiled. “That’s okay. Most of them do.”

I wished he had his own bank account too, but it was too late for that. Besides, I could imagine the looks he’d get if he tried to sign a credit card receipt.

“Do you really mean it?” Christy asked. “You’ll get some for Brooke too?”

I glanced at the redhead, who was torn between excited and anxious.

“On one condition,” I said to her.

“What?”

“No strings attached.”

She frowned uncertainly.

“I mean it. Whatever happens this weekend—or doesn’t happen—is up to you. The lingerie and anything else is just something special because you’re Christy’s girlfriend. Okay?”

She shot a furtive glance at Amber, who wasn’t the least bit fazed by the comment. Then she looked at Christy, who clasped her hands and beamed hopefully.

“O-okay,” she said at last. Then, a bit shyly, “Thank you.”

I nodded once, and the girls headed toward a rack of bra and panty sets. Amber hung back and watched silently.

“Christy’s with me,” I replied to her unasked question. “Brooke’s her girlfriend.”

“I worked out the first part, and the second’s obvious now that I know. How long have you been in the lifestyle?”

“A while,” I answered vaguely. “Christy’s… new to it. This is Brooke’s first… um…”

“Experience,” Amber filled in smoothly.

“Yeah, good word. What about you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve tried it, but I’m more into monogamy these days.” She glanced up at me. “You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

“I don’t have that much of an accent, do I?”

“Not really. Somewhere in the south. Texas, maybe?”

“Brooke’s from Texas,” I said.

“Oh, in that case,” Amber revised, “maybe Alabama? I dunno, Kentucky? I’m just guessing,” she added. “I can’t tell any of ’em apart. I just know you’re from the south.”

“Georgia, mostly. But we go to school in Tennessee.”

“The Bible Belt?”

“’Fraid so. But we’re a little more open-minded than all that.”

“I can tell,” she said with a grin. “You seem like a cool guy.”

“Thanks. I try.”

“Well, you haven’t hit on me or tried to convince me to make your threesome a foursome.”

“Um, no. I didn’t get that vibe from you, so…” I shrugged by way of apology in case I’d been wrong.

“No, you’re right,” she said. “I have a guy I’m pretty happy with at the moment.”

“That’s cool. I thought it was someone, but I wasn’t sure if it was a guy or a girl. Well, not until just now.”

“I like girls occasionally, but mostly guys.” She smiled at me again. “You’re down with everything, aren’t you? That’s pretty radical for a guy from the south.”

“Eh, we’re not all bible thumpers and prudes. Besides, California has its share of those, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “but they’re all up in Orange County!”

“Fair enough.”

“I’d better get back to the ladies.” She gave me an appraising look. “You won’t take it the wrong way if I offer to give you my employee discount, will you?”

“Absolutely not!” I said with relief.

Brooke eventually picked out four pieces of lingerie for herself. Amber took them and Christy’s to the register and then returned.

“What next, ladies and gentleman?”

“Maybe… the… um… bondage stuff?” Christy looked at me.

The little head answered for me, “Sure.”

“Right this way,” Amber said. “What’re you looking for? First-time gear or more hardcore?”

“Um… first-time.”

“Okay, so blindfolds, nipple clamps, maybe handcuffs?”

“Oh my gosh, all of it.”

“But no paddles, whips, or gags?”

“Maybe just the first one?” Christy said.

Amber nodded and then winked at me. “What about you?” she asked Brooke.

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

Amber looked to me for confirmation.

The big head kept adding things up, but the little head overrode him. I reminded myself that it was only money.

“Get whatever you want,” I said to Brooke, although the big head managed to add, “within reason.”

“Thank you. Maybe just a blindfold.”

Christy was a little nervous at first, but Amber worked her magic and made everything seem perfectly normal. She helped Christy pick out a pair of steel handcuffs, a set of padded wrist and ankle cuffs, a pair of nipple clamps with a chain, and (much to my surprise) a leather collar with nipple clamps. Then she and Brooke chose matching masquerade masks.

“Don’t forget the paddle,” I told them. Or the little head did. By then I couldn’t really tell the difference between what he wanted and what I did.

“Yes, sir,” Christy said immediately.

“Do you want to try it first?” Amber asked me when the girls had chosen one.

Christy looked at me with a mixture of fear and barely concealed arousal.

I held her in suspense for several heartbeats before I said, “No, it’s fine.”

She breathed again, and Brooke shot me a grin.

“Okay,” Amber said, almost conversationally, “what’s next? Are we ready for toys?”

Brooke looked momentarily hopeful, until Christy scrunched her nose and shook her head.

“It isn’t the same now that I have the real thing.”

“Maybe some lube or massage oil?” Amber asked.

“Ooh, massage oil. What do you think, Brooke?”

I silently doubled my budget again and hoped my credit card wouldn’t melt when we tried to use it, because the cash in my pocket wouldn’t even cover the lingerie.

Can you sign a credit card receipt? I asked the little head.

No. Can you fuck the girls with those fancy thumbs of yours?

Probably.

He snorted in derision.

I rolled my eyes and waited patiently as the girls picked out bottles of massage oil.

When Christy saw the flavored lubes, she worked up the courage to ask, “Do you have anything to help with… um… deep throat?”

“Sure,” Amber said without missing a beat. “Here, try this. It numbs your throat.” She uncapped the bottle and held it up to Christy, who opened her mouth. Amber pumped several sprays, and Christy looked surprised.

“Oh, wow, that was quick. Mmm, it tastes good too.”

“It’s mint,” Amber said.

“Ooh, yummy minty penis!” Christy blushed when she realized what she’d said.

“That’s okay. I use it with my guy too,” Amber said.

“So this will help me… you know?”

“It’ll help, but it still takes practice.”

“Can you do it?” Christy asked.

“Uh-huh. Although it took me a while to learn. Just keep at it.”

She winked at me, and I made a discreet “wrap it up” finger-twirl. She nodded and started to gesture toward the cash registers.

“Um,” Brooke spoke up, “there’s one thing I’d like to look at.”

“Sure. What?”

She leaned forward to whisper in Amber’s ear.

To her credit, Amber glanced at me first. Brooke had asked for so little that I couldn’t begrudge her anything, so I nodded.

“Of course. Right this way.” Amber headed toward a section we’d skipped earlier, the sex toys. “Beginner?” she asked Brooke, who nodded mutely. “Then I’d start with this one.” She took down a box. “Once you’re comfortable with it, you can move up to a bigger size.”

Brooke blushed but took the box and peered at the pink butt plug inside.

“We also have a starter kit with three sizes.” She took one look at Brooke and changed it to, “Maybe just the small one to start, huh?”

“If you think so,” Brooke said.

“Yeah, this is what I started with. It feels a bit weird at first, but you get used to it pretty quickly. And if you like it, the bigger sizes feel even better. You can come back any time you’re ready to move up. How’s that sound? Oh, wait! You’re from Texas, aren’t you?”

“She lives here now,” I explained.

“Oh. Then I’ll definitely give you my name. I normally work weekends, and you can call to make sure I’m working before you come in.”

“Thanks,” Brooke said.

“You’ll probably want some lube to go with it.” She led us back to that shelf and picked out a small bottle. “This is like the spray we picked out for Christy. It’ll numb you and make it more comfortable to insert the plug. Or anything else, when you’re ready.”

I gestured toward the register, a little more decisively.

Amber nodded and said to the girls, “So, are we ready to check out?”

“What about Paul?” Christy said.

“What about me?”

“We need to get something for him.”

Amber’s eyebrows rose with amusement. “I don’t know if he wants anything.”

“Of course he does,” Christy said.

“Then… what would he like? We have penis rings, pumps, bondage toys, clothing…? Anything sound interesting?”

“Penis rings.”

“Right this way.”

We surveyed the display, and I said to Christy, “You know I already have one of these, right?”

“Oh my gosh, really? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you show me?”

“It never came up, I guess.”

“It comes up all the time,” she said a little crossly. “And besides, you know what I like.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Amber said. Then she asked me, “What’s it made of?”

“Black rubber. With little nubs around it.”

Christy gave me a look of exasperation. “And you haven’t been using it on me?”

Amber chuckled and pointed out a box. “This is one of our sampler kits. It’s rubber like his and comes with a donut ring for extra endurance, a gear ring for clitoral stimulation, and a lasso ring that’s a perfect fit for any guy. It even comes with a small bottle of lube to help get them on and off.”

“What about the metal ones?” Christy asked.

“Surgical stainless steel. You feed his testicles through first, then his penis. You have to do it when he’s soft, though, since these don’t stretch.”

“Wait… I can put it on him?”

“That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Amber laughed.

“And what about the leather one?”

“My personal favorite. It adjusts with these snaps.” She showed her.

“Can we get them all?” Christy asked me.

“Pick two,” I said firmly. They weren’t that expensive, but at some point enough was enough. Besides, I only had one cock, and I didn’t need a different ring for every day of the week.

“The kit and the metal one?” she said hopefully.

“Two. Or the kit.”

“Fine, Mr. Stingy—”

Brooke winced, and even Amber looked embarrassed.

“—just these two.” Christy kept the metal and leather ones and put the kit back on the display.

“Better,” I said patiently. “Now, are we ready to check out?”

“What about clothes?”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Please, please,” she begged. “Wait, I know! I’ll buy them for you!”

I decided it wasn’t worth an argument, and Amber knew that I’d hit my limit. She showed Christy a couple of racks of thongs, briefs, and even some regular-looking pants. Fortunately, it was a much smaller selection than the one for women.

“I like the lounge pants,” Christy said.

“What size is he?” Amber asked.

“Um… pretty big. Does that make a difference?”

“No,” Amber laughed, “I mean his waist.”

“Oh, sorry. Thirty-four.”

“Medium. These should fit.” She took down a pair of black satin pants with a drawstring waist.

“What do you think?” Christy asked Brooke.

“They look comfy, but… are they really that special?”

“You’re probably right.” Christy handed them back and asked, “Do you have anything more… um… revealing?”

“Sure,” I muttered, “right this way.”

“You could work here,” Amber said, although she tempered it with an apologetic smile. Then she pointed to another display, where Christy picked out a mesh “gentleman’s g-string” and a pair of pouchless briefs that were the male equivalent of crotchless panties.

“You know it’s going to take us weeks to try all this stuff,” I said.

“But… we have the rest of our lives,” she replied, saccharine-sweet. Then she broke into a smile and threw her arms around me. “Oh, Paul, I love you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

How could I say no to that?

My credit card went through without a problem, but Christy’s plan to pay didn’t work out so well. Her checks were out-of-state (and out-of-date—they had her old address from when she lived in Andy Holt Apartments), and she didn’t have enough cash in her purse.

“I can write a check,” Brooke said.

“No,” I said, polite but firm, “I’ll do it.”

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Christy promised.

I faked a smile and handed Amber my card again.

My mood improved drastically once we left the store with all our purchases. We loaded them in the trunk of the Mercedes and then decided to put the top down. Christy covered her hair with a scarf from the glove compartment, and Brooke tied hers in a pony tail to keep it from blowing all over the place.

“That was fun!” Christy said as we pulled away from the parking spot.

“But expensive, even with the discount she gave us,” Brooke added. She looked at me in the mirror. “I promise I’ll pay you back.”

“No need,” I said.

“Exactly,” Christy agreed. “Besides, we’ll pay him back in other ways.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said. “No, you won’t.”

“Of course we will. We owe you.”

I spotted an empty parking space and whipped into it. Then I turned to Christy.

“No, you don’t,” I said deliberately.

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t ‘owe’ me anything. Neither does Brooke.”

“Of course we do.”

“We do,” Brooke echoed from the back seat.

“Let me make this very clear,” I said. “You don’t owe me a thing. Ah-ah,” I said before Christy could interrupt me. “Just say thank you.”

“Of course,” Christy said. “Thank you.”

“We really appreciate it,” Brooke agreed.

“But we’ll pay you back,” Christy added. “We’ll do whatever you want.”

“I hope you do, but one thing has nothing to do with the other. You don’t owe me anything except a ‘thank you.’ You’ve already said that, so we’re even. Anything else is your choice. And especially yours,” I added to Brooke, who’d begun to understand. “That’s what I meant when I said ‘no strings.’”

“I… understand,” she said.

“I don’t,” Christy said testily. To me, “You bought it all and we’re going to pay you back.”

I took a deep breath and kept a firm hold on my frustration level.

“Chris,” Brooke said, “he means we don’t have to pay him with sex.”

“But… he’s my boyfriend. Of course I pay him with sex.”

“That’s different. You do that because you want to,” Brooke said. “And he’s saying that if I want to, I shouldn’t do it because I feel like I owe him for buying me all that stuff.”

“Then why’d he do it?” She stopped suddenly and thought it through. “Hold on,” she said to me, a bit suspiciously, “is this one of your double standard things?”

“Sort of. I don’t like the idea that a guy buying you gifts or dinner or anything else means he’s entitled to something, especially your body. So I hope we have sex, but that’s up to you. And me. But when have I ever said no to a beautiful woman? Whoa, that came out wrong! I say no all the time. Like that flight attendant.”

Christy couldn’t help but grin. “You’re cute when you stick your foot in your mouth.”

“But you get what he’s saying, don’t you?” Brooke said.

“I suppose. We don’t owe him. I get it, but… I’m going to have sex with him no matter what. Duh! He’s my boyfriend. Besides… it’s really fun.”

The girls shared a grin.

Then Brooke turned serious and said to me, “I can’t promise anything, ’cause I still might chicken out, but I really wanna go through with it this weekend. And it has nothing to do with the stuff you bought.”

“It’s ’cause you’re totally sexy,” Christy said.

“That too,” Brooke agreed with a shy grin.

“Besides,” Christy said, “you’re doing this for me, remember? For science!”

“No, I’m doing it for me, ’cause I want to.” She looked at me. “Right?”

“Right.”

“And maybe for science. Just a little.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, who’m I kidding?” she said. “I’m doing it ’cause I wanna get laid.”

“That’s the spirit!” I said.

We fell silent and traded grins until Christy blurted, “Oh my gosh!” out of the blue.

“What?” Brooke and I said at the same time.

“I can’t believe you bought a butt plug!”

A woman on the sidewalk recoiled and hurried past, but neither girl noticed.

“I know, right?” Brooke gushed. “I couldn’t believe it either!”

“Hold on!” I said before the conversation could shock any more passers-by. “Let’s plan our alibi first. Then we can get excited about our new toys. Okay?”

“Alibi?” Christy said. “We have an alibi. We’re going to the zoo.”

“To see what?” I asked calmly.

“Um… the animals?”

“Just give it up,” Brooke said to me. “She’s terrible at this. Always has been.”

“Terrible at what?” Christy squawked.

Brooke ignored her. “Continue on this street,” she said instead. “Take a right on Park Boulevard. That’ll take us toward Balboa Park and the Zoo. We can check the signs and see what big exhibits they have. I think one is their Asian elephants, but I can’t remember.”

“I’m not terrible,” Christy grumbled. “I just don’t think like you do, Miss Logical.”

“Thank God for that,” I said with a sideways grin.

“Amen,” Brooke agreed. “We wouldn’t love you half as much if you did. Now come on, let’s get our alibi straight and head back to my house.”

“And then can we have sex?” Christy asked. “After all that teasing in the store, I need a wet pussy and a hard cock inside me. Oh, please! Don’t look so surprised! Either of you! I know the words.”

“Yeah, but you never say ’em,” Brooke said. “Well, rarely.”

“Blame him,” Christy said. “It’s his fault. He totally corrupted me. I used to be pure and innocent.”

“Uh-huh,” I said dubiously.

“Don’t believe her for a minute,” Brooke agreed.

We saw a billboard for the elephants before we even reached the zoo, although we still cruised down Park Boulevard and confirmed it and some of the other exhibits. Brooke even made me stop so she could jump out and grab a fold-out map from a little kiosk.

Then we drove home with the wind in our hair and the radio blaring. The convertible was fun to drive, especially with two pretty girls, but I was ready for more than just jealous looks from the people we passed. My excitement must have been contagious, because the girls were both grinning by the time I whipped into Brooke’s driveway and parked next to her BMW.

“Do you think we should put on a show?” Christy said as we unloaded our shopping bags and took them inside.

“Let’s make something to drink first,” Brooke said. “I bought all the stuff for mai tais. Real ones this time, with orange juice, lime juice, the whole works.”

“Yum!” Christy said, although she tempered her excitement. “And… um… maybe something to eat?”

“I’ll make sandwiches,” I laughed. I was hungry myself, and I’d eaten breakfast later than they had.

“I can do it,” Brooke said.

I shook my head. “I know the recipe for sandwiches. I don’t know the one for mai tais. So you’re in charge of those.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, although it was more offhand than Christy’s usual reply. “Bread’s in the pantry,” she added. “Everything else’s in the fridge.”

“What should I do?” Christy asked.

“Towels and sunscreen.”

She disappeared toward the back.

“Are you okay with everything so far?” I asked Brooke as I found the bread.

“I think so.” She took three plastic plates and cups out of a cupboard and then began handing me ingredients from the refrigerator. “The store was fun, but I can’t believe how much you spent. Chris has always been really bad about money. She has no idea. That was, like, two months’ allowance for me. Thank you again, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I get what you said on the way home, but I still feel like I owe you.”

“You don’t.”

“Tell that to my conscience.”

“Okay. But if you want to ‘pay’ me back, pay Christy instead.”

“What do you mean? Like, sex? We do that anyway.” She stopped and stood bolt upright, and the refrigerator door swung closed on its own. “Damn,” she said softly.

“What?”

“I just realized what I said and how relaxed I am around you. It’s like with Amber earlier. She was really cool, by the way.”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s like with her. She made all that stuff—crotchless this and exposed that—seem perfectly normal. You do that with sex, don’t you?”

“Sort of.”

“No, for real. Chris said you’re really open about it, and now I see what she meant.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all! It’s really cool. I just… hadn’t realized the effect it’s had on me. Like what I said just now, about me and Chris and sex.” She turned and gave me a serious look. “You’re really good for her, by the way. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. But I’ll kill you if you do what you did last summer.”

“In my defense, I didn’t know how she felt about me. But… yeah, I get it.”

“Okay, as long as you know. She’s totally in love with you. You’re all she talks about sometimes. She’s even talking about your wedding, and she never did that before, even with Simon.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what she ever saw in that guy.”

“It’s complicated,” I chuckled.

“You can say that again. She—”

Christy interrupted us as she breezed into the kitchen and dropped a stack of folded beach towels on the little breakfast table.

“Behold, the towel,” she said to Brooke. “Just about the most massively useful thing any nudist can carry. You can sit on it. You can dry yourself with it. You can lie in the sun on it. You can even wrap it around yourself if you’re cold.” She grinned and paused theatrically. “Always know where your towel is.”

“Oh, God,” Brooke said, “please tell me you haven’t turned into one of those people.”

Christy frowned. “Who? What? What’d I do?”

“What’s the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”

“Huh?” Christy said. “I don’t understand. Swallow what?”

“Oh, thank God,” Brooke said in genuine relief. “I thought he’d turned you into one of them.”

“What’re you talking about?” Christy asked her.

“I think I know,” I chuckled. “I went to high school with a group of guys who could quote The Hitchhiker’s Guide and Monty Python and a bunch of other really geeky things.”

“Those guys’re in college now,” Brooke said, “and most of ’em are in the engineering department. I swear, they think that stuff’s hilarious. And they repeat it all the damn time! About a year ago I had a study group with two guys who could quote every line of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Drove the rest of us crazy.” She shook her head in frustration at the memory. “And I think I’m a nerd? I’m practically normal compared to some of those guys. No wonder they don’t have girlfriends.”

“Eh,” I said with a shrug, “the guys I knew were pretty normal once you got past their Monty Python schtick. And the Hitchhiker thing Christy said is something I told her back when she first tried being a nudist.”

“I did more than try!”

“Yeah, you did, Little Bit. Speaking of which…” I gestured at her shorts and top. “Off. Now.”

She turned serious in a heartbeat. “Yes, sir.”

Brooke’s eyes widened as Christy kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her shorts.

“What’d you just do?” Brooke asked me.

“She likes being told what to do.”

“Yeah, but it never worked for me. Not like that.”

Christy slid her shorts and panties down her legs and kicked them after her shoes.

“Maybe you weren’t forceful enough,” I suggested.

“I guess.”

Christy pulled her shirt over her head and then unfastened her bra. She dropped them both to the floor on top of her other things. Finally she clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her eyes.

“Wow,” Brooke said quietly.

“Mmm hmm,” I agreed. Then I studied her out of the corner of my eye. “You aren’t quite that submissive, are you?”

“No, but I’ve never had a guy use that tone of voice with me.” She shuddered when she thought about it.

“Do you want me to?”

“Maybe.” She cleared her throat and repeated it, stronger. “Maybe.”

“Okay. Do you know what a safe word i—?”

“Tequila,” she said before I could even finish.

“So you’ve thought about this,” I laughed.

That was a preview of Risqué Management. To read the rest purchase the book.

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