you then. I’m going to be a devil tonight,” she whispers, biting her lip and then resting a hand on my thigh. She’s out for blood. I like it. I hate it. I’m not in for it. She’s out for it. I’m in trouble.
The waiter clears his throat and asks, “Do you need anything?” I need something alright.
She doesn’t take her eyes off mine. “Check please,” she mumbles.
I glance at the guy and nod. “Yes, the check, please. Everything was great,” I say, remembering the decent manners drilled into me by my parents since birth. He scurries away, leaving us alone again.
She’s shaking her head back and forth when I look her way. I narrow my eyes and cock my head in question. “You have no idea the effect you have on people, do you?” she asks. I smile. This causes her to shake her head a touch more furiously. I laugh.
“I only care about how I affect one person,” I admit.
“Fear not. I don’t think you could affect me any more unless you came in alcoholic drink form,” Windsor says. She crosses and uncrosses her legs.
“Drink form can be arranged,” I say, smiling so wide it hurts.
CHAPTER NINE
Windsor
I’M LYING ON the formal dining room table, legs spread wide open—naked except for a shirt. I shut my eyes as tightly as they’ll go and wait for it. This is a bad idea. I’ve said as much at least twelve times.
“Scoot your ass closer to the edge of the table.” Only one other person has said this to me: my gynecologist.
I do as I’m told. “I’m counting to twenty and you better be done,” I say through gritted teeth. This is painful—torturous on so many levels.
The hot wax meets my bikini zone and I jump from the unexpected heat.
“Ow, Gretchen. God, be a little more careful would you?” I can’t believe she talked me into this. “I feel like wax shouldn’t be where I feel it right now.”
She puffs out a sigh. I make the mistake of tilting my head up to glimpse her camping headlamp shining on my nether regions like a beacon from heaven. She’s biting her lip in extreme concentration. All I can do is groan and hope she ends this with my sex organs in tact.
“You need a fucking landing strip, Win. Don’t deny it. Your first kiss happened after you jumped out of a plane. It’s so poetic I’m a little jealous honestly,” Gretchen explains. “He needs to fuck you the first time with a landing strip.” I roll my eyes even though they’re closed.
“Jesus, you’re so crass. Just hurry up, will you?” I lift my butt and put it back down. I pull my t-shirt down to gain some modicum of modesty. Gretchen smacks my hands away.
I hear the front door to our condo open and close. Morganna’s working voice echoes down the hallway. “Stay still. I’m going to rip this last one off. It’s on the side so it’s going to hurt,” Gretchen warns. I throw my arms over my face, completely embarrassed, and brace for the pain.
“This is the beginning of a horrible porno,” Morganna drawls from the doorway. I groan.
“It was her idea!” I bark out, my eyes still closed.
Gretchen rips the last of the wax off. The screaming pain rips down my leg and then all the way up to my head.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” I grab my throbbing crotch and pull my shirt down to cover it before I sit up on the table. Morganna, dressed like a nun, is stifling a giggle. Morg isn’t the giggling type, so that says a lot about this situation. Gretchen is just staring at me with huge eyes, like she’s waiting for me to swing a baseball bat in her direction.
“Assholes! Everyone is assholes,” I say, dashing for my bedroom. One look at my landing strip and I know that I need to turn on the hazard lights to ward off airplanes from landing in this airport. I am so pissed off at Gretchen and myself for agreeing to her absurd plan.
I pull the sexy lingerie out of my over night bag and stuff a silky pajama top in its place. My plans are completely ruined. My crotch is throbbing with an unwelcome sensation. I’m not sure I can even dance, or walk in high heels without looking like I have a stick up my ass.
“God dammit, Gretchen!” I yell. She told me she knows how to do this. The only