her wrist, and grinned. "I'm dead. Really. Maybe after I get some sleep."
"Since when have you ever been too tired for a blowjob, Johnny?"
"Since I stayed up all night sewing up goat entrails and burying a woman's pets so mangled up by barbed wire you could hardly tell what they were any longer."
"But you've always said that sex renews your vitality."
Dolores eased down onto her knees, her hands sliding between his thighs. "Did you make love to Leah, Johnny?"
Closing his eyes, he shook his head.
"Not even a kiss, for old time's sake?"
He twisted his fingers into her hair and gritted his teeth.
"Did you? Kiss her?"
Groaning, Johnny fell back against the shower wall, allowing the water to cascade down his chest and belly, onto Dolores's head and shoulders. It poured down her cheeks and into her mouth as her lips parted, sliding like a tight-fitting glove onto his organ, which had become aroused despite himself.
"Yes," he finally replied. "I kissed her. For old time's sake."
"And did you enjoy it?"
"No." He shook his head and turned his face into the hot spray. "No."
"You never had the kind of sex with her that we have, did you, Johnny?" She flicked him with her tongue, fast, like the fluttering of a hummingbird's wing.
"She never gave me a blow job, if that's what you mean. She was too … innocent. I would never have asked it of her."
"What about now? Would you ask it of her now? Would she go down on you like I do, do you think?"
He closed his eyes. His fingers, bunched in Dolores's wet hair, gripped her head as his entire body turned hard as stone and his breath caught somewhere in his chest and would not budge. Leah's face shimmered before his mind's eye like a rainbow through the runnels of silver water flowing from his brow, her incredible blue eyes drowsy with passion, lips swollen by his kiss, cheeks flushed with a desire that both mystified and embarrassed her.
With a groan and a pump of his hips, he succumbed like flotsam in a whirlpool to the pull of Dolores's mouth.
A hematoma the size of a tennis ball had sprouted on Johnny's mare's stifle. Leah briefly considered using that as an excuse not to live up to her promise to Shamika to go to her support group that afternoon, but, at the last minute, she climbed into Shamika's van and drove into town. Her attendance of the support meetings had been sporadic the last few weeks. When she felt strong, she braved the challenge. When she felt weak, she holed up in her house and buried her head in animal medicine. But, as Shamika pointed out, it was the times that she felt the weakest that she needed support the most.
And she was feeling pretty damn weak today … and all because of Johnny.
Shelley Darmon, a beautiful honey-blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a model's lithe figure, smiled brightly as Leah entered the room. She waved and motioned to the empty chair next to her. Others turned, rewarding Leah with welcomes and outstretched hands whose touches were as firm and assuring as anchors in turbulent water.
Shelley hugged her, holding her close even as Leah tried to pull away. "It's been much too long," she said. "How is Val?"
"Doing great. It's me I'm not so sure about."
"That's why we're here."
Leah eased down into the folding chair that was one of a dozen situated in a circle, spoke and smiled to the women who seemed eager to draw her into conversation. Yes, her vet practice was starting to take off. No, she had not gotten around to reading the James Herriot books yet, but she would, she promised, as soon as she got caught up with all her paperwork, and … no, she had not yet received the Special-Needs Parent Bulletin. Was there anything exciting to report? No new medications? Theories?
Certainly, she would be happy to help their fund drive. To say the children needed a new school bus was an understatement. The way it limped up the road, she was surprised that it ever made it to school.
Would Senator Foster consider sponsoring the drive? His
"Since when have you ever been too tired for a blowjob, Johnny?"
"Since I stayed up all night sewing up goat entrails and burying a woman's pets so mangled up by barbed wire you could hardly tell what they were any longer."
"But you've always said that sex renews your vitality."
Dolores eased down onto her knees, her hands sliding between his thighs. "Did you make love to Leah, Johnny?"
Closing his eyes, he shook his head.
"Not even a kiss, for old time's sake?"
He twisted his fingers into her hair and gritted his teeth.
"Did you? Kiss her?"
Groaning, Johnny fell back against the shower wall, allowing the water to cascade down his chest and belly, onto Dolores's head and shoulders. It poured down her cheeks and into her mouth as her lips parted, sliding like a tight-fitting glove onto his organ, which had become aroused despite himself.
"Yes," he finally replied. "I kissed her. For old time's sake."
"And did you enjoy it?"
"No." He shook his head and turned his face into the hot spray. "No."
"You never had the kind of sex with her that we have, did you, Johnny?" She flicked him with her tongue, fast, like the fluttering of a hummingbird's wing.
"She never gave me a blow job, if that's what you mean. She was too … innocent. I would never have asked it of her."
"What about now? Would you ask it of her now? Would she go down on you like I do, do you think?"
He closed his eyes. His fingers, bunched in Dolores's wet hair, gripped her head as his entire body turned hard as stone and his breath caught somewhere in his chest and would not budge. Leah's face shimmered before his mind's eye like a rainbow through the runnels of silver water flowing from his brow, her incredible blue eyes drowsy with passion, lips swollen by his kiss, cheeks flushed with a desire that both mystified and embarrassed her.
With a groan and a pump of his hips, he succumbed like flotsam in a whirlpool to the pull of Dolores's mouth.
A hematoma the size of a tennis ball had sprouted on Johnny's mare's stifle. Leah briefly considered using that as an excuse not to live up to her promise to Shamika to go to her support group that afternoon, but, at the last minute, she climbed into Shamika's van and drove into town. Her attendance of the support meetings had been sporadic the last few weeks. When she felt strong, she braved the challenge. When she felt weak, she holed up in her house and buried her head in animal medicine. But, as Shamika pointed out, it was the times that she felt the weakest that she needed support the most.
And she was feeling pretty damn weak today … and all because of Johnny.
Shelley Darmon, a beautiful honey-blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a model's lithe figure, smiled brightly as Leah entered the room. She waved and motioned to the empty chair next to her. Others turned, rewarding Leah with welcomes and outstretched hands whose touches were as firm and assuring as anchors in turbulent water.
Shelley hugged her, holding her close even as Leah tried to pull away. "It's been much too long," she said. "How is Val?"
"Doing great. It's me I'm not so sure about."
"That's why we're here."
Leah eased down into the folding chair that was one of a dozen situated in a circle, spoke and smiled to the women who seemed eager to draw her into conversation. Yes, her vet practice was starting to take off. No, she had not gotten around to reading the James Herriot books yet, but she would, she promised, as soon as she got caught up with all her paperwork, and … no, she had not yet received the Special-Needs Parent Bulletin. Was there anything exciting to report? No new medications? Theories?
Certainly, she would be happy to help their fund drive. To say the children needed a new school bus was an understatement. The way it limped up the road, she was surprised that it ever made it to school.
Would Senator Foster consider sponsoring the drive? His
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