"Don't worry about it," I said. "Why don't I talk and you can listen?"

"Sounds good."

"I've been thinking about you a lot," I said hesitantly. "About what I plan to do to you when we finally get together again. I want it to be special, so I decided to do a little research."

"Oh really?" he asked, and while he still sounded tired, I caught a hint of something else, too. "You do this 'research' on another guy?"

I burst out laughing.

"Yeah, because there are so many available men in this house. Reapers don't count, especially annoying ones. No, I decided to download a book, get some ideas."

"Sounds interesting," he murmured. "What kind of ideas?"

"Well, you know I don't have tons of experience," I said. "So I figured if I wanted to do this right-s.e.x, I mean-it might be a good idea to read a manual. I bought the Guide to Getting It On. Interesting stuff. For example, did you know that most men are far more sensitive on the top half of their p.e.n.i.ses than the bottom half?"

"I haven't researched the wider population, but I'm not surprised," he said, sounding amused.

"Well, that's why it's so important that when I do finally get you alone, I make sure I spend a lot of time exploring the head first. I think it's the ... hmm, let me check my notes. The frenulum? You know, the little-"

He started laughing.

"Babe, two things. Don't use the word 'little' when you talk about my d.i.c.k, okay? And two, don't use the word 'frenulum.' Ever. Not that anything said in that voice of yours isn't s.e.xy, but it's sort of blocking the visual I'm trying to paint in my head."

I frowned. Last time we'd had phone s.e.x he took the lead. This was harder than I'd thought.

"Okay, well, it says I should take my time and explore that little notch on the bottom side. For example, I thought I might start by running my tongue all the way around, make sure I have a feel for the layout before doing anything else."

"That'll work," he said, his voice lowering.

"I have a theory," I said. "According to my book, some men prefer it when a woman sort of points her tongue and just uses the tip. Others like it when you really spread the tongue out, and rub the c.o.c.k's underside as you pull the head into your mouth."

He cleared his throat roughly.

"Yeah, that'd be okay."

I thought I heard the sound of his pants unzipping. I hoped to h.e.l.l I was right, because otherwise I might feel sheepish about the way my hand was sliding down into my sleep shorts.

"So here's my theory," I continued. "The book says the best way to find out is to just ask, and I can appreciate the efficiency in that. But I also think it would be really fun to experiment and decide for myself. You know, like a randomized series of tests so I can gather lots of data?"

"You're going to kill me," he grunted. "Less data, babe. More licking."

"Just a sec. I'm gonna grab my vibrator before I keep going."

"f.u.c.k."

"Yeah, that's the general idea."

I rolled over and dug out my trusty magic bullet, turning it on low. Not too much ... not at first.

"So I'm a little worried about how big you are," I said. "The book tells me I might want to consider licking you all over, until you're good and wet. Then I'll wrap my hand around the bottom so you can't accidentally go too deep. Think that might work?"

"Can't hurt to give it a shot," he muttered. "f.u.c.k. I love your voice, babe. You using that vibrator yet?"

"Uh-huh ..." I whispered. "I'm just laying it against my c.l.i.t right now, letting it sort of warm me up. I'm imagining what it'll feel like the first time I taste you. I'm a little nervous, so before I take you in my mouth, I'm going to explore that little slit at the top, okay? You know, try out some of your precome? I figure a little taste is just what I need to get a sense of how it'll be. Not sure if I want to swallow or not."

"Babe, I don't give a s.h.i.t if you swallow," he said, his voice strained. "Just don't stop talking."

I laughed, feeling powerful.

"I think I'll turn up my vibrator a little now. I'm rubbing it up and down, first on my c.l.i.t and then along my l.a.b.i.a. I feel really empty, though. I wish you were here, Hunter. I'll never forget how it felt when you first pushed into me. It hurt a little, but it was great, too. You know I'm still a little sore?"

"I've never felt anything as good as your c.u.n.t around my d.i.c.k, and that is the f.u.c.kin' truth."

"The good news is you'll feel it again soon. In fact, I wish you were feeling it right now."

"Why don't you slide a finger inside, check and see how things are going?" he asked. I propped the phone on my pillow next to my ear and then reached down to follow his instructions.

"Well, for one thing, I'm pretty wet already," I murmured, closing my eyes. "I guess the thought of sucking you off turns me on. Does that make me a s.l.u.t?"

"Only in the nicest possible sense of the word. Can you hear me jacking off? Because I swear, I'm pumping so hard it sounds like a freight train in here."

Oh s.h.i.t. That went straight to my center. I stuck another finger in, reaching for my G-spot. As usual, I couldn't quite get there.

Fortunately, my vibrator was available to compensate.

"I feel tingles and pressure running all down my body," I said. "I'm not there yet, but I will be there soon. I want your weight on top of me-"

I gasped, because the vibrator found a particularly sensitive spot. I felt my muscles tighten and my hips jerked.

"I'm getting close, Hunter."

"Liam," he muttered. "Call me Liam. f.u.c.k, I want to be inside you. s.h.i.t. Oh, f.u.c.k ..."

"Liam," I gasped as my back arched. "Holy s.h.i.t. I can't wait to do this in person."

He groaned in my ear, the sound harsh and tight.

"I'm coming," he said. "f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k."

He grunted into the phone. I imagined his hand on his c.o.c.k, the sight of his come squirting out. I started pumping my fingers in and out harder, pretending they were his. My c.l.i.t tightened, every muscle clenched, and then my hips lifted off the bed as I exploded.

"Ahhh ..." I lay still, panting into the phone.

It took a couple minutes to recover.

"You're pretty good at phone s.e.x," he said after a while, his voice low and growly.

"Thanks," I whispered. "I miss you."

"Miss you, too. I'm sorry, babe, but I'm really f.u.c.kin' tired, and blowing my wad just now didn't help."

"Go to sleep. I'll still be in Portland when you get back. Promise."

WEDNESDAY MORNING.

HUNTER: I feel like s.h.i.t telling you this, but I'm down in Cali again. Thought I'd make it today but had some business come up ME: Its okay. I understand :( That evening I watched nervously as Cookie slammed dishes around the kitchen. I wanted to offer to help, but I was a little scared of her. She'd been muttering about men, control, and how much she needed to get back to work.

I understood her frustration.

So far as I could tell, there was a whole lot of nothing going on. Deke wouldn't tell us anything, but Kit had been listening at doors back home. According to her, the Reapers were divided over who to blame for the shootings. Quite a few thought it was the cartel down south, but they couldn't rule out the Jacks, either.

So far they hadn't found any real evidence to prove who was behind the attacks. Until they could, a lot of questions would remain unanswered, and the Jacks would be suspect. Had Hunter's club broken the truce? Should we start hitting back?

n.o.body knew.

In the meantime, Deke wouldn't let Cookie go to her shop. He wouldn't let me go to work, either, which wasn't such a big deal because I'd just been picking up shifts as needed. But she could tell things were falling apart without her, and Deke didn't even seem to care.

On the bright side, the guys were back in their clubhouse, which meant the house wasn't full of bikers anymore. The water damage still needed to be fixed, but apparently it was workable. That was a big relief. Cookie didn't want her house to be a target, and even Deke had to acknowledge she had a point.

He still left guards with us, though, and he'd spent almost every night at her place. Silvie had moved into Cookie's room, so at least he had a bed. Of course, that bed was pink and covered with stuffed kittens.

Apparently, Deke was above worrying about such things.

Around six, the front door opened and Deke walked in ... home from work just like a 1950s sitcom, only with guns and cartels and lives at stake. Cookie came out of the kitchen, a determined look on her face and a plastic bag in her hand.

"Deke, we need to talk," she said, her tone ominous, thrusting the bag at me. "Em, would you keep an eye on Silvie? I have a Lunchable in here, and some fruit in case she's hungry. Not sure how long it'll take."

I nodded quickly.

"Out here or back in her room?" I asked, wondering what was the safest distance. I had a bad feeling about this ...

"Room might be best," Cookie said. Deke glanced over at the prospect he'd left with us that morning, who was watching uncomfortably.

"You can head out," he said, jerking his chin toward the door. "I've got it from here."

The prospect and I met eyes, and I'm pretty sure we were thinking the same thing. World War III was about to break out in that kitchen. I wished I could leave with him. Instead I grabbed Silvie and took her to my room.

Outside the house, I heard the prospect driving away. Coward.

"I'm hungry," Silvie declared. "Mom lets me eat the treat first."

Yeah, right.

"Start with the meat and crackers," I told her, peeling off the plastic and handing her the food. Then I wondered why I bothered-the chocolate was probably healthier than the waxy, fake cheese in the little carton. I dug a granola bar out of my purse for myself, wishing I'd thought to grab a Diet c.o.ke or something.

During the next hour, I read Silvie four books before starting a movie for her on my laptop. Then I crept out into the living room to scope out the situation.

I heard yelling in the kitchen, and then I heard something hit the wall and shatter.

I crept back into the bedroom.

Around eight Cookie knocked on the door.

"Sorry about that," she murmured. Her hair was all messed up and her cheeks were flushed.

"Deke still here?" I asked quietly.

She shook her head.

"Nope," she said. "He called someone else to come over. I think he's got some stuff to sort out ..."

"Everything okay?" I asked hesitantly.

She shrugged.

"Not sure," she admitted. "But he's gone for the night. I guess we'll see what happens tomorrow. I'm planning on going to work. If he's smart, he won't try to stop me."

Chapter Fifteen.

My phone rang at eleven that night.

"Yeah?" I asked, not quite asleep but not entirely awake, either.

"I just got back to town," Hunter said. "I know it's last minute, but can I come and pick you up?"

"Of course!" I said, a wave of excitement perking me up. "When?"

"I'm just down the street."

"Um, I need to grab some stuff," I said, glancing around frantically. "Give me fifteen minutes? Or at least ten?"

"Ten," he replied, his voice low and s.e.xy. "f.u.c.k, I can't wait to get my hands on you, babe. The s.h.i.t I'm gonna do to your body ... Don't forget to grab that dirty book of yours. You don't need clothes, but the book sounds like my kind of reading."