Page 82 of The All-Inclusive

“Not at all.”

Holding her hand feels natural, but I want to make sure she’s okay with it. “Is this all right?” I ask, squeezing her fingers.

“Of course.” A light little laugh slips out of her. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Uh, thanks?” I make sure to throw her a smile so she knows I’m just teasing.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She wiggles her fingers against mine. “Just that it feels so easy and normal, you know?”

“Yeah.” I definitely do.

As we pick our way across the pool deck, I circle back to her question. “I’ve done my fair share of pegging enchantments, with Sybil and others.” I shouldn’t assume she knows what that means. “That means I’ve been on the receiving end of a dildo attached to a harness.”

“I kinda figured.” A nervous giggle slips out of her. “Camille used the termpegginga while ago and I looked it up. I was just curious how you felt about butt stuff.”

“I’m highly in favor of butt stuff.” Swinging our linked hands between us, I lead us down the stairs to the sand. “And before you ask, I’m cool with being on the giving or receiving end, whether it’s a strap-on or a flesh-and-blood?—”

“Oh.” There’s a sharp intake of breath and I glance over to see that she’s blushing again. “It’s funny, I asked Trent about this the other day.”

“About butt stuff?”

“Yes.” It’s not physically possible for her face to get redder, but she forges ahead like a trooper. “It isn’t something he’s done before. I mean—he’s only been with that one other guy, but I guess they didn’t do that.”

Interesting. “Is he…opposed to the idea?”

“I don’t think so.” Her expression turns thoughtful. “He sounds kinda intrigued, but a little unsure.”

“Oh yeah?” I’m keeping my voice as even as possible, not letting on that I’m curious as hell. “What’s behind the hesitation?”

“Probably his dad.”

An electric jolt rattles my bones. If Trent was sexually abused by his father, that explains some of his hangups. “Did his father, uh?—”

“No! God, no. That’s not what I meant.” She nibbles her lip like she does when she’s nervous. “It’s just—that was his dad’sfavorite slur, you know? If Mr. James wanted to insult somebody, he’d suggest they liked to—you know.” Blushing again, she shoots me a desperate look.

“Get fucked in the ass? Banged up the butt?” It feels like I’m playing a bad game of charades.

“Yes, and worse language than that.” She gnaws on her poor lip again. “From the time Trent was little, that was the insult Mr. James would hurl at him. Didn’t make first string on the football team his freshman year? Must be a fan of having his fudge packed.” She blanches. “I’m sorry. That was crude. I’m only repeating what he said because it’s so awful. And I think it kinda stuck in Trent’s head.”

This explains so much about Trent. I feel for the guy, I do. “It’s hard for me to wrap my head around a parent who’d intentionally insult their kid. That’s emotional abuse.”

“Oh, for sure. And it’s how Trent grew up.” Her small hand twitches in mine. “I shouldn’t talk about him when he’s not here. Maybe it’s not part of the Marshmallow Mandate, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“I hear ya.”

“Let’s change the subject, okay?”

“Sure, of course.” I’m not ready to ditch the subject of families completely. It’s fascinating stuff. “Your parents weren’t cruel like that, were they?”

“No, definitely not.” She sounds relieved to shift to happier topics. “My parents were strict but loving. Family first, always. That’s a big deal with us.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was. My sisters and I had a pretty idyllic childhood. I guess that’s why I’m so eager for a family of my own.” There’s that hand twitch again, like she’s thinking of something that makes her uncomfortable. “Do you want kids, Logan?”

“Hell yeah.”

She laughs like that surprises her. “Really?”