Page 138 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
The little pig hesitated for all of a millisecond before launching himself across the kitchen and into her arms. Moira hugged him tight, relieved beyond measure to have his warm, squirmy body pressed close to her heart.
“Who’s the bestest wittwe piggy ever?” Moira cooed, kissing the pig’s moist snout. “Who is he? What’s him’s name?”
“Well, I think that answers that question,” Aerin affirmed.
“But not all the others,” Tierra reminded them. “Why are you both soaking wet?”
“I sort of had to destroy the Horsemen’s compound to get Justine away from them,” Moira admitted. “Which reminds me.”
She set Cheeto down at her feet and resumed her place on the stool.
“While I was chained to Nick’s bed—”
“You were chained to Nick’s bed?” Claire asked, leaning forward, cheeks flushed with lurid excitement. “Kinky.”
“Not until later,” Moira continued. “But what I was saying—”
“Wait, wait, wait.” This time, Aerin had spoken up. Her cool mask of professionalism had slipped from its moorings just enough to reveal the passionately curious woman beneath. “Are you saying that you and Nick...?” Her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose with lascivious insinuation.
All eyes fixed on Moira.
Lord.There was no easy way to say this. “Yes. Okay? We had wild gorilla sex for hours on end on account of that’s what he asked for in exchange for killing me.”
Now it was their mouths, not their eyes wide open.
“But that’s not what I was trying to tell you,” Moira insisted, quickly losing her patience. “I saw newspapers, magazines, there were pictures and they all—”
“How big?” Aerin queried.
“The newspapers? I don’t—”
“His cock,” Aerin supplied, earning her a stern look from Tierra.
“Are we talking Economy, Standard, Full-Size, SUV—”
“Aerin!” Tierra scolded.
“Oh, hold your water, Tierra. Claire only pretend-fucked Dru. Julian is more conflicted and emotional than a dumpster full of teenage girls, and you fucked Death and wouldn’t give up a single detail. I just want a few juicy tidbits.”
“You ever seen one of them Hummer stretch limousines?” Moira asked.
“No,” Claire said, not in negation, but in disbelief.
“Yes ma’am. And what’s more, he can come about eighty-seven times in a row. Or something like that. I stopped counting after twenty.” Moira turned to Aerin. “And if you make any crack about my running out of digits to count on, I swear to the Goddess I’ll never give you another detail for the rest of our lives.”
Aerin made a silent gesture of zipping her lips.
“Good. What I was trying to say is—”
“You used protection, right? Please tell me you used protection.” Tierra ran her hand over the small rounded mound of her belly.
A worm of fear wriggled into Moira’s gut. “Not exactly…I thought
I was going to die anyway so—”
“Andhowmany times did you say he came?” Aerin’s voice was shrill as a whistle. “You could have like a hundred loads of Nick’s supersperm conquesting the shit out of your ovaries right now.”
Moira slapped both hands down on the kitchen island. “Listen to me. Eventhatwon’t matter if we don’t figure out a way to deal with this shit.”
