Page 82 of Lust

I shrug. "Same thing I was always doing. I was spying on the Hamilton girls next door in the pool."

She pretends to gag. "You are so disgusting."

"Guilty."

"Okay, your turn," she asks, playing with the empty glass, spinning it around on the floor.

"I know everything about you," I say.

She rolls her eyes. "Prove it, sure I like Caramello Koalas now, but what did I like when I was a kid?"

I roll my eyes in response. "Come on, give me a hard one!"

"Stop stalling," she laughs, pouring about $20 worth of Grey Goose XV vodka into her mouth, ignoring the drops that slide down her cheek.

Sliding my hand up her bare thigh, I revel in the knowledge that I can just reach out and touch her. "You liked boysenberry ice cream and Diet Dr. Pepper."

She looks surprised. "How did you know that?"

Her voice brings a smile to me face and I kiss her gently. "Because I have eye balls! What didIlike?"

She scrunches up her face. "I have no idea."

I steal another kiss. "Youlose. Your turn to go pick a bottle."

She gets up, pads over in her bare feet, staring at the wall of liqueur bottles that now has some holes in it. "James is going to kill you," she warns me.

"Kill me? You're the one who picked the Watenshi Gin. It took him over three weeks to find one, and he had to drive to Rochester to get it."

She gives up and reaches for the closest bottle, a bottle of Jagermeister. "How do you know that?" she says, skipping back to our little oasis in the middle of her clubroom floor.

I pretend to gag as she pours some into my mouth. "We're going to be really sick tomorrow."

"Good." She takes a drink and makes the same face I did, making me laugh. "Answer the question. How did you know how James got this bottle?"

I put the lid back on and return it behind the bar. "He told me," I say, grabbing a bottle of Kopke 380thAnniversary Tawny Port.

"He didn't tell me."

I grab some port glasses and join her again on the floor. "Well, did you ask him?"

She looks so cute trying to think. I grab her hand and pull her into my lap, nuzzling her neck from behind. "It's okay. You're pretty. And you smell like figs and vanilla. And sometimes supermarket chocolate."

She pulls a face. "That makes up for me being a cold hearted bitch?"

I nibble at the crook where her neck meets her shoulder, little nips that make her yelp when I do it too hard.

She pivots in my lap, trying to glare at me. "Um, excuse me, did you hear me? I said,'that makes up for me being bitch?'" she repeats.

"Oh, Iheardyou, Rissie."

Growling, she grabs the glass out of my hand and takes a drink. "And what are you going to say about it?"

I sigh. "Well, I can't speak for other people, but yes, being cute and smelling like Dior makes up for you being a bitch."

"Hey!" she yells and punches me in the arm. "I'm not a bitch."

I take her hand and kiss the palm. "Rissie. Come on."

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