Blended TML Ch 38

Brise and Katya are sex workers. In retrospect, that isn’t a surprise. Looks like they’re here for a job. And Tiffany isn’t just a cougar doing well for herself and enjoying life—she seems to be a person of serious means. Means and what, exactly? Just what the hell is she up to with Brise and Katya? It can’t be just about sex, or they wouldn’t be at this party.

Piper’s curiosity intensifies. Only one thing calls to her and pulls her in more irresistibly than potentially naughty information that is none of her goddamn business: Ines’s morning wood. Ines is circumcised, and her cock is a little shorter and stouter than Riley’s. She sleeps like a barbarian starfish, always nude, even if nothing sexy has happened, that erection evoking a lighthouse with its ever-present bead of moisture at the tip.

The memory makes Piper’s eye twitch. Ines is on the other side of the world right now. Piper has more pressing business.

Dinner is no longer a party. Mary rallies and does a semblance of holding up her end of lighthearted conversation, but it’s forced. Some guys hit on them and are easily shooed away with the revelation that not only is Mary married, but she’s also married to a woman. That does seem to cheer her up a little bit; the guys were tolerably hot. Almost as fit as Flynn, almost as gentlemanly as Graham. But with Mary, Ines, Tiffany, Brise, and Katya on her mind, Piper isn’t even slightly tempted.

They don’t dance, and it’s a pregnant drive back to the cabin. Mary’s antsy, and Piper knows why.

“You want to stop?” she asks as they wait at a red light.

Mary grips the handhold above her door. “I shouldn’t.”

This is the wrong time to worry about Mary’s relationship with drinking. Piper isn’t half as good at reading minds as she thinks she is, but Mary’s not difficult right now. She wants to drink; she knows there’s some cider left at the cabin, but she isn’t sure how much. She doesn’t want to be caught without enough to drink, so she wants to stop and get something just to have peace of mind that she will have it. That is 100% a sign of a problem, but there’s a right time and a wrong time for that conversation about finding better ways to cope.

“Executive Decision.”

Mary frowns. “Huh?”

“It’s either a really old movie with a mind-blowingly stacked cast, or my way of saying that I’m taking it out of your hands.” Piper pulls into a gas station and turns, putting her arm over Mary’s seat and hitting her with big eye contact. “It’s dark. Let’s go sit on the dock topless and drink canned Mai Tais.”

Mary’s eyes narrow. Moments pass.

“While you talk about your feelings,” Piper adds.

“God damn it, Piper.”

“Those are my conditions.”

“I don’t want Mai Tais. What am I, twelve?”

“What do you want?”

“A G&T.”

“I’ll run in and get it.”

“Tanqueray makes them. Classy green cans,” Mary says.

Piper chuckles. “Cans.”

“Grow up, Piper.”

“You’re the one acting like a hurt schoolgirl.”

Mary deflates. “Yeah. Sorry.”