Page 59 of Rest In Pieces
“And was it? The second time, I mean?”
I grin, remembering Darnell Jackson. “Oh yeah. Darnell might have turned out to be a cheating asshole, but fuck, his dick was something else. It was like the Excalibur of dicks—too bad I wasn’t the only one worthy of it, though.”
“His loss, but you totally dodged a bullet there. According to Page Six, his wife just filed for divorce after catching him with their kids' nanny. And now the nanny’s pregnant.”
“Guess he should’ve learned to wield that weapon of his more wisely.”
“Well, I have a funny feeling that G will surpass all your expectations.”
I grimace and look away, taking a drink of my milk, but not quickly enough.
“Amity Regan Hollis, what did you do?”
Uh-oh, she used my full name.
“I might have accidentally had sex with him when he was on set the other day,” I mutter, looking back at her.
She stands there with her hands on her hips, her face a mix of outrage and disbelief. “Firstly, how do you accidentally have sex with someone? Is this like when you tripped and fell on Jacob’s dick? Man, you really are clumsy. And secondly, how could you not tell me?”
“It’s not the same, thank you very much. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t plan on seeing his star-spangled dick ever again.”
“Star-spangled?” She tilts her head.
I swallow, feeling myself get flustered. “Let’s just say he has more piercings than the ones you’ve seen.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything, though I can see it’s killing her.
“He’s got a Jacob’s ladder. Only the bars are really pretty stars, which explains why fucking him felt heavenly,” I admit all in one breath.
She opens her mouth, then closes it again. She swallows and tries again. “Photos, or it didn’t happen.”
“What are you, thirteen? I didn’t take a picture of his dick.”
“Well, that’s rude. We’re friends. Friends share.”
“I’m not sharing his dick with you.”
“I don’t want his actual penis. I just want a picture for future reference.”
“No.”
“You’re so selfish,” she grumbles.
I roll my eyes and sit on the couch with my glass of milk.
She plops down next to me. “Tell me about it.”
“I’m not telling you about his nine-inch pierced and oh-so-pretty cock.”
She blinks. “I meant the sex, but I have a pretty good imagination. I can fill in the blanks.”
“You’re a perv.”
“Can a virgin be a pervert?”
“I’m pretty sure there are a bunch of serial killers out there that moved from their parents’ basements to a prison cell that can say, yes, virgins can definitely be perverts.”
She jumps up. “Are you saying you think I’m going to become a serial killer just because the one-eyed snake has never visited my lady garden?”