Fireball (Cheap Thrills 1)

“I feel you, Tabby, but DB is one of the best guys around. Never known him to arrest a girl for a date, or take her sister to have a baby either. You need to go on that date with him and his handcuffs.”

Closing my eyes, I thought over what Dave had done for me since I’d gotten here, and arresting aside, he’d been pretty damn awesome, I’d grant him that. And when he’d cuffed me tonight, he’d made sure he didn’t hurt my sore wrist. But we were complete opposites, and I believed whole-heartedly in compatibility and shit like that. If you were the total opposite of someone else, where would you be compatible? Sex didn’t make for anything deep, and I didn’t do meaningless sex. I could get that from my vibrator – who’d recently received its first name. Vibrating Dave.

Before I could say anything back, I felt a mouth press against mine through the gap, and my eyes flew open. For a millisecond I’d worried it was an escaped convict, but then common sense had caught up with me. That didn’t mean I wasn’t relieved at the confirmation that it was Dave who was kissing me. Damn straight I was.

My mouth opened of its own free will, the betraying body part, and then his tongue was gently flicking into my mouth. I was lost. Lost in the taste of him, lost to the realization of him being a good guy, lost to the feelings that had hit me rethinking everything he’d done for me and Jose, lost to the smell of his cologne…

“Yo, if you guys are gonna do it, lemme know so I can go home. I just got told I can be a kinky book narrator so I’ve got some research to do. Maybe I can do those noises for porn, like a voiceover in case the dude’s is high pitched and squeaky.” My neighbor shouted from his cell.

Pulling back until only the tips of our noses were touching, Dave whispered, “You gonna go on that date with me then?”

I didn’t even need to think twice when I answered him. “Hell yes, I am.”

Dave had just moved in for another kiss, this time grinning, when the sound of Jarrod singing Kiss The Girl from The Little Mermaid distracted me. Still, I enjoyed that kiss. And how many women could say they kissed a man who’d arrested them twice, through the door of their cell, with a man who was going to have a future in erotic book narration who was singing a song from a Disney movie?

See – be you, and you become your own normal.Chapter EightTabbyThe fact I was holding Olivia was the only reason my sister was still breathing the oxygen she was using to laugh about my second arrest.

“I can’t believe he did it again,” she howled into the cushion from my couch. If I held it over her face, just a little bit… “And you told Jarrod, Jarrod Kline, he had a career in reading erotica books. I just can’t.” She ended it by tipping her head back and cackling like a hyena at my ceiling. “The guy’s like… he’s huge. And he lifts cars for fun.”

More than likely that’s an exaggeration, but it would have been a shame to have a voice like his and be five-foot-four. I’m not being size-ist, if that’s even what it’s called, but all I could think of was the dude from The Green Mile or Idris Elba, not Ricky Bobby (yes, that was his real name) who’d grown up next door to me and had stopped growing at the age of twelve.

Refusing to give her a reaction and anymore details, something I should have probably not done to begin with, I focused on my sleeping niece and watched her little bow lips twitch. I wonder what babies dreamed about? Boobies? Milk? The moment they shot out of a vagina?

When Jose continued laughing, I refrained from launching the full bottle of booby milk at her head that was on the table beside me, and waited for Olivia to open her eyes. Jose’s milk had come in, and she was now expressing it with a new breast pump so we could feed Olivia with a bottle. Apparently she wasn’t comfortable whipping out boobzilla and her mammaronis in public to feed the baby, so this was a good compromise.

A glance at the time showed that Liv should be waking up soon, and that might shut her evil mom up. Maybe telling her a story would help her along?

“Once there was an evil witch who lived in a castle in… Tearsville with a beautiful little princess called Olivia. The evil witch loved to watch bad things happen to people, like the stunning princess Nabiba,” this really was a lame story, but in my defense I’d never had to make one up on the spot before. “The evil witch, Hose, because she was a ho, laughed at how princess Nabiba had a weird prince who kept locking her in his tower.”