I go home with thoughts of Peck on my mind. A celebration is in order, so I stop and buy things to cook for dinner, and the right ingredients for dessert. I love having someone to cook for. I like taking care of her. And I can’t wait to see her again.
Peck
A paper clip bounces off the side of my head, and I jump. Wren waves at me from across the room. “Earth to Peck,” she chants. She throws up her hands in question. “What is up with you?”
“She’s thinking about Sam Reed’s dick,” Fin says over a laugh. I throw the paperclip at her and she lifts her hands to deflect it.
“I was n-not thinking about Sam’s dick,” I mumble. I might have been thinking about his tongue. Or maybe his fingers. But I wasn’t thinking about his dick—not until Fin mentioned it, at least.
“Hey,” I whisper to Fin. “Have you ever slept w-with a guy who has a piercing?”
“Sam has his dick pierced?” she says really loudly. She cups a hand around her ear like she’s a little old lady with an ear trumpet for better hearing. “Did I hear you right?”
“Would you shut up?” I grumble. But I’m laughing too. I can’t help it.
We’re at the recording studio so that we can record some new vocals for one of the songs on our upcoming album. They weren’t quite perfect. We’re waiting for the guy who runs the board to get here.
My sisters were spread out around the room, but now they all head in my direction.
“So Sam is pierced, huh?” Wren asks. She grins. “Figures you would get the good Reed.”
“She got the last Reed left,” Lark pretends to grumble.
“I think they’re all pierced, so it’s a moot point.” Fin grins and waggles her brows.
“How would you know?” Wren pretends to be offended by the fact that Fin might know something the rest of us don’t.
“Emily told me.” She shrugs. “But it does suck that you got the last Reed.”
“There’s still Seth,” Fin reminds us all.
“True,” Wren says. “And he’s hot. Even though he’s not a blond.” He’s like the opposite of blond, with his swarthy good looks. I’m pretty sure his mom was half black and half white, and his dad was Latino, so he has a mass of dark, silky, curly hair and eyes the color of fall. He’s handsome, and on top of all that, he’s funny and charming. And hot. “He’s too young, though.”
“He’s the same age you are,” I remind Wren.
“He seems so much younger,” Wren replies.
“So about that piercing…” Fin says. She laughs and rubs her hands together like she’s chafing them. “Tell us more.”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. “I don’t know anything about a piercing.” I’m a bad liar, and they all know it.
“You slept with him,” Fin says, deadpan.
“Well…” I hedge.
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Wren breathes. “You did Sam Reed?”
“No, I didn’t do him.” I let my voice drop down really low. “He kind of did me.”
All my sisters’ eyebrows rise and their mouths fall open. Fin points rather obscenely toward her crotch. “He took it downtown? Ate at the Y? Had a box lunch?”
I don’t answer, but the heat on my face must tell the story well, because Fin slaps her thighs and starts to laugh.
“I knew that boy would be good. Can I have him when you’re finished with him?”
“I’m not going to f-finish with him.” I pick up a stapler and pretend to fix it, even though I’m pretty sure there’s nothing wrong with it.
“So, how was it?” Fin asks.
“Good,” I squeak.
Fin is the one who has all the one-nighters, and she’s not afraid to talk about sex in any way, shape, or form. Star is the prude, and she’s glaring at us from across the room with a frown on her face. I pull Fin to the side so only she can hear me.
“So, tell me what you do with it,” I whisper.
“Do with what? It’s a dick. You plant it. You water it. You watch it grow. Maybe not in that order.”
“I know what to do with a dick. But what do you do with a piercing?”
“Let it pleasure you. That’s about it.” She steals my bag of popcorn and pops a piece into her mouth.
“So you don’t, like, have to do anything with it?”
“Nope. You might lick around it or something. But even that’s not necessary. It’s for aesthetics more than anything. And the naughty factor.” She narrows her eyes. “So, did you get off?”
“Um…yep. Quickly.” I blow out a breath. Really quickly. “Mad skills.”
“And how did you feel after?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you feel used? Pressured? Pushed? Uncomfortable?”
“God, no. He was really sweet.” I smile at the thought of how he touched me. Softly, but firmly. Reverently. Respectfully.
“Then what’s your problem?”
“What makes you think I have a problem?”
Her left brow rises. “Because you always have problems in the sack. Although I’m still not sure why.”
Fin is just about the opposite of me. She’s short and blonde and fun-sized. Emilio used to call her Snickers and joked that he could put her in his pocket.
“I would kill for a body like yours,” Fin says.