The night before Carter’s birthday party, Private Nine shows up at my Cape Cod. He carries a bottle of white wine and jeans packed with nine inches.
Of course, I welcome him inside. “What are you here for?”
“Seconds…or maybe longer.”
“What’s the maybe longer entail?”
“A date. Alone time with you. Something real.”
“Let’s have wine and talk about this.”
“With our mouths connecting, I hope.”
“I can arrange that, Nine.” I grab two wine glasses and fill them. We sit on the sofa, clink the glasses together, and sip.
“I’m not here to get lucky. Just so you know.”
“I wouldn’t judge you if you were. If you get lucky, that means I also get lucky. Besides, we both you know you’re always lucky.”
He chuckles. “Guess so. Point taken.”
He snuggles next to me on the sofa, burying one of his sho
