Chapter 5

Carter follows me like a little puppy dog; I’m surprised she doesn’t yap that he has to take a piss in the yard. Once inside the bungalow, she rushes for the dry bar and makes a “cocktail”: straight gin.

“Make me one, please.”

“Of course, darling.”

I strip out of my dress shirt and drop it over the sofa. Carter blares, “My God! What the fuck happened to your back? There are bite marks all over it.”

I chuckle and fill her in on my quick fuck with my bar-bear.

“You didmake him wear protection, right?” Queen Carter flops a stereotypically limp wrist at me. She’s simply adorable in a pair of late summer capris, sandals, and a silk blouse.

“I did. You know I’m always careful.”

“That’s a relief. So you enjoyed your strange?”

“I always enjoy my strange. The stranger the better.” I laugh and head into the kitchen to whip up two salads with oil and vinegar and grab an orange roughy for the grill.