I watched for about two minutes, increasingly horny for him, but he paid no attention to me. When I sat up in bed, he righted himself and looked in my direction.
“You forgot to mention your folks are possessed by Satan,” I said, my eyes raking over his body with obvious desire. “But what’s a little psychosis among friends?”
“Don’t start.”
“Preparing the way for the Antichrist, are they?”
“Wiley…”
“Making the world safe for ax murderers and rape gangs?”
“Wiley…”
“There’s nothing wrong with them that can’t be fixed with a chain saw and a bathtub full of hydrochloric acid. Just ask my Uncle Jerry. Ooops. Sorry. You can’t!”
“Very funny.”
“A shotgun would be faster, but it makes a hell of a mess.”
“Ha, ha, ha.”
“Come here,” I ordered.
Obediently, he padded across the carpet and stood before me. I put my hands on his hips. “Wanna fool around?”
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Now that’s why you don’t get invited to the really cool parties.”