Shit, he needed a good fuck himself! And Dahlia was sure a succulent peach of a girl. He'd known about his father and the mulatto wench for years. His...bedroom was right next to his Dad's, and virtually every night, he could hear Dahlia's moans and screeches of carnal pleasure and the loud squeaking of the bed springs.He wandered through the house, looking around for his sister. She didn't seem to be about either. He frowned slightly. Well, maybe she'd gone over to Missy's house. He knew his. You ready?”“Ready when you are,” I called back as I grabbed the washcloth I had draped over the faucet, gave the counter a quick wipe down, and then hurriedly swigged the last of the wine. Not quickly enough, though. Before I could put my wine glass down, Steve came around the corner with a bag of laundry over each shoulder.“You finished off the wine?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.“There wasn’t much left. You had most of it.”“Well, maybe. But I weigh a good bit more than you. Tell you what –. More

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