20. Pralines and Cream #2
"Your guilt tripping won't work on me, Pip," I say, playfully narrowing my eyes. "I know your kind. I'm very familiar with these sorts of tricks."
"Come on," Pippa whines like a child, glancing over at Marlow. "Mar! Help me out here!"
"She's not gonna drop this, Sav," Marlow says, tossing popcorn in the air and catching it in her mouth. "Might as well spill the beans, or else we'll be here til dawn."
"Fine!" I concede with a huff, sitting up straight. "Well, I guess this actually all started when you gave me that book."
Pippa frowns. "What book? "
I shoot her a knowing scowl. “ That book.”
"No fucking way!" Pippa beams as she releases a boisterous laugh. "That's awesome. In a small way, it's like I'm your pimp. So? How did it happen? Where did it happen? How many times? Was it good?"
Oh boy.
For the next forty-five minutes, I give Pippa and Marlow a play-by-play of my timeline with Jesse, spilling more details the longer I talk uninterrupted. My friends gobble up every word as I bring everyone up to date on my sexual shenanigans.
"You should call him that," Pippa finally says, refilling her marg glass as she nibbles on a hard shell taco. "It's hot."
"No way," I say, shaking my head. "I can't say that with a serious face. It's gross. It's like...incestual."
"Oh, grow up, Sav." Pippa rolls her eyes. "It's the same thing as calling someone baby . Are they really your baby? Your offspring? Your child? No. It's like a term of sexy endearment."
"Yeah." Marlow snorts, legs flung over the side of the armchair. "He's not your daddy, daddy; he's your dick daddy." She wiggles her brows, chucking. "Dick Daddy Jesse. Got a nice ring to it."
"I'm sorry, but I can't do it," I protest, popping a pretzel in my mouth. "It's just not in my nature. I'm not?—"
"Also," Pippa interrupts me, "I think we've got to work on your dirty talk a bit."
I blink. "My dirty talk?"
"Yeah, your dirty talk," Pippa confirms. "You can moan and groan all you want, but you gotta throw a few words in the mix."
"I do!" I insist, offended. "I said harder , didn't I?"
"Yeah, but you gotta be like"—Marlow sits up abruptly, fisting the armchairs—"Fuck me harder. Yes, daddy. Oh my God, fuck, yes, just like that. Yes, yes, yes, fuck this pussy. Fuck me! Fill me with your cock?—"
My jaw hits the ground.
"Shh! My kids are playing in the next room!" Pippa bursts out in a fit of obnoxious laughter while Marlow continues to assault my eardrums. "Mar! Stop! I can't!"
Marlow shrugs, retreating back into her lounging position. "Something like that."
"I...I feel violated right now," I say, unable to blink as I stare at my baby brother's future wife. "That was..."
"Your first lesson," Pippa chimes in, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Next one, Marlow should charge you."
"Not a bad idea"—Marlow snorts—"given that Sav is as vanilla as they come. I'd make a killing."
"Vanilla?!" I cross my arms. "I let the man deep throat me, and I nearly choked and died! Is that vanilla to you?!"
"Mommy?" Pippa's three-year-old peeps from a couple of yards away, lip quivering as she holds a vanilla ice cream cone. She glances at her bedtime treat and back at her mom. "I don't want to choke and die!"
"Oh honey," Pippa coos, trying not to laugh.
The color washes from my face, and Marlow covers her mouth as Isobel runs over to Pippa.
I'm going to hell for traumatizing this child, aren't I?
"You're not going to die. We weren't talking about ice cream.
.." She pauses, thinking of a lie. "We were talking about—" She gives up real quick.
"Doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're not going to die, okay? "
Isobel sniffles. "But it's vanilla..."
"Exactly." Marlow chuckles, shooting me a loaded side-eye. "It's pure vanilla, Iz. The safest of all the ice creams." She winks at the toddler. "Now, pralines and cream? I don't know..."
"Shut up!" Pippa hisses under her breath, waving Marlow off before kissing her daughter. "Why don't you go watch some TV with Ellie, okay? I'll be there soon to tuck you guys in."
"Okay..."
Pippa waits for her daughter to leave the room before throwing a pillow at Marlow's head. "Pralines?!"
"I don't know!" Marlow huffs, chucking the pillow back at Pippa. "I was just trying to help! If you're going to be mad at someone, be mad at Sav, I wasn't the one who said deep throat in front of a child."
"Stop," I whine. "I didn't see her standing there!"
"It's fine." Pippa sighs. "I'm sure she'll forget about it in the morning." She glares at Marlow. "Either that, or we'll have some interesting visits to the ice cream parlor in the future."
My phone vibrates with a text from Jesse as Marlow and Pippa continue to argue. "All right, I gotta go," I say, standing up and dusting the crumbs off my shirt. "Jesse's here."
Marlow winks. "You mean daddy ."
"No," I state with a grunt. "I mean Jesse ." I look around the living room for my purse. Marlow finds the strap, scoops it up, and hugs it against her chest. Seriously? "Can I have my bag?"
"What's the magic word?" Marlow taunts, lifting a brow.
I tap my foot. "Please?"
Marlow grins like the She-Devil. “Please, what?"
"Mar!" I stomp over, struggling to yank my purse from her hands. "Come on! Jesse's going to get mad if I make him wait. Let go!"
"Oh no!" Marlow laughs, refusing to let go. "Daddy's going to get mad? Is daddy going to spank us?" In a baby voice, she adds, "Is daddy going to punish us for being such a bad little girl?"
"Marlow!" I whine, swatting her hands away. "My gosh! Stop it! What if he hears you?!"
"Then daddy will be super-duper mad, won't he?" Marlow continues cackling before finally letting go of my purse. She smirks up at me. "Better hurry, Savvy. Don't wanna keep daddy waiting."
"I'm going to pretend that the last ten minutes didn't happen.
" I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as I loop my bag around my shoulder.
"There. Erased from memory." I look over at Pippa.
"Thanks for having me over, Pip. Dinner was lovely.
The company, on the other hand"—I glare at Pip and Mar—"could use a little work. "
"Oh, shut up." Marlow snorts. "You love us."
"Of course she does," Pippa says, blowing me a kiss as I head to the front door and slip on my boots. "Get home safe, Sav! I liked your bake sale and auction idea. I'll text you about it tomorrow!"
"Goodnight," I call out, exiting Pippa's house. I need a dang Advil. I wave at Jesse, who's parked on the street, the window of his truck rolled down.
Through the door, I hear both my annoying friends shout in unison, "Goodnight, daddy!"
Assholes!
I bolt down the driveway and jump into the truck, praying my cheeks aren’t crimson.
"Rough night?" Jesse asks, pulling onto the street. I twist my neck in his direction, and he grins. "What happened?"
"Pralines and cream," I mutter, mentally running through Marlow's unsolicited advice. "Pralines and damn cream."
Jesse blinks. "What?"
"Just drive."