Chapter Fifteen
En Garde
I lost two precious minutes hustling my ass over to Vixen’s Den, and I wasn’t at all subtle about it. I roared in on my H-D Fat Boy, revving hard to make sure everyone who wasn’t deaf or dead could hear me coming. I barely took the time to put the kickstand in place before I blasted through the shop’s glass door. My gaze immediately sought out Ginger, standing with Roxie behind the counter, her jewel-like eyes wide and mouth tight.
Irritated, but in one piece.
Cool.
I could live with that.
On the other side of the counter, a black-haired man turned to face me. He towered over everyone but me, and had virtually the same build. Shit, if we’d been besties we could fucking wear each other’s clothes. Dressed in distressed jeans, a clean black jacket—no tags or patches—a navy blue jersey underneath and lace-up black boots, he looked like the typical biker-wannabe, complete with wind-combed black hair hanging just above his shoulders. In the process of hanging his aviator sunglasses off his collar, he looked at me with light-colored khaki eyes that reminded me of my old man.
Marvel’s replacement.
Aha.
I watched hostility flare in those eyes the moment I walked in. Good. So glad this asshole understood the situation.
“Red Flag, in the flesh.” I grinned, and wondered if it looked as serial-killer-ish as it felt. “Damn, dude. You must have balls the size of grapefruit, coming on to my property like you think you have every fucking right to do so.”
The interloper’s gaze flicked to Ginger and back again. “She’s not wearing anyone’s patch. That means she’s fair game.”
“Oh, he’s talking about actual property. You know, like real estate.” Ever the helpful one, Ginger chose to jump into this conversation like I needed a damn interpreter. Normally that would have pissed me off, but the way she watched the other man, like he was a junkyard dog known for tearing people limb from limb, sweetened my mood like nothing else. “Red Flag, this is my landlord and the man who owns this property, Tyr Colgrave.”
Roxie jolted. “ He’s our landlord? Since when?”
“Since always. I’ll tell you later.”
“Snap, I don’t think introductions are necessary, though I do appreciate your graceful display of manners. Fact is, I’d be willing to bet Red Flag knows exactly who I am.” Since I was talking to my woman, I did my best to keep my tone respectful, even complimentary. But even I could hear the need to murder boiling through my tone. Oh, well. “Just as I’m sure the spineless, spying bastard standing before me understands what I said, and that I meant every fucking word. So,” I added, taking a step deeper into the shop and closer to him, “why don’t you run on home like a good little boy and report all that you’ve seen to that decrepit, twisted piece of shit across town. Not that you’ve seen all that much. Gotta say, allowing yourself to get distracted by all the pasties and rhinestones here at Vixen’s Den makes you one shitty spy.”
“Spy?” I heard Ginger’s faint whisper before her gaze snapped to Red Flag, and her pale gray eyes hardened to icy diamonds. “I fucking knew it.”
That seemed to be the cue Red Flag had been waiting for. He launched at me in one explosive move, but I was ready for it. Time seemed to slow down as he barreled toward me in a classic wrestler’s tackle. I turned into it and whipped around with a crescent kick, putting my all into it in the hope of crushing every damn rib he had on the right side. He went flying sideways into a rack of bedazzled hoochie-mama underthings. But not before he grabbed a handful of my cut and pulled me down with him.
Then it was on.
In a blink, life was all about who could land the most punches with the most power. While unseen things crashed around us, I landed on top of the bastard who’d dared to enter my territory, a position that gave me the advantage to pummel his fucking face in. Blood flew as I got him good in the snotbox, while some part of me knew my knuckles would have a great case of fighter-bite once I smashed his sneering mouth in. Then my head snapped back thanks to a sneaky uppercut, and we went rolling into something that made flimsy articles of clothing rain down on us, along with boxes with sharp edges.
Ow.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard Ginger and Roxie screaming something about stopping, but it was way too late for that. There was no stopping this train until someone was made to grind to a fucking halt, and that wasn’t going to be me. Not even when he grabbed up a red feather boa and tried to strangle me with it, his teeth bared and bloody. In retaliation I grabbed up one of the boxes that had hit me, found a big-ass dildo falling out of it, and tried shoving it down his goddamn throat.
Choke on that, loser.
The sound of the door’s electronic bell sliced through my rage, indicating the front door just opened.
“Hello there, I have a grocery delivery for— what the freaky-frack ?!”
Fuck.
“Mister, I need you to do me a favor and go outside,” came Ginger’s quivering voice. Quivering, but not with fear. No, if she’d been afraid, she would have gone mute. What I heard was pure, redheaded, pretend-goddess fury. Uh-oh . “If I don’t come out of this shop to tell you everything’s okay in one minute, I need you to call LEO.”
“L-Leo? Lady, I-I don’t know you, I don’t know anyone named Leo—”
“Law enforcement officers—the cops. Just put that delivery box down, go outside and get ready to call for help in one minute if I don’t tell you otherwise. Either way, a big tip is waiting for you at the end of this. Now move .”
Damn, my woman could bark like a drill sergeant when she wanted to.
The sound of the door shutting reached my ears, and that was when I realized my opponent and I had both come to a halt. As if by telepathic agreement, the man called Red Flag and I dragged ourselves to our feet, only to find Ginger, in all her pretend-goddess glory, approaching us through the shocking carnage that used to be her shop, a Louisville Slugger gripped in her hands. Unholy fire danced in her eyes as she looked from the two of us, before she oh, so gently put the fat end of the bat against the center of Red Flag’s chest.
“Get. Out.”
Very slowly he spread his massive mitts out, palms up, probably to show her how harmless he was. Yeah, good luck with that. “Listen—”
With remarkable control and no hesitation, the head of the bat flew up, cuffed him lightly under the chin, but still hard enough to make his teeth click together.
Whoa .
“Get out.” She sucked in a massive breath. “ Nowwww !”
Red Flag got out double-quick, but not before giving me one last look that promised this wasn’t over.
No shit, dumbass.
This obviously was just the beginning.
Next, Ginger turned and pointed the bat at me. Hastily I closed my mouth before she could click my teeth shut the way she did Red Flag’s. “ You . Don’t you fucking move.”
I nodded once, watched her plonk the bat on one shoulder before she turned and grabbed some cash out of her purse. Then she was out the door, and I took the chance to glance around the ruined front room.
Oh, shit.
Roxie, still behind the glass counter—which now somehow had a crack in it—hugged her phone to her chest while staring at me like I was Godzilla’s uglier cousin. We regarded each other for a long moment while all my aches and pains began to let themselves be known.
Generally speaking, fighting had always been a kickass good time. But I was getting too old for this shit.
“Well, then.” Roxie’s voice seemed abnormally loud in the silence. “You’re our landlord?”
I nodded. A feather fell out of my hair. “Yep.”
“So… that means we’re not going to be made to pay for any damages. Right?”
“Right.”
“Good.”
We stared at each other some more.
The electronic bell went off as Ginger swung back through, still carrying her trusty bat. Barely sparing me a glance, she zeroed in on Roxie with a kind smile. “Honey, I’m so sorry about this. Go ahead and head on home, okay? I promise you’ll get full pay for today, because you shouldn’t be penalized for whatever is going on in my crazy life.”
Oh, hell. Last thing I wanted to do was cost Ginger an out-of-pocket expense. I probably should have thought this through better than I did.
“I feel this is all my fault.” Roxie, clearly shaken, gathered up her purse, came around the counter and tiptoed her way through the debris to give Ginger a hug. “I’m the one who brought Red Flag to meet you. I thought you needed a little spice in your life, but… oh, girlfriend. I had no idea that kind of spice would blow the roof off the place.”
“Roof’s still intact. Everything else is fixable. I’ll see you tomorrow, and we can talk about planning for my birthday party.”
“Oh.” Roxie blinked at her in a dazed kind of way. Clearly Ginger’s friend was not built for the Gravedigger way of life. Then again, few people were. “So… you’re going to go ahead and have a party, after all?”
“Absolutely. You only turn twenty-nine once, right? I think I should start off the last year of my twenties with a bang. Drive carefully, now.” Walking her friend to the door, Ginger waved farewell, shut and locked the front door, turned off the neon “OPEN” sign… then turned to face me.
I braced.
Here it comes.
Slowly, with her gaze never leaving mine, she worked her way through the debris until she was only an arm’s length away. Then she raised her bat as if it were a rapier.
“ En garde .”
I stared. “What?”
A devil began to dance in her eyes as she jutted a chin meaningfully toward my hand.
I looked down.
Holy shit. I still had the giant dildo in my hand.
A low moaning sound escaped her, and at first I thought she might be crying. I looked up from the dildo— seriously, why was it so big? —only to find her shoulders shaking with laughter. With nothing left to do, I held up the dildo and crossed it with her bat, striking a fencer’s pose.
“This isn’t going to be a fair fight, Snap. Yours is bigger than mine.”
“I’d bet real money you’ve never said that phrase before.”
“You’d be right, baby girl.”
She grinned and gently bonked her bat against my, er, weapon. “I’d also bet that you’ve never been more stylish than you are right now.”
“What do you mean?”
With waves of laughter rolling out of her once again, she reached out and aimed a mirror—now leaning drunkenly off a rack—my way.
The red feather boa hung in a glorious splash of color around my neck.
I burst out laughing, dissolving all the tension-filled shit that had built up inside throughout the day, and suddenly all that mattered was that we were here now. Against all odds, Ginger and I stood here, together, not at each other’s throats, but in harmony.
Maybe miracles did exist.
“Damn, I make this look good.” Still laughing, I shot her a quick grin. “Red is definitely my color.”
“I have to agree. Not to mention you seem highly attached to Mr. Happy.”
“Mr. Happy?”
“That’s what Roxie and I call all the adult toys shaped like a penis. Mainly because they’re forever hard, they never disappoint, and they always leave a girl with a smile on her face. See? Happy.”
“Huh.” I gave the elephant-sized dildo a wry glance before I dropped it to the floor, then dragged the feather boa from around my neck. “Tell me, Snap. Have you ever tried any of your Mr. Happy inventory?”
“Well,” she drawled, moving to lean the bat against the broken glass counter. “I could claim I feel a dedicated obligation to quality control when it comes to protecting my customers, but let’s face it—with you chasing off all the men who cross my path, my battery-powered Mr. Happy is pretty much my only friend with benefits.”
I looped the feather boa around her and reeled her in. “Consider me your new and improved Mr. Happy, and I’m the only one you’re ever going to need. Although,” I added fairly, “I’m good with a battery-powered Mr. Happy making a cameo appearance every now and again.”
“I think you got hit too hard in the head, pal. What makes you think you’re ever going to be in a position of showing me your Mr. Happy ever again now that you just trashed my damn store?”
“That wasn’t me,” I defended, pleased that she didn’t resist when I pulled her even closer, until only an inch or two separated us. “I came here bearing gifts and I was attacked. I could’ve died. Massive elephant dildos hit me on the head.”
“Aw, poor baby.” Chuckling, she reached up and brushed a butterfly-light caress over the cheek that was throbbing the worst. “What sort of gifts did you come here bearing?”
“A little blast from the past I thought you might like for your collection of weaponry. Once we nail Hades, maybe you can pair it up with his scalp.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This.” I dug into my back pocket and handed her the pearl-handled razor. I heard her breath catch as she took it, and for a moment I wondered if this was the right thing to do. “Piece by piece, I’m taking everything away from him, baby girl. Everything . As I do, I swear to you that I’ll lay each piece at your feet, so you can see how his world is crumbling while ours grows with a strength he’ll never defeat.”
“I’ve had nightmares about this blade. In my dreams it’s huge. But it’s really so small, isn’t it? Like Hades. He’s so small. So fucking beatable.” A slow, vicious smile carved her expression, and for a moment I felt genuine pity for my uncle for being the focus of her pretend-goddess wrath. “Thank you, Tyr. I love it.”
God fucking help me, she was so insanely hot, but never more so when she had murder on her mind. With a growl I bent and pressed my mouth to hers, only to wince. Shit. Forgot about the bruised lip.
“Oh, baby.” Her murmur of concern was so sweet, like healing waters soothing over that thing I liked to call a soul. Gently she reached up and touched a finger to the corner of my mouth. “Are you all right? Seriously, are you hurt?”
“It only hurts when I laugh.”
“Where?”
“Here.” Absently I rubbed my aching jaw, then held my breath when she rolled up on her toes and trailed her lips along the exact path my hand had taken.
Jesus fuck, Ginger kissed me. Without prompting, or bargaining, or straight-up coercion. She just… kissed me.
My dick got so instantly hard it was a wonder it didn’t make a damn cartoony springing noise.
“Do you hurt anywhere else?”
Oh, the possibilities. “My cheek’s kinda messed up.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have a bruise there for sure.” She made the cutest little sound of sympathy before cruising her lips very carefully over the swelling I could now see under my left eye, her hands coming to grip my shoulders for balance. “Anyplace else?”
“A couple places.”
“Where?”
She asked for it. “Got socked in the mouth pretty good.”
“Aw.” Once again she rolled up on her toes. “I’ll be gentle,” she whispered, and for the first time, she kissed me on the lips.
I had no frigging clue why it felt so different, Ginger choosing to kiss me, but it did. It was better than any fantasy, and I’d cooked up so many fantasies about her over the years that I could qualify as a fucking chef. But this, the feel of Ginger’s mouth molding to mine like her life’s goal was to create to most perfect seal, was enough to make my spine melt.
She was enslaving every part of me, and it was only a kiss.
The flutter of her tongue slipping between my lips to caress my tongue wrenched a deep groan of pleasure from me. She pulled back in an instant, while every cell in my body howled in protest.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“Oh, I’m hurting, and you’re definitely the cause of it.”
Awareness flared like fireworks in her pale eyes. Yeah. She got the message loud and clear.
And she was good with it.
Hot damn.
“Okay,” she whispered, and I heard her swallow. “Where else are you hurting, Tyr?”
“You know where.” I sifted my fingers through her hair before tightening my fist with gentle savagery. “Get on your knees, Snap.”
With her gaze never leaving mine, my rebellious, fiery Ginger sank to her knees before me. It was such an unbelievably beautiful sight I was certain I’d remember it until the day I died.
Wordlessly I reached for my buckle and fastenings of my jeans. Wordlessly, because anything I said now might break the spell and she’d remember she’d been programmed to hate me. Or that I just trashed her store. Either way, I wasn’t about to distract her from what she was clearly willing to do.
Thank fuck.
The sound of my zipper lowering seemed loud in the trashed front room. My pulse paused in its faithful beating when she raised up on her knees, and for a fraction of a second I thought she’d changed her mind. That would have been par for the course for our rocky relationship.
But then her hands moved between mine as I parted the opening of my jeans. She reached beneath my briefs and freed my throbbing, stiff cock, only to gasp audibly when she got her first up close and personal look at it.
“What…” Wonderingly she touched a fingertip to the gleaming titanium ball-tip of the horseshoe piercing. My body jolted as if shocked by a live wire. “What… is this? And why? Why did you do this to yourself?”
“I told you I had a piercing, and you’ve already experienced why I did it.” At her baffled glance, I chuckled and dived both hands into her hair. “It hits your G-spot so perfectly it makes you my mindlessly screaming fucktoy. For me, it keeps the most sensitive part of my dick permanently exposed and, y’know… stimulated.”
Her eyes widened. “Stimulated?”
I nodded while I grew even harder, my dick twitching as if to prove my point. “Even the lightest touch of it vibrates through my dick. When I first got it, just the act of walking got me hard. Sitting in tight jeans was a kind of sweet torture. And riding on my hog? Jesus, I’ve never told anyone this before, but the truth is I straight-up came in my jeans after traveling only a couple blocks the first time out. It took months for me to get enough dick control where I wasn’t having fucking orgasms every other minute.”
“That… can’t be normal.”
“Some men are more sensitive than others, if they’re lucky. And I’m very, very lucky.”
“So, how long can you last with, you know… sex?”
“Again, you know the answer to that.” I smiled, pulling her closer. I wanted her mouth for something other than talking, so the time for idle chitchat was coming to a close. “Or have you forgotten how well-fucked you are from last night?”
Her face flushed. “As if I could ever forget last night.”
“I don’t know, Snap. Seems like you’ve blanked out some important points. Clearly I need to remind you just how good my dick control is.” My fingers tightened on her hair. “Let’s start with you licking your lips and putting that sweet mouth of yours around my dick.”
“I think I want to play with this first.” Her fascinated gaze dropped to the piercing before glancing up at me. “But not before you show me your ass.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Loki suggested I take a quick little peek at the southern end of you the next time we got naked so… Turn around, Tyr.”
So that’s what they talked about. “Remind me to kill him later.”
“Please?”
By God, she was sweet. With Ginger down on her knees before me, her pale eyes locked onto mine like I was the only thing she wanted to look at, I could deny her nothing.
“One quick look, and then you need to get busy.”
Her smile was brilliant before I slowly turned, letting my clothes fall past my knees so she could see the whole piece of art Loki had designed to my specifications.
“Oh… Tyr.” She said my name in a way she’d never said it before. Soft. Gentle. Like it meant something precious to her. My dick throbbed all the more, and I moaned softly when her hands drifted over my left ass cheek and down the outside of my leg.
“I somehow didn’t expect it to be so detailed. So beautiful. I’m not that beautiful.”
She had to be kidding. “It doesn’t begin to do you justice.”
“I’m glad Pokey drew me with my naked back turned and my face looking over my shoulder. Having him draw my naked girlie parts would have been weird.”
“He offered, but I didn’t want him to even think about you like that. That’s for me, and no one else. Not even my very-married brother. Now.” Breathing hard in anticipation, I turned back to her and cupped her chin in my hand, my dick now so hard it was curving up toward the ceiling. “Didn’t you say you wanted to play with my piercing? I’ll let you do it for a minute or two.”
“Just a minute or two? So stingy.” She smiled as she leaned toward my cock. As I watched, she curled her hand at the base of it and circled her tongue around the purpling head, before flicking the piercing and playing with it over and over.
Jesus-motherfucking-Christ-on-a-crutch.
Time stopped. That’s how powerful her mouth was. She also wrenched a guttural shout of bone-melting pleasure from me. That was new. In fact, that was something I just didn’t fucking do. Other than a few low grunts I never made a sound of shattered helplessness during sex, because a Gravedigger was never fucking helpless, not even when he was coming his brains out.
But there I was, groaning out loud and helpless.
In that moment, with Ginger’s tongue playing with my piercing, I was instantly trembling on the edge of shooting my load in her face and blissfully happy to do it.
But that wouldn’t do at all.
“Playtime’s over.” Holy shit, I was panting like a damn dog. Grimly I reached for that control I so arrogantly assured her I had, locked my trembling leg muscles in place, and pushed her head forward. “Suck my cock in deep, woman. Not just the damn tip. All of it.”
I gave her just enough time to gasp before yanking her toward me, while simultaneously thrusting my dick into the wet chamber of her mouth.
Ahh. Heaven.
“I know you’re not one of the easy-lay club girls.” I kept one hand clenched hard in her hair so she didn’t escape, while my other hand clamped on her jaw to ensure she stayed as open as possible. “You got yourself a good gag reflex, but we’re going to train you out of that, yeah? I know this is new, but you can do this.” Of course it was new to her. Like the obsessive stalker I knew I’d become, I had made sure Ginger was almost untouched except in the most basic way, because I wanted to train her to my own personal specifications. Whether she knew it or not, that was my job, my privilege, my ultimate goal in life. She would learn to love pleasuring me exactly the way I liked it, just as I was dedicated to learning every last thing that gave her pleasure, and giving it to her in a way that no other man ever could.
And the first thing I needed her to learn was how to crave taking my dick all the way down her throat, to the point where she felt lost and alone without having me in her mouth to suck on.
“You need to get yourself off whenever you’ve got my dick in your mouth, baby girl.” I thrust carefully, trying to go deeper every time. “It’s only fair, right? I want you moaning as you finger-fuck yourself whenever I have you on your knees. So get your skirt up and finger-bang your clit hard and fast right the fuck now, Ginger. Moan if you understand me.”
She made a low noise, almost stifled by my movements, but when I saw her hand dive under her skirt I smiled my encouragement at her. My Ginger was a genuine good girl, so this rule had to be ingrained in her—if I got sucked off, she had to get off, no exceptions. If I did my job right, in six months’ time, just the prospect of getting on her knees in front of me should leave her wet and trembling on the needy verge of climax.
God, how I loved that thought.
I pushed deeper, deeper, holding her head as still as I could. I groaned when my piercing brushed the back of her throat, before I clamped the hand at her jaw even harder. “No teeth, Ginger,” I corrected, still thrusting into her face with the absolute dedication of getting her used to the feel of me hitting the back of her throat. Then there seemed to be a faint pop, and I slid all the way down. Yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes. “That’s it, baby. Your man doesn’t like teeth on his dick, just a sweet, slick glide…” she rolled her lips over the edge of her teeth, and suddenly everything was perfect. “Oh, fuck, that’s my good girl.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her movements beneath her skirt get more urgent, jerky. Beautiful.
“Let me fuck your face good and proper like I’ve dreamed of for so long,” I panted, plunging into her face like a wild man, matching her move for frantic move. “Suck on me hard, like making a hickey over my whole cock, bring all the blood to the surface, just… like… that. God, Ginger, you’re making me so fucking happy right now. Yeah, yeah, just like that, keep sucking me off so hard… Oh, God.” The exquisite throbbing became my world, the hardening of my abdominal muscles almost painful, and the tightening of my balls told me I was about to release the biggest load I’d ever had.
And suddenly I didn’t want to be down her throat.
With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pulled her head away from my body, blindly reached for an overturned chair that had once been by her little high-heeled shoe display, and righted it. Half a second later I yanked her skirt up and ripped her panties off. Then I picked her up and made her straddle me as I sat in that chair, our faces no more than an inch or two apart.
“In time, I’ll teach you how to swallow everything I give you, something you’ll learn to love,” I promised her, thrilled at how breathless she was. “But for now whenever I come, it’s going to be inside your sweet pussy so I can make damn sure I’m putting my baby in you.”
“You’re crazy.” The phrase seemed automatic, a typical Ginger-response that appeared without any real thought or malice. “But since I’m not screaming about protection, I must be crazy too.”
“I had a prospect guarding you all day.” I didn’t know why I told her that, but since it was out I went for full disclosure. “He had standing orders to stop you from going into any drugstore so you wouldn’t go for a morning-after pill. But you never went near one. Why?”
“Guess I forgot.”
“Bullshit,” I chided, my voice no more than a growl. “You know damn well why you didn’t go. I need you to say it out loud so that you know you welcome the reality around you.”
“You really want to do this now?”
“Right now, Ginger. Say it.”
She made a sound of frustration. “I didn’t go to the drugstore because I think I’m okay with… you know.” She tried lifting up so that she could position my cock at her threshold, and I reached between us to slide the tip along her wet channel before inserting the tip into her depths.
“Say it, Gingersnap.”
“I’m okay with getting knocked up.”
She was almost there. “You’re okay with getting knocked up with my baby . Say it.”
“I’m okay with… oh .” Slowly I let her slide down, both of us groaning at the sweet absorption of my stiff shaft into her hot, wet pussy. “Oh, Tyr . You’re right, I can, oh … I feel that knob hitting me just… oh … Hitting me just right. Ohhh .” With every roll of my hips, her body jerked and her breath gasped, but she still wasn’t completely where I needed her to be.
“Tell me you want to get knocked up with my baby, and my baby alone, woman.” Mindless ecstasy bit huge chunks out of my conscious mind, and no matter how hard I tried to hold it off, I sank deeper into the blissed-out madness drugging my system. I was losing it, fast. “Tell me to fuck my baby into you. Say it now and mean it, goddamn it.”
“Fuck your baby into me, Tyr. I want you more than anything, so fuck me hard and give me your baby… oh, yes .” The words seemed to push her over some internal ledge. Her head flung back with the force of her cries, her lithe body frantically riding my dick while the walls of her pussy convulsed around my hardened flesh. That was all that was needed to shatter what little control I had left.
Driven by the mindless need to fill her womb, I came so damn hard I almost passed out with it. Every muscle I possessed strained to fill her, and while my cries of completion joined hers, all I could do was try to bury myself so deeply inside her that nothing could ever pull us apart.
Except a broken chair.
With her breathless moans still echoing in my ears, I collapsed back against the chair’s backrest. A sharp snap, like a board being snapped in two, cracked around the room, and the next moment we were falling. Instinctively I wrapped her up against my chest and rolled so that I hit the floor with her on top of me. Blankly I stared up at her, before swiveling my head around to look at the chair, once again on its side but now with only three legs. It looked oddly appropriate with the ruin of the shop as a backdrop.
“I’ll pay for it,” I promised immediately.
“Damn straight you will,” she shot back, then charmed the hell out of me by bursting into gales of tired—but thoroughly satisfied—laughter.