“Spit it out.” It wasn’t said in a mean way. Just his usual, blunt Doc way.
“Touch you?” she squeaked.
“You can touch me as often as you like. But if we’re talking about my cock here, and I damn sure hope we are, then I’m going to make you wait for that.”
She pouted.
“Don’t pout now, girl. It’s cute as hell but it’s not going to be used to manipulate me.”
Well, damn.
“Now, it’s time for sleep,” he told her. “You wake up again, then you make sure to wake me. Oh, and you’re getting your butt spanked for this in the morning.”
She yawned sleepily, not even concerned about her impending spanking.
Then he started to massage her scalp. Oh. That was nice. She yawned, finding herself relaxing.
He gently rolled her onto her front and rubbed her shoulders. Even better. He found all of her knots, massaging until she was a pile of goo. And then he rolled her back, tucking her into his chest.
Almost immediately, she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
“Do you think she knows it’s her turn?” She heard Archer ask.
“That’s her thinking face. She’s probably plotting the destruction of one of her characters.”
“Hmm, as long as she’s not plotting against us,” Archer replied.
“Entirely possible, bro. You’re kind of annoying.”
“Me? What about you? You’re the one who made her get up this morning and exercise. Then you set about organizing her wardrobe. Women don’t like it when you touch their underwear,” Archer advised.
“Oh, she likes it when I touch her underwear just fine,” Issy said slyly.
That brought her right into the here and now. “Issy!” she scolded, feeling her cheeks grow red. She thought back to the spectacular orgasm he’d given her when she couldn’t sleep last night. She shifted around on her seat, pressing her thighs together.
She stared at the two of them. They were in the midst of another poker game. They were both sinfully gorgeous. It was kind of unfair how beautiful they were. She felt inadequate. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling it tangle. Did she even brush it today?
“Okay, I’d really like to know what you’re thinking now?” Doc drawled, placing his cards face down on the table.
Her mind raced as a possibility just occurred to her in her story. “I just got an idea. I have to go write it down. Is there a notepad somewhere?”
“Ahh, I believe I put about three in the Caley-basket today,” Archer told her as he stood and strode towards a basket near the front door. Where had that come from? And why was it there? And how long had it been there?
“You didn’t notice it, did you?” Doc sighed.
“Umm, no. How long has it been there? What’s it for?”
“You owe me ten dollars, brother,” Archer crowed as he picked the basket up and hauled it over to where Caley and Doc still sat at the dining table.
“I thought she would have noticed it when she went outside.”
“That was your mistake,” Archer told him. “She rarely goes outside. And she doesn’t tend to notice things unless she trips over them.”
“Guys,” she said with exasperation. “She is sitting right here.”
Archer, at least, had the grace to look slightly sheepish. Doc just kept frowning. “Knew I should have put it in the middle of the room.”