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didn't do a damn thing. Lisa's gonna spill the beans on us. We'll be fucked. |
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We oughta be shutting up Lisa, not having a goddamn party. |
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And Buddy's upstairs with the pizza gal as if he doesn't have a worry in the world. |
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And it's storming black shit outside and the crazy bitch tried to kill Buddy, and we're all acting like nothing's wrong. The whole damn world's gone nuts. |
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'How's the chicken doing?' Sheila asked. She crouched beside Lou and looked into the oven. 'A while longer, huh? I like it good and crispy.' |
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You should've seen Chidi. He was good and crispy. |
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Sheila leaned against him. She caressed his back. He felt her breast pressing his upper arm. Breath tickling his ear, she whispered, 'Do you think we can get out of here?' |
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'Not while it's raining,' Lou whispered. 'Or whatever it's doing out there.' |
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She kissed his ear. Lou knew she was doing this so Doug and Cyndi would think they were making out, whispering endearments or something. 'I don't like this. We oughta get away. I just know Buddy's raping that woman.' |
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'Probably.' The feel of Sheila and images of Buddy putting it to the pizza gal started to make Lou horny. He slipped a hand under the back of Sheila's sweatshirt. Normally, she wouldn't have allowed that with people around. But she didn't protest. Her skin was warm and smooth. 'It's not like we're accomplices or |
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