“Christy takes good care of me, don’t worry.”
“I do,” she said cheerfully. “It’s all I do, morning, noon, and night.”
Wren laughed and shook her head in disbelief. Then she grinned at me.
“Told you she isn’t a goody-goody.”
“I know. You were right all along,” I said in a practiced monotone. “I should’ve listened. I was an idiot.”
“Okay. As long as you admit it.” She picked up her towel and sighed. “I hate to leave, but…”
“It’s okay,” Christy said. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning.” She blew a kiss and closed the door behind her.
Christy turned toward me and wormed her way into my arms with a squeak of contentment. “Thank you.”
“You’re very, very welcome.”
“Of course, now I’m—”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Then let’s get you something to eat. And afterward, I have a sleeping draft for you.”
“White and creamy? My favorite kind.”
We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves on the slopes the next day. We stayed till the lifts closed and then hiked back to the cabin in a good mood. We were all tired from skiing all day, but we didn’t let that stop us. After dinner and a soak in the hot tub—with less alcohol than the night before but just as much innuendo—we showered and dressed for the New Year’s Eve party.
None of us had brought dressy clothes, but the village was so laid-back that we didn’t think we’d stand out. Sure enough, the party at the resort lodge was full of people in jeans and sweaters, although a few wore suits and party dresses. Trip led the way to the bar, where he gave them his credit card and opened a tab.
“Drinks are on me,” he told us over the music.
Wren looked stunned, but she recovered quickly and gave him a kiss.
“Hey, why have money if I can’t spend it on my friends?”
So we drank and partied and rang in the new year in style. We watched Dick Clark on a big projection TV, sang Auld Lang Syne, and returned to the cabin in the wee hours of the morning. We were all drunk and horny, so we went straight to our rooms.
Christy wasn’t in the mood for sleep and neither was I, especially after dancing and flirting all evening. I was so drunk that I probably would’ve agreed to just about anything, but she wasn’t as far gone as I was—her metabolism again.
She was in the mood for her favorite pastime anyway. She sucked me off once and then spent a long time enjoying herself and getting me worked up for a massive explosion the second time. I returned the favor by licking, sucking, and biting her nipples till she couldn’t stand it anymore. Then I moved between her legs and did the same to her pussy.
We finally went to sleep around five in the morning, although she woke me before ten. I thought it was an indecent hour, especially for a Sunday after a big party, never mind that we were on vacation too.
“I want to ask a favor,” she said. “But I want you to promise me something first.”
“Can I go back to sleep after?” I mumbled.
“Maybe. This is serious. You have to promise.”
I heard something in her voice, so I made an effort to wake up. She was sitting on her knees beside me, fidgeting nervously. I pushed myself up in bed and leaned against the headboard, which was cold enough to make me wince. On top of that, my head felt full of cotton and my mouth was painfully dry. At least my stomach wasn’t doing the Electric Slide. That was something.
“Okay,” I said at last. “What’re you talking about?”
“Promise you won’t get upset. At least try not to.”
“I promise.”
“Thank you.” She drew a breath and squared her shoulders. “Okay, here goes. I want to go to Mass today.”
I blinked and rubbed sleep from my eyes and waited. Then I realized she wasn’t going to say anything else. “Is that it?”
“What do you mean, ‘is that it?’ That’s a big it!”
“You want to go to Mass. Is that all?”
“There’s a beautiful little church right down the road,” she said in a rush.
“Queen of the Snows. It’s always so peaceful there. And… I want to go to Mass. I won’t go to confession or anything, but I want to take Communion.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “So… why would I get upset at that?”
“Remember last time…?”
“Of course I remember. I was a jerk and made a bunch of assumptions.”
“You did, but… maybe you had good reason. I ran away ’cause I was scared and felt guilty.”
“You aren’t scared now, are you? Or guilty? And you aren’t running away?”
“I just want to go to Mass. I’ve been so happy with you lately that… I guess I want to share it. I’m not going to tell the priest or anything,” she added quickly, “but… I always feel so close to God when I’m in church. I know you’re not very religious, and I really try not to dwell on it when I’m with you, but God’s always been an important part of my life. Now you’re an important part too, and I guess I want Him to know how happy I am.” She folded her hands and stared down at them. “I should probably shut up now.
I’m chattering.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Can I go? Please? I won’t turn into Sister Prune or anything, I swear.”
I chuckled and reached out to her. She came willingly and lay beside me.
Her body was soft and warm, but I could feel her tension.
“Relax,” I said. “Of course you can go to Mass. You don’t need to ask.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Thank you. I was worried you’d say no.”
“Why would I do that? Wait a minute— What if I had said no?”
“I… wouldn’t’ve gone.”
I snorted. “That’s silly.”
“I know you think so, but… I meant what I said to Wren the other day, you are my master. Not like a slave or anything, but I’ll do what you say.”
I tried to decide how to put my thoughts into words. “I want you to be your own person,” I said eventually. “I want you to do what makes you happy. You don’t need my permission. And if going to Mass makes you happy, go to Mass. I guess I only have a problem if you choose church over me.”
“Never. But… I don’t know how to explain it. I think God brought you into my life for a reason. He nourishes my soul, but He knows I need someone to nourish my mind and body too.”
“And that’s where I come in?”
“Of course. He knows what He’s doing.”
“You really believe that, don’t you? That God is directing your life?”
“No, of course not. He gave us free will, so we make our own decisions.
But on some level, I think He is guiding me.”
“Did He guide you into bed with me?”
“Don’t be crass. But since you asked, Mr. Doubting Thomas, I believe He did. He knew I was missing something in my life.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“Thank you.” She kissed my chest and breathed a deep sigh.
We lay together in companionable silence and listened to the sounds of the house as it warmed in the morning sun.
“How’s your head?” she said after a minute.
“The big one or the little one?”
“Both.”
“The big one is hungover. The little one is hoping for some attention.”
“Isn’t he always?”
“Hungover? No, only when I drink too much.”
She laughed and swatted playfully. “No, I mean the little head. Isn’t he always hoping for attention?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On how you feel about a blowjob before Mass.”
“I think God’s probably okay with it,” she said, only half facetious. She reached under the sheet and found my penis. “Besides, my body will always need nourishment.”
I started to say something stupid like “It’s God’s will,” but then thought better of it. Christy was serious about her faith, and I shouldn’t mock her for it. I didn’t think about God very often, but if He made her happy, that was