Yeah, it’s one of those smiles. Straight to the cunt. Shit, I need some cock soon or somebody’s getting jumped.

Once he’s in the bathroom and the shower is running, I turn to Karissa and take both her hands in mine.

“Omigod, omigod, omigod! Your b.f. is a hottie. Damn, girl, you done good!”

“Told you,” she says. “Now you know why I keep him a secret. Not that it matters anymore. My teeth are firmly implanted in him.”

“You are a lucky girl.”

“You going to be a lucky girl too. In no time.”

“I hope so.”

Once Jaxon is done showering, we get in his truck, which is slightly larger than Rhode Island, and head to Ocean Drive.

I feel like a third wheel with them. And yet not. He seems very straight. And why not? Karissa is a girl . . . even though she’s told me her cock is two inches longer than his. But she’s a girl. I remind myself to stop over-thinking everything and just try to have a good time on my first night in my new life in Florida.

Like she heard me, my mom calls. I wonder if she knows I’m gone yet. Did she come by my apartment in Newton?

I stare at the word “Mom” on my screen and watch as it goes to voicemail. Can’t deal with her shit now. No, not right now. I’m having fun . . . and I’m a little drunk.

I laugh.

Karissa looks back at me from the front seat. “You okay?”

“Better than ever,” I say. “Hey, isn’t that the hotel from Scarface? You know, the chainsaw scene.”

“Don’t know. We don’t come over here that often. Too expensive. But we celebrating and I got a two-hundred dollar tip last week so tonight’s on me.”

“Oh no it isn’t!”

“Oh yes it is.”

Jaxon drops us off in front of a restaurant with a low awning, then drives off to park his truck.

“Table for three,” says Karissa to the chestnut-haired girl with the thick lips in the tight shorts with the round ass who greets us.

I don’t know if it’s the vibe, the heat, or the gender-bender influence all around, but I seriously want to climb up that tight little ass in black tights as it sways us to our table. She even bends over as she puts the menus down, exposing the top of her luscious crack.

Oh yeah!

She shoots me a smile as she walks away. Back home, girls like her roll their eyes at me, or laugh at me.

“The vibe is different down here,” I say.

“You noticed,” says Karissa.

A waiter named Javier comes by in an all-black outfit. He has dark eyebrows, dark eyes, and slicked back black hair.

“Hello, ladies,” he says in an accent that would put Antonio Banderas to shame, muscles bulging out all over the place. God, even his wrists are thick.

“Good evening,” says Karissa.

Javier shoots her a knowing smile loaded with suggestion. She flips her thick lustrous black hair and adjusts her dress. Her legs are stunning. I catch myself staring at them. Then, my gaze travels to Javier’s crotch where I swear I make out a short but thick one.

“And what would you like?” says Javier.

A short but thick one is on my lips, but then I realize that Karissa ordered a drink and I didn’t even hear her, what with the legs and crotches all around. Whew, is it hot in here?

“She’ll have the same,” says Karissa.

I just nod. Javier nods, shooting me a smile loaded with pulsating manliness, and disappears. I picture impaling myself on him when he returns.

“What did I just agree to having?” I say.

“A glass of wine. You need to take it easy . . . I think those mojitos went straight to your head.”

“I’m not sure that’s exactly where they went.”

Karissa leans forward and whispers, “So tell me, have you ever been with a girl with a cock?”

My head spins. Not that I don’t know the answer, which is a definite no, but I’m such a horndog at the moment that the very thought is lighting up brush fires inside me.

“Um . . . no.”

“How about a GG?”

“A what?”

“A genetic girl. Have you ever tasted pussy?”

I blush. “Once,” I lie.

“Ooooh. What did you think?”

“I loved it.” That was convincing, wasn’t it?

“Thought so. I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Me too!”

We both clasp hands and squeal like little girls. Then Jaxon shows up. Jaxon of the thick tattooed chest and bulging shoulder muscles. I love the way he casually puts his left arm around Karissa and she leans into him after a passionate peck on the lips.

Javier arrives with our wines. “Oh, hello, sir,” he says. “May I get you a drink?”

“Bud,” says Jaxon. Javier nods and walks away.

“Forgive him,” says Karissa. “He likes what he likes.”

“I’m a Tennessee boy,” says Jaxon. “I like my NASCAR and my Budweiser.”

Oddly, the image doesn’t work . . . especially with Karissa. But who gives a fuck? Apparently anything goes down here.

Javier returns, plunking down Jaxon’s Budweiser. He takes our order.

We laugh, talk, and laugh some more. The dinner arrives.

The steak is superb. I can’t believe how good, really. So is the mashed potato and asparagus.

For some reason, the wine seems to have the effect of doubling the intensity of the earlier mojitos. The room spins a little.

Uh-oh.

Then I swallow a piece of meat without chewing it enough.

I gasp.

God, it’s in my throat!

I can’t breathe! Can’t . . . fucking . . . breathe.

At first, Jaxon and Karissa look at me quizzically, which swiftly becomes horror.

“Oh my God!” says Karissa as she realizes what’s happening.

I leap up, my left hand on my throat, my right punching my own stomach.

Jaxon begins to move toward me, but he stops. At the same time, I feel hands around my waist. Powerful arms embrace me while locking themselves together in fists at my abdomen. Then they press hard and upward into me with a sharp thrust.

The piece of meat goes flying out of my throat. Karissa moves to her left, allowing it to miss her as it hits the wall with a thunk.

Sweet, sweet oxygen fills my lungs. Oh, so good. I breathe heavy and hard, trying to get as much of it inside me as I can.

I watch the relief spread across Jaxon and Karissa’s faces as they look at me. I sense the air spreading through my body as my hands leave my neck and find thick man arms around my waist.

“Are you okay?” says a deep voice I swear I’ve heard before.

“I’m fine,” I say as I turn to see who it was that saved my life.

I nearly choke again.

It’s him!

Oh my God, it’s him!

Mr. Ray-Ban. From the airplane.

I would know those eyes anywhere. The only ones that made me come at thirty-five thousand feet. And those lips . . . not thin, but not thick. Just perfectly masculine. A pointy jaw with just enough flat jutty-ness to sweep up to high cheekbones, the area in between nicely stubbled with little bits of dark oh-so-sexy hair.

“Are you okay?” he repeats.

“I’m . . . um . . . fine.”

“Good. Be careful, okay?”

“Um . . . right.”

Does he remember me? Shit fuck shit, I don’t think he remembers me! There is no recognition in his face. He pats my shoulders and turns away from me.

“Thank you!” says Karissa.

“Yes, thank you,” says Jaxon.

I try to say thank you, but I’m too stunned that it’s him. What is he doing here?

He smiles at me and walks away. His hair is neat but messy, the dark wisps perfectly not in place. He’s in a shiny black shirt tonight, sleeves rolled up, untucked. The Ray-Bans hang from his shirt pocket. His shoulder muscles flex nicely as he saunters away. Dark jeans, dark shoes. My girl-sense tells me there's a butt under there full of man-muscle.

He walks with a sense of control that is a level up from Jaxon and Javier. They’re hot, but this man is naturally the leader. Every woman in the restaurant watches him out of one eye.

I stare as he sits at a table with a stunning blonde woman far from us on the other side of the dining area. I swear I know her. Where have I seen her before? Well, whoever she is, she’s a fucking whore tramp bitch slut.