“Give him a hug?  What for?” she cried.  “He’s a bully, and a strippist!”

“Strippist?”

“Yeah.” She hiccupped. “Like a racist except he’s prejudiced against strippers.”

“Well, sweets, from what you told me he did to you in that little bed of yours, I’d say he was a stripvert.”

“Stripvert?”

“A perv for strippers,” Charlie wagged his dark brows.  “And not in a bad way.”

“That doesn’t make sense.  I still don’t know why you want to hug him.”

Charlie hugged her close.  “Personally, I’d love to get my hands on that hunk of burning love.  But since this isn’t about me but you, I’d hug him because he broke through that ice palace you’ve built.”

Throwing popcorn at him, she shook her head and rested back against the headboard. “I don’t have an ice palace.”

“Oh, you are so in denial, Queen Elsa.  Shall we sing 'Let It Go’ or,” Charlie burst into a fit of giggles, “'Pop Goes the Cherry’?”

She smacked him good-naturedly, but he’d managed to make her smile, then he pulled “Let It Go” up on his iPhone and at the top of their lungs, they sang the song until one of their neighbors pounded on the back door for them to shut up before he called the cops.  Then they pulled the sheet over their heads and whisper sang it.

That was the last thing Izzy remembered until she woke to the delicious aroma of coffee.  Smiling, Izzy’s first thought was of the previous morning, waking up with Flynn’s hard, erect body beside her.  Moaning, she stretched and realized she was still under the sheet.

“Wake up, Elsa,” Charlie called and yanked off the sheet.  He stood smiling down at her, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.  He swept the cup beneath her nose and said, “If you want it, you need to stop pouting.”

To which she pouted.

“Oh, hell, I’d be pouting over that lost penis, too. Here.” He handed her the mug.

The memory of Flynn thrusting deeply into her made her catch her breath.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips.  “Wow, he must have been off the hook amazing.”

Izzy took a deep breath and slowly let it out.  “He was,” she said softly. To steady her trembling body, she cupped the mug with both hands. Taking a sip, Izzy closed her eyes and savored the rich brew.  She was an addict.  There was only one thing she wanted more and that she couldn’t have.

“You’re the best friend ever,” she said quietly, smiling up at him.

“I know,” Charlie said as he plopped down beside her.  Taking the mug from her, he set it on the nightstand, then took her hands into his and looked pointedly at her.  “Look, I’m going to say something that’s none of my business, but well, do you even care? Because let’s be honest here, since when have I minded my own business?”  He laughed, but quickly settled back into a serious mien. “I know men and how they think. Doesn’t matter if we’re gay or straight, when it comes to what we want but can’t have, we all act the same. And I’m here to tell you, sweets, that Special Agent of yours has it bad for you.  It was written all over every exquisite inch of him last night. He sooo didn’t want to leave you.  My straight-dar is screaming he’s been hurt before. Bad.  Maybe irrevocably.  Such a waste if that’s the case. He needs someone who is willing to be patient with him.  Show him how to love.”  Charlie shook his head.  “He’s got an ego the size of California, too, and I think, my pet, he is having a huge problem dealing with the fact that his friends have seen your glorious breasticles.”

“I can’t change the past.”  Izzy straightened up.  “And I don’t want to.  If he can’t handle the heat, then he can do what he’s doing, get out and stay out of the kitchen.”

Charlie hugged her tightly.  “That’s what I love most about you, sweets.  Take me as I am or don’t take me at all.  You took me as I am, and I love you for it.”

“I love who you are.”

He pushed back and grinned, showing straight white teeth.  His dark eyes beamed with affection. Charlie reminded Izzy of a younger, slighter version of Jonathan Rhys Meyer.  His heavy hooded eyes, full lips, and expressive features could never mask what he was thinking or feeling.  He had a lousy poker face.  But he laughed often. He let the crap that the judgmental world they lived in threw at him, run off his back.  She wished she could be as carefree and cavalier about her roots as he was about his sexuality.

He hugged her, then swatted her on the bottom as he rolled from the bed.  “Get a shower and brush your teeth, you have hangover breath.”

“Yes, dear.” She laughed, forgetting for a few minutes that she was miserable.  And she was miserable.  Flynn had peeled away so many layers of her, she scarcely recognized who she was at her core.  She wasn’t the same girl who woke up two mornings ago in the bedroom across the hall.

She had fundamentally changed and she wasn’t sure she liked it.  Ignorance was bliss. At least, ignorance of the carnal knowledge that was Special Agent Flynn Ryker.  What he’d awoken in her would forever be on the prowl for more. No one else would give her what he had.  Confidence, orgasms, laughter, and for the first time in her life, something to focus on that was just for her. Something other than her tawdry past or the lows that searching for the sister had brought her to.

Alex.  She felt so helpless.  Getting the info out of Andre was no longer an option. She had no sex video.  Wasn’t going to get one either. Wasn’t going to be put up to another one. She’d stick with Flynn’s story that she did have a video, but her phone was stolen at the gym.

 Now how was she going to get the answers she needed? Maybe there was information in Boris’s office at the club?  It was Monday and even though the club was closed, from what she’d heard, Sherry, the office manager, was usually there. At the very least Izzy needed her tips.  She was broke, with barely enough left on her transit pass to take the bus to BART and BART to the city.  So while she was getting her tips from her locker, where Andre would have put them, maybe she could make a little detour to Boris’s office and see what she could see.

Izzy showered quickly and as she walked into the kitchen, Charlie was cooking up a breakfast fit for a king and queen.  “Your hunk of burning love sure knows how to shop and where. Love Whole Foods!”

Her stomach growled, and soon she was consuming a delicious brie omelet, toasted croissant, and fresh berries topped with cream.  “A girl could get used to this.”

Charlie sighed and said, “A girl can wish.”

Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, Izzy grabbed her purse and said, “Will you be here when I get back?”

“Depends; where are you going and how long will you be?”

“I’m going to the club to get my tips and tell that crazy Cossack you met yesterday that you didn’t appreciate his rudeness!”

“Oh, hell no you aren’t.  I don’t want you to get into trouble on my account.”

“Charlie, I’m already in trouble.  I’ll probably be in more if I bump into the owner, Boris. He’s scary.”  Izzy shivered when she realized she was going to have to face him sooner or later.  Might as well make it sooner, right?  “Not sure how long I’ll be gone, but don’t wait for me if you have to go.”

“I’ve got some laundry to do, I can do it here instead of at Steven’s.”

Izzy smiled, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.  “Okay, dear, I should be home in time for lunch.  Fix us something yummy.”

“You got it, sweets.”

Smiling, Izzy strode out the door and headed for the bus that would take her to BART, which would then take her to the city.  As she waited at the bus stop, her nerves started to get the better of her.  What if Andre or Boris was there? Boris, not likely. Andre, maybe. He’d want the video.  Instinctively, she knew he was not going to care that her phone was stolen.  He’d push for another video with another man.