LifeoftheParty
Page 17
“Well, I was kind of in a hurry. I wasted a lot of time dragging that monster of a bed across the room.”
He pulled back, grinning lasciviously. “It’s getting me hot just thinking about it.”
“Well, I sure as hell worked up a sweat. Remind me to return the favor.” She flashed the handcuffs from her pocket. “I’m definitely keeping these for a later date. It’ll be your turn next time.”
“I can hardly wait.” He turned her around, pressing her back atop the clerk’s table. “I can hardly wait,” he breathed, sliding up her skirt.
“You wouldn’t dare…not in a courtroom!”
“Gina, my love, do you know the literal translation of habeus corpus?”
“’You shall have the body?’”
“And you shall,” he grinned, his hand on his zipper and yanking down. “Mine. Over and over again.”
“Jus necessitatis,” Gina squeaked. “I’ll be right here.”
Epilogue
CARMELLI RESIDENCE—RIVERBORO
Six weeks later
“Roark, is that you?”
He tossed his keys to the kitchen table. “No, it’s the vet from the Philadelphia Zoo. Heard you have a hippo ready to drop.”
Pam turned from the sink, giving him the finger.
“Now that’s the kind of behavior that got you in trouble in the first place.” He ran his hand down her massive belly, planting a kiss on top. “How’s my little guys today?”
“They’re having a dorm party inside. I could’ve sworn I smelled bongwater. Hey.” She poked him. “Did you bring me a croissant?”
He dropped a bag to the counter. “Chocolate. Nice and sloppy. Just like you used to be.” Then he kissed her, sliding his hand down her behind.
She pulled back. “Don’t touch me! Jesus, my hormones are going haywire these days. All I’m thinking about is sex.”
“No shit. What else do you think about when you can’t have it?” He sidled up next to her, filling a glass from the tap. “Doug called me today. He took that job with the Capitol Police.”
She shook a colander full of cranberries. “So I guess they’re staying in D.C. then.”
“Well, yeah. Gina’s officially resigning at the first of the year, before Congress’ next session. Doug says she’s going back to lobbying, this time for children’s health care.”
“So I guess this means they’ll be setting the date soon?” She popped two berries into her mouth, crunching.
“Doug said sometime in February. They want to do it up here at the courthouse. Hey.” He pulled her hand back, just before she plucked another cranberry. “How can you eat those things raw? They’re sour as hell.”
“I don’t know. I hate cranberries. I guess there is something to this craving thing. Anyway, I’m glad they’re getting married in February. I’ll have these little sycophants out of me by then.”
“And me back in you,” he said, taking a sip of water. “Did the doctor call?”
“Finally. She said I’m to come in at eleven on Monday. And nothing to eat or drink from ten o’clock the night before.”
“Four more days. It’s really happening then.” He slid his hand to her belly. “Are you nervous?”
Pam leaned her head against his shoulder. “I was, but now I just can’t wait to get it over with. And I’ve made a decision. While they’re in there rooting around, I want them to tie my tubes.”
“Babe, I told you I’d get it done, you don’t have to.”
“You misunderstand me, sweetie. I want to make sure this never happens again. With your super sperm? Every time we screw I’ll be afraid I’ll end up like that woman in California, dropping a litter.” She sighed. “Roark, I swear to God, I love you and I already love these kids, but I never, ever want to get pregnant again.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You won’t have to. Not when I super-sized you.”
“Oh Roark…” She nuzzled against him, taking in his warmth. All of a sudden she flinched. “Roark?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Please tell me you just spilled your water.”
The End
About Trudy Doyle
Trudy Doyle has worked as a newspaper reporter, advertising copywriter, mortgage loan officer, casino slot cashier, proofreader and bookseller, and is currently an Assistant Professor of English, all while writing some of the most cogent and incisive novels known to modern literature. Besides continually exceeding the bar, she believes 70% cacao chocolate should qualify for a tax deduction, James Carville and Rush Limbaugh ought to settle it once and for all in a naked Jell-O pit fight, and Maureen Dowd is the new Mark Twain. Trudy lives, writes and waxes political deep in the heart of Southern New Jersey.
Trudy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Trudy Doyle
Crimes & Misdemeanors 1: Making a Scene
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Life of the Party
ISBN 9781419941122
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Life of the Party Copyright © 2013 Trudy Doyle
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover design by Mina Carter
Cover photography by Sebastian Duda/Shutterstock.com moodboard/123rf.com and Konradbak/dreamstime.com
Electronic book publication July 2013
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