Page 95 of Sweeter Than Fiction

When I don’t respond right away, she goes on, “Babe, you do a ton of really wonderful things for me. But they are primarily for me. I wanted to do something for you for once.”

I smile. “Did you just call me babe?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying it on. What do you think?”

I lean forward to kiss her. “I love it. But I also need you to know that when I do those things for you, I’m not doing them just to get something in return. I love taking care of you and making you smile.”

“I know. But sometimes, I want to return the favor.”

“Alright,” I reply. “Have you ever been paintballing before?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll try to take it easy on you then,” I tease.

“Oh, I figured you and I could be on the same team. We could gang up on the other guys.”

Just when I’m about to ask who we will be playing against, someone slapping my driver’s window scares the shit out of me. When I look over to see who it is, I see it’s Jill.

“Come on, pussy. Get out of the truck! Let’s do this!”

I turn to Abby. “I’m just warning you that Jill plays hard, and she will trash talk the entire time.”

“Bring it on.”

That’s my girl.

We get out, and Paul, who came with Jill, hands us each a pair of camo overalls and matching jackets. Then, we head over to grab our guns.

We start out with a couple of capture-the-flag games. Abby is quick and wily and can run much faster than Jill, which is honestly surprising…and super hot.

Much to Jill’s dismay, we win the first game. She calls us cheaters and then scumbags.

I look at Abby. “I said she would trash talk. I didn’t say she was good at it.”

They win the second game, and she runs around telling us to suck it. This time, Paul looks at us. “Sorry. She doesn’t get out much these days.”

“You better get your wife,” I joke.

“Have you met her? A SWAT team probably couldn’t get her.”

We play for the better part of the day, and I can’t stop watching Abby. For a girl who doesn’t get out of the house much, she sure looks like she’s fitting right in. The tried-and-true New Yorker looks like a bit of a country girl. I like her either way.

By the time we get to the free-for-all stage of play, she has little flecks of mud on her face and tiny twigs in her hair. I have no idea how she got so dirty, but it’s adorable.

If my sister and her husband weren’t here, I’d take her deeper into the woods and bend her over against one of these trees to have some fun. Then, I could get an answer to the age-old question.

If an Abigail has an orgasm in the woods, but there’s no one around to hear it, does she still make a sound?

Chapter Thirty-six

Abby

“Are you sure I got all the mud off me?” I ask. “I feel like I’m still dirty.”

He looks me up and down from the driver’s seat. “As much as I love it when you’re dirty, I think you’re good.”

I look at my fingernails…or the spot where my fingernails once were before I bit them off. “I feel like it’s under my nails.”

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