Page 7 of Naughty All the Way

“Mama Long!” The others rise as one inebriated group to give me hugs, and I return all of them warmly. They’re all like my daughters in their own individual ways; I’ve known many of them since they were in preschool with Britanya.

There’s Abby, the ringleader who still looks every bit the former high school cheerleader, with her brown ringlets and honey-colored eyes. Diana, the first-generation Mexican-American daughter of immigrants who’d rebelled rather spectacularly against their strict upbringing, but seemed to be coming back around now that she was facing the realities of adulthood. Ginger, a woman who many thought was my daughter, with her red hair swept into the tight ballerina bun that was as much a part of her as breathing. And the surprise—and love—of my life, Britanya. Built curvy like me but taller and skinnier, she sported her father’s blond hair and my blue eyes, arresting nearly every man into stunned silence when they first met her. No surprise, then, that when she’d met Matthew the first day of college, he’d held on tight.

They were sweet, and clearly in love. Too young to get married, but I didn’t have a leg to stand on seeing as how Steve knocked me up at sixteen and we headed to the courthouse on my eighteenth birthday. Britanya liked to tease me that at least she’d waited till she graduated college, but it wasn’t that funny.

“Shots!” Abby squeals after Britanya releases me.

I look into Britanya’s eyes. “How are you feeling, baby girl?”

She smirks, then yells, “Like I’m about to see some nearly naked men, woo!”

The rest of them yell back, and they’re so infectious that I let them take me with them. And hey, who can say no to some willing eye candy?

Britanya motions me to come with her to the kitchen, and as we make a round of pink lemonade and vodka shots, I marvel at the girls’ ability to drink and still know they’ll be ready to go in the morning.

We down the shots and the girls proudly show the toys they’ve all gotten from the afternoon’s “tea and crumpets” activity, which is a nice way of saying they had a lady who sells sex toys and baked goods come by. Honestly, not a bad gig if you can get it. Given what I deal with every day as a psychologist, the urge to ditch my practice and take up baking and sex-toy selling sounds pretty appealing.

The cabin is huge, with more bedrooms than girls, and as they take their toys back to the rooms upstairs, I head to the bathroom off of Britanya’s downstairs suite. She and Matthew plan to stay here a few days after the wedding, so Britanya immediately claimed the biggest room. There’s a large picture window facing the water, and even though it’s completely dark outside, there’s just enough light coming from the houses situated off the lake to give me a hint of how beautiful it must be when it’s not snowing outside.

Speaking of which. “Are you sure these guys are going to make it?” I ask Britanya, gesturing to the window.

She shrugs. “I mean, it’s Canada. Surely they’re used to snow?”

“You’re probably right.”

Another hour passes, and the day catches up with me. I yawn, realizing with more than a little sadness that even the hilarity of drinking out of penis-shaped straw toppers can’t keep me awake. Probably for the best, though. Who really wants their mom watching as they get a lap dance from someone, anyway? Besides, I realize with a grin, this way I can just stay here for the night. I blame my five a.m. alarm for not realizing I could stay here the moment I arrived.

I stand and make my apologies, grab one of Brit’s sweatshirts, and head up to the empty bedroom. Undressing down to my panties and bra, I throw on the sweatshirt and turn out the light, snuggling under the covers and popping my earbuds in. I open the Kindle app on my phone, and in moments, the world falls away as I get lost in a romantasy.

I couldn’t begin to say what time it is when a sliver of light cuts into the room, only that I’m well into a spicy scene that’s got me entirely too turned on and I’m half-contemplating getting myself off. I pull out an earbud to stop the music and blacken my phone, waiting for the light to come on.

Only it doesn’t.

Instead, I watch as a tall form enters, swearing softly as he closes the door behind him.

“Utter and complete shit.” The guy’s voice is quiet as he seems to laugh at himself. “But at least it’s over.” He sits down on the edge of the mattress, completely oblivious to the fact of my being in it, and runs a hand through his hair.

He lets himself fall back onto the bed, and when his arm smacks my leg, he gives a shout.

“Whoa there, cowboy,” I say. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

In the dim light coming through the curtains, I see him holding a hand up to his chest. His very bare chest.

I squint, willing my eyes to work a little better. Does he have abow tieon? Giddily, I determine that he does.

Well, this should be fun.

5

KAYLA

“Ididn’t know anyone would be up here,” the guy finally croaks out.

“Clearly,” I laugh. “You one of the dancers here for the bachelorette party?”

He hangs his head. “I don’t think you could call what I just diddancing. But yeah, that’s why I’m here.” It sounds like if I could see him, he’d have a sheepish grin on his face.

“This your first time?” I ask.

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