Promises in Death (In Death #28)(87)

“What’s the record?” somebody asked her.

“Six in one night. Of course that was before Bellaloca here,” she said through the round of applause. “We gotta squeeze in the hump and bump when and where we can these days. But the bear knows how to spring to attention.”

“We hit five one night.” Peabody waved her fresh glass. “And four is standard for special occasions. But mostly it’s one—a nice long one, with maybe a short recap. McNab’s more a puppy. Likes to play and play, then he’s gotta curl up and sleep.”

“I dated a guy once who was all buildup and no payoff. Huge cock,” Nadine added, using her hands to demonstrate—to the hilarity of women. “And he’d dock, and deflate. Like a turtle pulling back in the shell. He’s The Turtle.”

“I banged this guy once.” Trina chomped down on an éclair, swallowed the pale gold pastry that nearly matched the color of her hair. “Not bad. We got together a couple times, then he says maybe I want to take it up a few notches. I figure toys, iced. But he wants a threesome. Gotta be open, right?” She chased the pastry with a pink Bellini. “But it turns out the third party was his fricking sister. He’s The Snake,” she said to the chorus of disgust.

“Dennis can still manage two.”

“I can’t hear this.” Eve clamped her hands over her ears. “My head will explode.”

“What? I have grandchildren so I don’t have sex?” Mira asked.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. That’s the point.”

Mira poked a finger at Eve’s arm. “You have such a charming streak of prude. As I was saying, Dennis, given the right stimulation, can still go for two. When you’ve been married as long as we have, there are often stretches where warmth, comfort, the life rhythm stand in for sex. I wish that for you, Louise. The warmth and the comfort of a long life together, with the two rounds to surprise you both. Dennis is The Owl. Wise and quiet.”

“What’s Charles?” Nadine demanded. “The suave licensed companion turned sexual therapist. The sex has to be amazing.”

“Isn’t it just?” Louise gave a slow, satisfied smile that put a glow in her gray eyes. “He’s The Leopard. Elegant, graceful, strong—and believe me, he can travel across the mesa. And back again.”

“Leopards, puppies, owls—even snakes are sexy,” Nadine complained. “I get a limp turtle. Your turn,” she said to Eve, then wagged a finger when Eve shook her head. “Then I’ll project. Panther. Sleek, mysterious, coiled, with an elegance and purpose of movement.”

“Okay.”

“Not fair! Okay, what’s the record? How many times?”

“If you can count them, he didn’t drop you out.”

Nadine groaned, shuddered, grinned. “Bitch.”

Amid the laughter, Louise opened the next gift. Eve sipped her coffee. “Wolf,” she murmured, without thinking.

“Yes.” Beside her, Mira patted her hand. “They mate for life.”

When the last present was sighed over, Trina got to her feet. “Okay, girls, back to your stations. Next round of treatments.” She turned, bared her teeth at Eve. “I pulled you.”

“No. I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are. Everybody plays. Somebody get this woman a drink. The hair. It’s mine.”

She could handle a haircut. Probably. Particularly since there was no escape. “I don’t want a body treatment,” Eve began. “I don’t want a face treatment. I don’t want—”

“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. Sit.” Someone passed Trina a Bellini, which she pushed into Eve’s hand. “I saved you for last, first round anyway. We’re here for the duration if anybody wants to go again. It’s nice what you’re doing here.”

Eve narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Trina arranged her torture tools. “What am I doing here?”

“Having everybody here like this. Louise is okay. Real okay. Got a solid base. Me, I don’t have a lot of no-f*cking-ways, but I couldn’t’ve fallen for an LC and stuck. Not the big fall, you know? But she did, because he was the guy. And now she’s got the whole piñata and all the candy inside. It’s nice to have everybody here to get a bang out of it.”

Just as Eve relaxed, as she considered there might be some skinny patch of common ground here, Trina turned, and her eyes went to slits. “Now what the f**k have you done to my hair? Hacked at it didn’t you? Just couldn’t let it alone or call me in to deal?”

“I didn’t—I only. It’s my hair.”

“Not once I put the scissors to it, sister. You’re lucky I’m a genius, and a humanitarian. I’ll fix it, and I won’t shave it bald down the center to make my point.”

Trina grabbed a bottle and began to spray a mist on Eve’s hair while she worked it with her fingers. “Plus you need a facial and an eye boost. You got some fatigue.”

“It’s not fatigue, it’s alcohol. I’ve been drinking.”

“I say you got fatigue, you got fatigue. I know about Morris’s lady. Sick about it because that’s one prime man—on all counts. You’re going to get the bastard, but you’re not going to do it with hacked-up hair and tired skin. I got standards.”