My cheeks warmed as I imagined her slick thighs.“And I had this funny taste in my mouth,” she continued as my wife brought over the pancakes.“Fu...ny?” I asked then swallowed. “Like what did it taste like.”“Salty and a little bitter, but I liked it. I wouldn't mind tasting it again.” She giggled. “I dreamed I sucked a...” She blushed, glancing at me. “Nevermind.”“It would explain the salty taste,” my wife giggled.My daughter nodded, her smile growing as she glanced at me. Did she want to suck a. “You said you wanted to call me, but I don’t own a cell phone, so you gave me yours.” His eyes closed again. “Geez, Pop Tart. Everybody five and up owns a cell phone.” She kept the fact that for the last nine months she’d been cloistered in a convent in Florence, Italy to herself. “I’ll just put your phone on the nightstand by your bed. I imagine you’ll need it.” “No,” he said, his frown deepening. “Hold on to it for me. Please. I have another one anyway.” He had two phones? “I don’t think. More

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