“Ophelia, lower your voice,” The Beave chastises. “Why? So people don’t hear that your son would rather spend his nights working on his computer than fucking me in bed?” I’m pretty sure the gasp that escapes The Beave’s mouth can be heard three blocks away. And the clutching of her pearls is the perfect addition to her outrage. Oh, this is good. This is really fucking good. I can’t hold back my smile or stop from wishing there to be more. Keep it coming, Lia.
