“I’d like to make love to my wife,” I say. And to my own surprise, the words don’t make me sick. Her eyes light up. I glance at my glistening fingers and bring them to my mouth, licking them clean. “My dessert.” Her blush deepens. “You’re cruel,” she whispers. “Only because I want to watch you squirm until we get home. Then, Mrs. Quinn, you’ll learn what cruel really means.” “So my place?” She grins, finishing the last bites. I nod. “I’d love to see your lair.”
