Levi looked up from the pizza in front of him—when was the last time he’d eaten pizza?—and frowned at Sonja. “What do you want to know?” She settled back in her chair and adjusted the crotch of the boxer briefs she’d pilfered from his underwear drawer after her shower. “Was the singer good? Bad? Is he Nick Blackthorne’s replacement? Will I be singing karaoke to his songs in the not-too-distant future?” Levi snorted, shook his head and took a bite from the slice of ham and pineapple pizza in his hand. Ah, now he remembered. The last time he’d eaten pizza was after he and Sonja had partaken in an eight-hour sexual marathon during the weekend her parents went out of town. He’d been nineteen, she’d been seventeen. They’d fucked in every room of the house, including Mr. and Mrs. Stone’s king-size waterbed. Pizza after sex with Sonja. It was a tradition he could happily get used to. Especially when sex with Sonja now included sex with Corbin as well.
