Kiki was digging through her suitcases—she’d refused to take a space in Jim’s more-than-ample closet. “Damn.” “Language,” he reminded her, coming up behind her to cup her breasts. He wriggled them as though they were animated and spoke with a Mexican accent. “Dress? Dress! We don’t need no stinkin’ dresses!” Laughing, she covered his hands with her own and leaned her head back on his chest, responding to her “talking” breasts. “Oh but you do, boobies.” “That blue one looks nice on you,” he whispered in her ear. A shiver of pure lust traveled through her torso, distracting her from her problem for a moment. “If you need a dress, sweetheart, go and get one.” She stepped away from him, focusing on her suitcase again, unwilling to meet his eyes. “It’s not that easy, Jim.” “Sure it is. Have Ernie take you to Saks, find a dress you like, put it on my account and voila!” “You know I can’t do that,” she reminded him. He frowned down at her.
