Jessica called, rushing into Kim’s office where Kim sat behind her old wooden desk, pretending to do the store’s accounting, when she was really replaying the night before with Blake. Kim’s eyes went wide at the pink box Jessica held with a pink ribbon tied around it. “No card,” Jessica said. “What don’t I know that I should know?” She set it down in front of Kim. Kim inhaled and studied the box, knowing it was from Blake, who had not only lived up to his word and kissed her from head to toe and then done it all over again, several times; he’d taught her positions she’d never known possible. Then he’d insisted she stay the night so he could start her day with an orgasm. And he had. As in plural—orgasms. She’d had more sex in one evening than she’d had in five years. “Kim?” Kim’s gaze jerked to Jessica. “Yes?” Jessica sat down in the chair in front of the desk. “It’s from Blake, isn’t it?” She’d shared a censored version of her night with Blake.
