January 12, this year

 

“Do we really have to go?” I whined to Etta.  “Because you, in that dress…” I swallowed.

She turned to face me, eyes that sinful bluish-grey color that has stayed constant around me for the past two weeks.  I have realized that bluish-grey meant turned on.  “You like?”

“I more than like.”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head down.  I followed her eyes, set on the hardened cock in my dress pants.  She raised her eyebrow.  “I can tell.”  She smiled.  “How can you possibly be hard again, Nathaniel?  We’ve been at it pretty much non-stop for the last two weeks.”

She’s not wrong.  It seems every time we’re alone together, I end up inside her one way or another.  It’s been glorious.

I walked toward her and ran my hand from her collar bone, across her shoulder, and down her arm to her hand.  “I’m making up for lost time.” I brought her hand up to my mouth and held it there.

She smiled.  “The way I see it, we have a lifetime.  We don’t have to have all the sex now.  If we keep up this pace, one of us is bound to explode.”

I leaned closer and stared in her eyes.  “Not thirty minutes ago, you exploded around my cock right before I exploded inside you.” I kissed her softly on her lips, across her cheek and to her ear.  I lowered my voice to the husky whisper she likes.  “I really like the idea of us exploding.”

She blushed and yanked her hand away from me.  “Dammit, Nathaniel,” she growled.  “You can’t say stuff like that to me.  Now I need to change my underwear.”  I couldn’t help but laugh at the feisty way she rummaged around her underwear drawer. 

“You might want to grab a few extra pair and put them in your bag, because looking at you in that stunning, sinful green dress all night, I will probably say more things that will get you wet.”

She gaped at me for a moment before she shook her head and stormed off to the bathroom.  “Just shut up and go let the dog out.  I’ll be ready in a minute.”

 

***

 

“Tell me again why their rehearsal dinner is on a Thursday,” I asked as I turned into the church parking lot.

“Mom and Emily had a fight about where to have the wedding.  Emily was against getting married in a church, and they fought about it for a long time, which was stupid because Mom always gets her way with things like this.  Emily finally relented to Mom’s wishes at Christmas, and this was the only relatively nice Methodist church that Mom could find on short notice that was both close to the reception and had an opening for this weekend.  It has bingo on Friday nights, so we had to schedule the rehearsal for tonight.  Emily liked the Thursday idea, anyway, because then we can have the bachelor and bachelorette parties tonight with less crowds and have time to recover before the wedding.”

I looked at the crumbling church.  “This is relatively nice?”

She pursed her lips.  “I’m sure it’ll be nicer on the inside.”

As I helped her out of the car, I didn’t let go of her hand when we walked toward the church.  I still was in awe of how she allowed me to touch her and hold her so openly now.  I never wanted to stop.

But as soon as we pulled open ancient, creaking doors, we smelled the mustiness of the church.  It looked a little run down from the hallway.  Two more steps and she and I were pulled apart, me by Miles, her by her sister and a pregnant woman, who Etta promptly hugged.

“Nate, why did Tater ask me to be in this wedding?” Miles complained quietly.  “Doesn’t he have friends of his own?  Dude, I don’t want to do this.  I mean, I love my sister…”

I only half listened to Miles as I watched Etta with the pregnant woman.  I watched her rub her stomach and bend down to get a closer look.  It seemed as though she was talking to the stomach while she rubbed.  Then, she quickly moved her hand and laughed.  The other woman nodded, and Etta resumed feeling up the other woman’s stomach again.  Someday, hopefully in the near future, she would be the one getting her stomach felt up by her friends.  I could hardly wait for that day.

“… but this is so stupid.  I’m only thirteen, why do I want to be in a wedding?”

I put my arm around Miles’s shoulders.  “Look at it this way, kiddo.  You’re not doing it for Tater; you’re doing it for Emily.  It’s only one day, a short part of the day at that, and if you play your cards right, Emily will owe you a big favor.”  I smiled at the kid.  “It never hurts to have one of those in your pocket.”

“Wow,” a deep voice reverberated around the ancient walls of the hallway.  “You must be Etta. You look so much like Emily.”

I looked over to see my girlfriend (holy shit, I could finally call Etta Fontella Sullivan my girlfriend!) blushing, stumbling for words, as she stared, open-mouthed, at a taller-than-me, broad, obviously very fit guy, who had his back to me.  He reached out his hand, and she dreamily took his in hers, shaking his slowly and smiling coyly at him.  She didn’t let go.

She did that twisty, swinging thing flirting girls do, that thing I couldn’t remember if she had ever done to me, I might add.  She said something to him I didn’t catch, something that made her blush.  She still didn’t let go of his hand.

This had to stop.

I strode over to them, with Miles in tow, since I still had my arm around him.  A couple of steps from Etta, I let go of Miles, which caused him to stumble a bit (I might’ve, maybe, kinda, accidentally pushed him a little), and sidled up to Etta, slipping my arm around her waist and kinda forcefully pulling her into me.  I turned to face the competition for the first time and thrust out my right hand.

“Hey, I’m…”

“Holy shit, you’re Nate Slaughter!” the threat exclaimed, dropping Etta’s hand and grabbing mine.

“Riley!” the pregnant woman scolded.

“But Nessa,” he kept vigorously shaking my hand, clasping his other hand over the top.  “This is Nate Slaughter!  Remember?  We talked about him, when you asked me who I’d geek out meeting?  This is him.  The Nate-Dog Slaughter.  Damn.”

“Okay, Mr. Doesn’t-Cuss-Ever,” the pregnant one said, “that’s twice, and we’re in a church.”  She placed her hands over his.  “Now, let go of the man’s hand and talk to him like a normal person.”  She turned to me.  “Hi, Nate, we’ve met before.  I’m Vanessa, Emily’s maid of honor.”

“Matron,” Emily interjected.  “Matron of honor.”

Vanessa gritted her teeth.  “I already told you… I. Hate. That. Word.  Matron,” she spat, and it sounded like more of a curse than what the guy said.  She continued her tirade.  “It sounds like a fat old cat lady, and I already have two tiny humans making me look fat, I don’t need a verbal reminder that I am.  Okay?”

I was too busy getting a little freaked out by Vanessa’s grouchy rant that I failed to notice my girlfriend patting the big guy’s biceps. 

“I’m Riley,” the big guy said in my face, grabbing my hand again, forcing Etta’s hand off his really big muscle.  “Riley Tate.  A big fan of yours.  I was in the stands when you played your last home game.  The one where you hit the cycle?  And your grand slam.  You scored or knocked in all the runs in that game.  I almost caught one of your foul balls.  I think it was your best game ever.”

Had I been paying attention to him and not my girlfriend’s reaction to him or the grumpy pregnant chick, I would have recognized Riley fucking Tate, the one whose movies Etta insisted we watch these past two weeks in between our sexcapades.  Etta’s movie-star crush.  Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Riley,” Vanessa grabbed his forearm, “You’re doing it again.  Let go of Nate and come on.  I need your help inside.”

“Oh, right.”  He moved toward her, then came to stand back in front of me.  “We’ll talk later, and I can get an autograph, right?”

Vanessa laughed and waddled over to drag her husband away, rapid-fire speaking in a low tone the entire way through the doors, as he helped her walk.  “Jeez, Riley, when you said ‘geek out,’ I didn’t know you meant you would go all fangirl and actually act like a geek.  Wow, I didn’t think it was possible that you could ever do anything to turn me off.  This comes close.”  She giggled and he smiled, perfect dimples and all.  “Seriously, you get freaked out if fans get all loopy when they meet you, so what do you think Nate thinks…”

I turned toward Etta, who was watching Riley walk away, a look of dreamy, disbelieving awe on her face.  “I just touched Riley Tate,” she sighed.

I lifted her chin so her eyes met mine.  She smiled lazily and so adorably, I had to kiss her nose.  “You gonna be okay?”

“Babe, that was Riley Tate!”

“Yeah huh.”  She sighed again.  I kissed her cheek and whispered, “You remember who you’re here with, right?”

“You, Nathaniel,” she agreed.  Then she looked back through the double doors.  “But he’s famous.”

I scoffed.  “Uh, hello!  I’m famous!”

She mooned his direction.  “Yeah, but… not like he is.”

“Etta!” her mother whisper-yelled from the doors leading into the worship hall, “We’re waiting on you.  Come.  On.”

“Coming!”  Etta practically ran through the doors. 

I stood there for a minute, pinching the bridge of my nose, hoping this night would hurry up and end so I could prove to Etta that I was the only famous guy she needed.

 

***

 

The inside of the church was really nice.  The stained glass alone was stunning, and the high cathedral ceilings and original oak pews made me question the history behind the church.  It had to be some protected historical building, or at least it seemed it should be.  I wondered what it would take to restore it to its former glory.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch, well, except they had to change how the bridesmaids walked down the aisle.  At first, the groomsmen were to stand with Tater while the bridesmaids walked, but since Vanessa claimed she had pulled a muscle during yoga (which based on the way she blushed when she said it, it was way more likely that she pulled it having perfect sex with her perfect husband), she had a hard time walking without assistance.  Therefore, the decision was made to have the best man, some big, tattooed, wall of a guy, walk with her.  Etta would walk with Miles, and Tater’s sister, I think her name is Kaelyn, was to walk with Emily’s and Etta’s cousin, Brody. 

I sat in the pews watching the awkwardness between Brody and Kaelyn with rapt fascination.  Brody and I hung out when Etta and I lived together in college.  He would come visit several times a year.  Last night, Etta explained that Brody stayed with Emily and Tater for a while when he was in L.A. while working with a company developing some software or something.  As soon as he came home a couple of weeks ago, he and his fiancé called it quits.  My guess was that he must have met Kaelyn in L.A. because the way they tensed and glared at each other could only mean they had met before, and it had not gone well.  I wondered if she was the reason Brody’s relationship with his fiancé ended.

I really hate relationship drama, but I was really bored sitting in the pew, and Riley was too busy watching Vanessa like a hawk since she almost fell.  I hoped Etta would get the Brody-Kaelyn scoop so we could discuss it on the way to the restaurant.  What?  I was interested.  It had nothing to do with distracting my girlfriend from a certain actor…

“Nathaniel,” Etta’s mom cooed.  “I need your help on Saturday.  Riley?  You, too.  Will you both be ushers?  I didn’t think about acquiring anyone to do the job, and the wedding planner just asked who will be ushering the guests.  I kind of already volunteered you two.  I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Great.  I will never say no to Etta’s mom, but I can only imagine what will happen when these unassuming guests, arriving to attend a wedding for Emily, who is already marrying a tattooed guy named after a potato, find out they will be escorted to their seats by either Nathaniel Slaughter, injured-and-could-be-washed-up professional baseball player, or The Riley Tate, action hero extraordinaire. 

Riley looked at me, and based on his expression, he was thinking something similar.  He looked like he was trying not to laugh, shrugged, and nodded at me, so I answered for both of us.

“Sure, Mrs. Sullivan.  We’d be honored.”

“Oh, thank you,” she hugged me.  “And thank you, Riley.”  She hugged him, and it did not go unnoticed that her hug lingered a bit longer for Riley than it did for me.  I think she even sniffed him.  I sighed.

“Hey, Nate,” Riley said tentatively.  “I wanted to apologize… for out in the hallway.”  He smiled.  “I’m not usually that spastic when meeting new people.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “Can we please forget that meeting happened?  Start over?”

I smiled, totally not feeling it yet, but yeah, what the hell.  He looked sincere and not at all like  the psychotic-crazed super fan he did thirty minutes ago.  So, I could at least give the guy another chance.  “Sure.”  I stuck out my hand.  “Nate Slaughter.”

Riley laughed, took my hand and shook it the standard two times as he said,  “Riley Tate.  Nice to finally meet you.”  He dropped my hand.  “I’m sorry for that.  I do hate it when fans get crazy.  I have never acted like that in my life.  It was… awkward, but you know, that’s not even the worst first meeting I’ve had with someone.  Someday I’ll have to tell you the story of how Vanessa and I met.  It puts this meeting to shame.”

“I’d love to hear it.”  If it’s more awkward than this meeting, it has to be a story worth hearing.

“Nathaniel,” Etta called as she rushed over to me.  She put a hand on Riley’s forearm, so whatever positive steps that just transpired between Riley and me?  Gone.  “I am going to ride to the restaurant with Riley and Vanessa.  I saw the way she is moving, and I asked her some questions about it.  I think the pain she is experiencing is a mild sciatica, and I’m going to show her some at-home treatments and stretches she can do to alleviate the pain.  You don’t mind, do you?”

“I have to ride by myself?” I almost pouted.

“No, I’ll ask Miles to ride with you.  You won’t be alone.”

Great.  I get Miles the sulky teen rather than my new girlfriend, who’d rather ride with her (I’m secure enough in my manhood to admit) perfectly-attractive, man-meat, actor crush than with me.  I’m not liking this night more and more.

 

***

 

After the dinner, where I had to watch my girlfriend flirt unmercifully with another man… alright, it wasn’t flirting per se, but she did touch him a lot, like she did that night out with Josh and Jackson.  I knew it was just how Etta operated.  I mean she did touch everyone she talked to tonight the same way, but I still had to fight hard not to allow the residual anger from that night to bleed over to this one.

We rode to Brody’s house, where we were all to meet before the commencement of the parties.  The house was brand new and still smelled of new carpet and fresh paint.  The guys were staying here to drink and play poker and the girls were going who knows where.  Brody made us drinks, and my girlfriend kept up the innocent “flirting” with Riley.  Yeah, yeah, she was the same with everyone else, too, but it only bugged me when she spoke to Riley.

I was seething and trying really hard to cover it up.

“Hey, Slugger,” Emily whispered.  “Stop with the jealous glaring.  Riley is a great guy who’s totally head over balls for Ness.  Besides, you can’t kill him by glaring.”

I rolled my eyes at the “great guy” comment.  “I’m not jealous.  I’ve never been jealous of anyone, ever.”

She laughed loudly, drawing looks from most of the crowd.  Etta’s gorgeous eyes stayed on Riley, though.  “Right, Nate.”  She leaned in closer and spoke lowly in my ear.  “And everyone who’s ever known you has never witnessed any of your jealous fits over my sister, ever, either.  Huh?”  She giggled.  “Look, I may not have been around her much in the past few years, but I still know my sister.  Based on how she is sitting right now, she needs to go to the bathroom and will get up in a few minutes.”  She stood, leaned closer, and turned her back to the others.  “That’s when you make your move.”  She patted my shoulder and walked away.

Sure enough, two minutes later, Etta asked Brody to show her to the bathroom.

I slipped out of the room undetected and followed them.  I waited in the darkened hallway outside of the door.  When she opened it, she gasped when she saw me.  I grabbed her hips, slammed her to me, and kissed her, guiding her back into the bathroom.  I kicked the door closed behind me. 

Walking her backward, I smiled against her lips and lifted her up onto the counter, spread her legs, pulled her to the edge, and pushed my hardness into her sweet spot.  “You feel that, Etta?”  She gasped.  “That’s all for you.”  I rubbed my cock against her center slowly, so she would feel every inch of it.  “Tell me, do you like how my cock feels against you?”  She nodded, never taking her darkening eyes off mine.  “Are you wet?”  She whimpered.  “Is it all just for me?”  She made a noise that sounded like an agreement.  “Let me see.”  I trailed my hand up the inside of her thigh and rubbed my thumb against her center over her panties.  “Feels pretty wet to me.  What if I pushed these panties to the side and fucked you right now.  Would I slide right in?”

She squirmed and did that grunt-whine thing she does that turns me on so much. 

“Let’s find out.”  I slammed my mouth against hers while undoing my belt.  She reached down, undoing my button and zipper to help the process go faster.  “Take out my cock, Etta.”  She moved her hands down my underwear and grasped my cock while I moved her panties to the side.  “Put me where you need me.”  She guided me to her opening, and when I felt the tip slip in, I said, “Hold on.  This is going to be quick.”

In one smooth stroke, I bottomed out in the woman I love.  I dropped my head back and let out a quiet, “Fuck,” and began a furious pace, almost punishing her with each thrust.  I gauged her reaction to see if I was being too rough, but the blissed-out expression on her face and her noises told me she was loving it.  She gripped my upper arms (yeah, she grabbed my biceps, so suck it, fucking Riley Tate) tightly.

“Who’s fucking you, Etta?”

She panted and whimpered.

“Etta, I asked you a question.” I slowed my movements.  “Tell me who’s fucking you.”

“You are,” she barely whispered.

I pulled back slowly.  “Who is?”  As I forcefully thrust forward, she gasped.

“You are, Nathaniel.”  My name from her mouth almost made me come.

Grabbing her hips, I pulled her back to me hard.  “You’re God damn right I am.  You love it, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” she hissed through her clinched teeth.

I felt her tighten around me, knowing that meant she was about to come.  I paced my thumb on her clit and pressed down.  She detonated around me.  I kept up my pace, but bent my knees slightly, careful of my still healing one, but it allowed me to hit her at a different angle which I found, in my vast exploration of her body, prolongs her orgasm.  Once I felt her rhythmic spasms slowing, I allowed myself to let go.  I saw stars, and I know I was not quiet, but neither was she.  In fact, I’m sure we were loud enough to be heard, but I had a hard time caring.

She opened her eyes and looked at me dreamily as I still slowly moved inside her. 

“What was that?” she asked softly. 

“That was me,”  I leaned in and whispered with my lips against her ear, “fucking my girlfriend.”

She pulled her head back and smiled, raising her eyebrow.  “That felt more like you were staking your claim.”  She ran her hands up my shoulders to my face, caressing lovingly, all the while squeezing her muscles around my very-happy-but-tired cock.  It twitched, realizing it might not get to go to sleep just yet.  “Did you need to claim me?”

I sighed.  “Maybe.”

“Why?”

I decided honesty would possibly win me points, and with her, I had always been honest.  Well, you know, except for secretly being in love with her since I met her, and for that time when I told her she had dreamed I touched her, and for what I had planned after the wedding.  But why split hairs? 

I whispered, “He’s Riley fucking Tate.  He’s taller, broader, dimpled, perfect, and I’m pretty sure you would run away with him if he so much as batted his ridiculously-long-for-a-guy eyelashes in your direction.” 

The smile turned into a smirk, but she lowered her voice to match mine.  “No, I wouldn’t.  He’s married, and very obviously loves Vanessa, who is my sister’s best friend by the way.  I would never do that to her.”

I ground my teeth.  “And that’s the only reason you wouldn’t?”

She moved her hips slowly and kept squeezing me in a way that had me fully hard again.  “No, Nathaniel.”  She kissed me.  “I love you.  Only you.  I have for a long time, and I will for the rest of my life.”  She started moving faster.  “I never really thought I liked jealousy.  This is pretty hot, though.”

“I’m not jeal…” I threw my head back and nodded, remembering to be honest,  “Yeah, okay, whatever, maybe I’m a little jealous.”  I grabbed her hips to steady her and took over the movements.  “Just stop touching him.”  I dropped my forehead to hers.  “And remember, I’m fucking famous, too.”  She laughed, but stopped as I slammed against her harder.  “Think you can come again?”  She shook her head no.  “Even if I do this?”  I reached down and plucked at her clit roughly, rubbing it not-so-gently between my thumb and forefinger, another little trick I learned in my explorations.  It works every time.  She cried out right before she started pulsing around my cock.  I watched her face, loving how I was the only one that would get to see it at times like this ever again. 

“Who made you come twice in less than five minutes, Etta?”

She opened her eyes and whispered.  “You did.  Nathaniel.” She kissed me softly. “James.” She kissed me again.  “Slaughter.”  Then she slammed her mouth on mine, tangled her fingers in my hair, and kissed the life out of me.  She pulled back to look me in the eyes.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Five minutes later, we both tried to quietly sneak back into Brody’s living room, but we were met with raucous applause, cheers, and whistling. 

“Damn, you two.  Twice?” Emily asked.  Etta blushed and buried her head in my shoulder. “No, you don’t get to be embarrassed about that.  You fucking own that shit.  Besides, it sounded like it was earth shattering.”  She held up her hand to Etta.  “Way to go, Eddie!”  They both giggled and slapped hands in this elaborate, twin-only handshake thing. 

It was so good to see them getting along again.

“I’m jealous,” Vanessa whined.  “Riley won’t take me like that anymore, ever since I became so gargantuan with two times his devil’s spawn.  And here I am, big as a friggin rhino, horny like one, too, all the time…”

Riley silenced her with a kiss.  “I’ll see what I can do later,” he said quietly in her ear, but we all heard it.

Brody, who looked like he needed a change of subject, walked around the couch and clapped Tater on the shoulder.  “So, are you ready for a lifetime with my cousin, Tater?  That’s a long time with this one.”  He pointed to Emily.  She stuck her tongue out at her cousin.  “And come to think of it, something I’ve always wanted to ask… is your name really Tater?”

The normally laid-back Tater seemed to grow uncomfortable.  “No, it’s a nickname from childhood.”

Emily came in to save her betrothed.  “He’s used it in his job because people remember it.  There’s only one Tater.”  She smiled and snuggled into Tater’s side.  “Everyone wants a Tater Tattoo.”

He smiled down at Emily and whispered something in her ear that made her blush.

“But why Tater?  Do you just really love tater tots?”  Vanessa giggled, as she laid down on her side, her head on her husband’s lap, while he rubbed her lower back and butt with a tennis ball, something Etta had told him to do.

“His real name is Keaton,” Kaelyn provided.  “He uses his nickname because he wants to distance himself from our father and his business.”

“Oh, yeah?  What business is your dad in, Tater?” Riley asked.

Tater looked around the room, very sheepishly and mumbled something under his breath. 

Everyone looked to one another to see if anyone heard what he said.

“Hotels.”  Kaelyn rolled her eyes.  “Our dad owns the Pelican Resorts and Casinos.”

“Wait.  Your dad is Tristan Cartupeli?” Brody asked, and he seemed angry. 

Kaelyn glared at him.  “Yes,” she answered.  She shot her eyes at Tater and relaxed her expression.  “Our last name is actually how Keaton got his nickname.”

“How do you go from an Italian last name to a potato?” Vanessa quipped.

All eyes landed on Tater, but Kaelyn answered for him.

“One of the guys Keaton went to school with had a mother, who was rumored to be some mail-order bride or something.  She was from one of those L countries right next to Russia, Lithuania maybe?  When she met Keaton, she told him kartupelis meant potato in one of the languages.”

“It’s Latvian,” Tater amended.

“So his friends started calling him Tater.  I always hated that nickname.  I wish he’d use what I called him.”

Brody asked about drinks, effectively ending that conversation.  Someone changed the subject, but I watched Emily.  Based on her expression, the news of where Tater originated, both his nickname and his family, wasn’t news to her.  So that was good.  Starting a marriage without full disclosure would not be a good thing.  I felt the need to look out for Emily, since one day soon, she would be my sister-in-law.

Hopefully soon.

Really soon.

 

***

 

“Are we going to see the naked men now?” Vanessa yawned to Riley as he picked her up off the couch.  She fell asleep about an hour ago while Riley was massaging her butt. 

“No, Nessa,” Riley told her.  “We’re going back to your dad’s.”

After Vanessa fell asleep, everyone decided that we could forgo the parties.  Emily admitted she only agreed to the strip club because Vanessa wanted to go, and the guys didn’t care one way or another about playing poker. Someone made the joke about how getting old sucked, but I was looking forward to getting Etta home and doing some more hands-on learning of her body.

“Awwww, but I want to go see the hot guys dance and get naked.  I didn’t get to do it before our wedding.  In fact, I’ve never seen a male stripper, and after that book Emily made me read about that really hot one, I wanna see some peen.  Wasn’t that his name, Em, Peen?”

“Yeah,” Emily answered.  “I love that book, but his real name was Keane.”

“Yeah, I loved it, too.  He was funny and hot.”

“We’ll go see strippers after you have those babies,” Emily promised.  “The strip clubs are better back home, anyway.”

“I’ll dance for you,” Riley told Vanessa, then he lowered his voice. “And I’ll even show you my peen.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, Tate,” Vanessa sleepily, but loudly, said.  She apparently failed quiet voice in kindergarten.  “Oh, how I do love your peen, though.”  She yawned.  “Hey, if they ever made the movie, you could play Keane, except he’s a lot younger than you.  Oh, and then there’s the whole you-can’t-dance thing.  And he takes off his clothes, so everyone would see your tushy.  That would make Gram so happy, but not your momma, and certainly not me.  That ass is all mine.”  She smiled lazily at her husband. 

I turned to look at Etta and followed her eyes to Riley’s ass.  Great.  Now, I was looking at Riley’s ass.  Fuck.  Wouldn’t you know, he has a great ass.  More gravy for the Riley-Tate train. 

I slipped my arm around her and pulled her to me.  “Do I need to remind you again who brought you here?”

She looked up at me and smiled devilishly.  “Yes, you absolutely do.”