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“She said she wanted to meet you so she could figure out if Carl needed to pound you into the pavement or not.”

“Carl?” I said, not sure what to make of this.

“Delia’s husband.”

“I see. Is Carl a large man?”

She nodded. “You’ll see.” She delivered this with a grin and then reached a hand into my lap. Her nimble fingers were unfastening my belt, and she was leaning in. Images of what she had in mind began to fly through my head as I merged onto the freeway, and it took everything I had to ask her to stop. She looked up, disappointed.

“I can’t show up to meet your sister all rumpled and sexed up,” I said.

“It won’t be messy,” she said, her voice a low purr. “I’ll swallow.”

My dick was iron hard already and it practically leapt toward her when she said that. A noise between a groan and a curse escaped my lips at the thought. “No, seriously.” I tried to shove my dick to the side, but it was standing at full attention now. I could only hope I’d be able to think it down over what was left of the drive. “You,” I told her. “Back in your seat. And be good.”

She pouted for a second, but I could see the smile in her eyes. “Later, then.”

“You can count on it,” I told her, and then I forced my mind back to the postal service. So many letters and packages. I tried to think about conveyor belts and those blue shorts the delivery people wore in the summertime.