CHAPTER FIVE
"How old are you?"
"Does it make any difference?" She took another jolt from the bottle.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Twenty."
"Bullshit."
"Nineteen."
He shook his head.
"All right, dammit, eighteen. But I been around the horn, lover. I'm safe."
"Yeah," Wiley nodded, "I'll just bet you are. Now, why don't you just talk."
"Uh-huh. After."
"Sure?"
"Very sure." She handed him the bottle and opened her arms in invitation.
He capped and dropped the bottle back in his bag and reached for her. She came into his arms like they were made for her.
While they kissed, Trina took his hand and cupped the breast that had popped from the halter. Somehow, she freed the other breast and then moved his hand. "Nice?"
"Very nice." He pulled the tie on the halter and it fell away.
"C-cups,
