Read Online The Devil and Danielle Webster by Cynthia Cross - Free Book Online

that way with you all the time.”
    “Exactly!   So you know the end
of the story already.”
    “That’s pathetic, he showed his
gratitude through sex.”
    “Why is it pathetic?  Women do it all the time.”
    “Tina doesn’t.”
    “Tina is a ball-buster.  You probably are the grateful
one, rather than the other way around.”
    I could tell I’d hit the nail right on the head once
again. 
    “She is not a ball-buster.  I do appreciate it when
we—damn it, Danielle, this is not your business.”
    “That’s fine—but I’ll just leave you with the thought that
you probably do a lot more to make her a satisfied customer than you ever did
for me.  And why?   Repeat business.  Because if you don’t, you won’t get any.   It’s all
about power.”
    “So you had the power with Brian Bunch, huh?”
    “Maybe.”   I couldn’t help the
huge smile that surfaced, just thinking about it. 
    “So what did he do that was so special?”
    “Why, you want to compare notes to see just how pathetically
you grovel for Tina?”  He didn’t answer.  “Okay, I’ll tell you,” I
relented.  “He spent about two hours with his head between my—“
    “Enough!  Just bleach my brain!”
    “Well,” I said sulkily.  “You’re the one who asked.”
    “So wait a minute.  Why didn’t you ask for a repeat of
Brian Bunch instead of me, if he was that great?”
    “Maybe I should have.  But if you want the truth, I
went out with him once and I haven’t heard from him since.  So there are
some not-so-good feelings there.  Unfortunate.”
    “Maybe he isn’t that needy after all,” Doug observed. 
    “Thanks.  Just another guy who wasn’t that into me,” I
said wryly.
    “If my memory serves, the best part is still ahead.”
    “What, sleeping?  That’s all we’re doing right
now.  I’d say the show is over.”
    “You don’t remember the rest of the night, do you?”
    “Why, what happened?”
    “Just watch.”
    “We’re both sleeping.  What’s there to watch?”
    Doug sounded a bit unsure.  “Wait, there’s more…I’m
sure of it.”
    Our younger selves continued to sleep.  We watched them
a good half-hour longer, making occasional comments about re-experiencing a
younger body.  I couldn’t get over how rapidly I could fall asleep, and
how quietly I breathed.  There’s something about getting older and putting
on a few pounds that leads to noisy breathing, if not outright snoring. 
    “The big night of passion is over, Doug,” I said.  “You’re
getting this confused with a different night.”
    “No, I’m not,” he said stubbornly.  “I came four times
in eight hours.”
    “Oh ho!” I said.  “So I’ve
been the gold standard all these years?”
    He backpedaled fast.  “No, that’s not it.  It was
just a numbers thing.”
    “With you men, it’s ALL a ‘numbers thing.’  So what was
supposed to happen next?”
    “You gave me a—wait, don’t you remember?”
    “Oh, geez, of course.   It’s
all about blow jobs.”
    “Well,” he said defensively, “I know it happened, and I
was…well,” he went on a bit sheepishly, “I was really looking forward to
reliving that.”
    “How can you enjoy this, when I’m right here?  Remember
me, the woman you can’t stand anymore?  Don’t you find that the least bit
off-putting?”
    “No, I just ignore you—“
    “— Some things never change!—“
    “—as much as I can with all your stupid jokes!”
    “Doug,” I said, attempting to regain control of the
conversation.  “Are you sure this mythological blow job really happened?”
    “I’m sure!  We were probably sleeping for awhile first,
though.”
    “ Ohhhh .  
No.  Now I get it.”
    “Get what?”
    “That’s why Mr. Lucifer insisted on the night being defined
as 12 midnight to 6 AM.  I’ll bet your Numbers 3
and 4 happened after 6 AM.” 
    He was outraged.  “That was the best part!”
    I couldn’t help laughing, taking satisfaction in