Page 84 of Anyone But You

“Shit. Where do I begin?” I muttered, scrolling through the feed. “Here. This maniac wrote, ‘I printed this picture and licked it. I have no regrets.’”

“That’s not that bad,” Victoria responded. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head.

“Not that bad? Okay. What about this? ‘I want Zaddy Knox to knead my pussy like he kneaded that dough.’”

Victoria shrugged and hummed. “Also typical.”

“Typical, she says. I’ll show you. This future Arkham patient said, ‘The toppings on the pizza spell out ‘Help.’ I cracked the cipher. Victoria is clearly being held against her will.’ And if that wasn’t enough, another user said, ‘I zoomed in and enhanced the reflection on the wine glass. That is not Victoria. It’s a clone.’”

Victoria sucked her teeth and set two plates on the table.

“That’s what they always say when people lose weight. They did it to Gucci Mane and Fat Joe.”

“Gucci who?”

Victoria rolled her eyes, tapped at her screen, and soon rap lyrics about a “very freaky girl” blared from the home’s Bluetooth speakers. My head bobbed as my wife rapped and swayed.

“Dance with me, Gio,” she suggested, offering a hand.

“I am talented and skilled in many things, but dancing is not my forte,” I argued gently.

“Boo,” she protested before turning off the song.

“It is for the best. I would’ve trampled all over these pretty pink toes of yours,” I said, gathering her into my arms.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” I murmured, caressing her jaw. Her lips graced mine, and my hand slid down to her ass. I cupped her harshly, lifting her onto her toes. She gasped, and I didn’t hesitate to taste her tongue. It tasted like honey and reminded me of another sweet flavor I was missing.

I picked her up, maneuvering to the kitchen table.

“Gio, p-put me down. You’re not supposed to—”

I silenced her with another kiss and sat her on the table. I kissed her fervently like a man starved for affection or like a man lost at sea. I pushed myself between her thighs and laughed when she mewled like her childhood feral cat, Nala.

“You feel that, Tori?”

“Fuck, Gio. Don’t do this to me,” she moaned pathetically.

“I’m gonna tell you how this is going to go, Mrs. Ramsey. I’ll have you for breakfast,” I said, sliding a hand underneath her dress shirt. I didn’t stop until I reached her slick center. She hissed and jerked on the table when I slid a finger into her. She was so wet that I promptly added another. “And then you’re gonna fuck me tonight for dessert,” I demanded, slipping my fingers out of her.

“Knox, you can’t—”

“Ican’t participate in any strenuous activity, but that doesn’t mean thatyoucan’t.”

That made her smile. “You’re always looking for loopholes.”

“No, that would be my accountant.”

“Fine. How do you want it?”

“Oof. Tough call. No, it’s not. I want to see that ass.”

She giggled, saying, “Then ass you shall see. Now, are you gonna eat this pussy or what?”

“I’ll take Eat the Pussy for $200.00.”

“Make me squirt, and it’s a Daily Double.”