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She heard a car coming her way, and she turned to face it, smiling jauntily, her thumb jabbing in the direction of New York. Her blouse was unbuttoned into the creamy, freckled vale between her tits, far enough to show that she was braless under the shirt, and she contemplated, then dismissed the idea of flipping the shirt aside to give the driver a peek at a brown-pointed boob as further inducement to stop and pick her up. It might be a woman, she told herself, or maybe a guy with his kids, and she'd only hurt her chances.The car came over a low rise, and she saw that it was a Mercedes. Cathy sighed. It had to be either Chris or his father. The car stopped, pulling off the road a few feet past her, and the driver's door opened. It was Don Robinson, she knew although she'd never really met him, and he came to her."Cathy," he said, "your mother is very upset about this." Screw her," Cathy blurted. "I'm finished with Gwen. You aren't headed for New York by any chance, are you?"He took. Entering through the front, I heard her puttering in the kitchen. I headed for the stairs, I only wanted to shower, get some clothes and head out again; I still wasn't ready to deal with her. I'd decided to get a room near work and stay the hell away from her away from her. Her antics had soured my stomach and I just couldn't get over what she had done to me; I figured it would only get worse, and I was already a near basket case emotionally."Rick! Where have you been," she said, emerging from the kitchen. I just kept heading up the stairs. I didn't want to talk to her, not yet."Rick," she shouted. I just kept heading up the stairs.She followed me and tried to come into the bathroom with me, but I locked her out."Rick, we need to talk. Nothing happened. I promise nothing happened," she lied through the door.I got in the shower and let the steaming water wash over me. It helped reduce the tension that had been holding me in thrall since the night before.After showering, shaving, and.
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