I really, truly wanted to cry just then. This was the sweetest thing they'd ever done for me. "It's not my birthday," I managed.
"So?" Kera locked tendrils of hair behind her ear. "If we want to have a celebration in your honor, we don't have to wait for your birthday to do it."
"But why?" I asked, still in shock. "I don't understand."
Mel shrugged. "We love you. After hearing about your putting-the-dishes-off birthday present from Richard the Bastard, we wanted to do something special for you."
"Thank you so much." Eyes now completely filled with tears, I hugged them both. "You guys totally rock."
"We even have presents." Kera clapped her hands in excitement.
"Wait till you see the cake!" Jumping into action, Mel ran to the kitchen. Moments later, she returned holding a rocket-shaped cake.
Wait. No. Not a rocket. The cake was shaped like a penis. The flesh-colored frosting gave the cake a very real appearance. I choked down a laugh, then decided what the hell? I laughed until my side hurt.
"Oh, you guys. I love it. This is the best non-birthday party ever." I wiped the moisture from my cheeks. "Did you make the cake, Kera?"
She nodded. "Like I'd order that monstrosity from a bakery."
"What do you want to do first?" Mel.
"You have to ask?" Ecstatic, I rubbed my hands together. "I want to open presents. Duh."
"That's what I was hoping you'd say." Mel's giddiness was almost a palpable force. She ushered me to the coffee table. "Open this one first. I want to see your reaction."
Uh-oh.
If Mel was this excited about me unveiling the contents of the box, I shuddered to think what was inside.
Mel confirmed my fears by commanding Kera to grab a camera. Swallowing, I picked up the rectangular box she'd pointed to. Shook it. Heard only a slight shuffling noise.
"Don't be such, a weenie," Mel said, biting her lower lip. "Start tearing."
Unable to hold back any longer, I took her advice and tore the wrapping apart. When the box was open, I stared down at a… vibrator? Yes, a giant green vibrator.
And that was only the beginning.
When all the presents were opened and the gifts were strewn around me, I felt like I had somehow been transported to a pleasure palace that had been sneezed on one too many times.
Everything was green.
A green miniskirt. A tight green dress. Green panties (camouflage). Green feathers. Green chains. Hiding my dismay behind a smile, I said, "Are you trying to tell me something here? Like I'm sexually frustrated and a bad dresser?"
Mel stared at me dead-on. "You need to take these items and put them to good use. Let loose for once. Just go for it with Royce. I'm telling you that with the right motivation, that man will be panting for you."
She was wrong. He hadn't needed any motivation, and he still wanted me.
"I agree with Mel," Kera said, nodding. "Although it's my hope the relationship will develop into something more than sex."
I still wasn't ready to talk about the kiss, so I said, "You guys-"
"No, don't say anything now," Mel interjected. "You're near death from hunger pains, remember?" She grinned. "Who knows? Maybe the cake will put you in a good mood."
Kera chuckled. "Let's feast."
I nodded, deciding simply to enjoy. Eat now, argue about Royce later. "Okay. But I get the balls!"
Chapter Six
A Tigress is a predator and by definition a predator is one that preys and destroys, feeding on others to sustain strength. Don't just take a bite of your opponent. Devour him whole.
The next afternoon, I strode into Cinderella Catering. Kera was behind the only desk, looking as fresh and pretty as a summer bouquet as she spoke with a customer about appropriate finger foods for an anniversary party.
I motioned that I'd wait. She nodded, and I claimed a seat at the couch. I gazed out the shop window, watching people stroll by. Mainly businessmen and women, with the occasional hand-holding couple thrown in the mix. My chest was not aching with jealousy. Nor was I imagining Royce holding my hand.
A few minutes later, Kera and I were alone and she joined me at the sitting area.
"Weren't you supposed to have lunch with Mr. Wonderful today?" she asked.
"His name is Mr. Unacceptable, and we had a change of plans," I said, answering as vaguely as I could. I still hadn't told my cousins I'd met with Royce yesterday instead. After the non-birthday party-and after I'd eaten enough penis cake to give me nightmares for a year-I'd waved them goodbye and rolled myself to bed, intent on forgetting all my troubles.
I hadn't, of course. No, I'd dreamed of Royce. Dreamed of his penis (bad Naomi), a flesh-and-blood penis, not sugar-and-vanilla, and all the things I wanted to do to it. All the things I wanted it to do to me.
Sometimes I'm such a naughty girl.
When I'd taken my morning shower, I'd pictured Royce there with me, lathering me with soap. While I dressed, I pictured Royce playfully trying to remove each item. With his teeth. While I ate a bowl of chocolate ice cream for breakfast, I pictured myself eating it off his chest. While I strolled down the sidewalk to this very shop, I pictured him tugging me to a secluded, shadowy corner and ravaging my breath away.
Why was I letting that diabolical, evilly sexy man affect me so strongly? It wasn't as if I'd never been kissed before. It wasn't as if I'd never seen a handsome man before. Uh, hello, I'd watched every Brad Pitt film ever made. Several times each. Who the hell did Royce think he was, anyway, barging into my home, playing a round of tonsil hockey, then storming away with a delicious, I'll-kiss-you-again challenge?
"Lord, I'm so jealous of you," Kera said, a wistful edge in her voice. She drew her knees to her chest, and rested her elbows on them and her cheek on her upraised palm.
"You? Jealous of me? Whatever for?"
"Whatever for?" my cousin repeated, her wistfulness twisting into incredulity. "Because you're working for the most beautiful man in the world, a beautiful man determined to pop the question to a lucky lady in the very near future. You have access to him, which gives you the edge. Women everywhere would peel the flesh from your bones and feast on your rotting carcass for a chance like that."
"One, that's gross. Two, there's no edge to being the party planner. I'm the hired help. And three, I'm not going to bore you with all the reasons I gave you before for not wanting to be with him. Reasons that still stand."
"Whatever. I've just never seen you this affected by a man. Your cheeks flush every time his name is mentioned, and your eyes glow. Literally glow. I think Royce could be the one. Your one."
I fought the urge to cover my ears. "Don't say that. Not ever again."
"I bet he meets every requirement on the list. The Mr. Right list every woman supposedly has," she added, "and not the Mr. Wrong list we thought up."
I pushed through my growing panic and hurriedly changed the focus of our conversation. "Speaking of Mr. Right, are you still on the lookout for the future Mr. Kera Gellis?"
"Of course," she said, allowing the change without protest. "I even have a prospect in mind."
My back straightened and my brow furrowed. "Who?" If she said Royce, I was going to hurt her. "As of yesterday, you weren't seeing anyone."
"I'm still not. But George Wilben has caught my interest." He was Kera's next-door neighbor and (in my opinion) not the best choice of man for Kera. Not that she was too good for him, but she was a social butterfly and George would never be able to keep up. "He copped a feel this morning."
"Of what?"
Kera's large blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "My butt."
"He didn't!" George looked like the quintessential computer nerd. Glasses. Tall, lanky body. Mussed brown hair that always blocked his vision. The only difference was, George knew nothing about computers. He was an actor for the local community theatre: