I was really beginning to get pissed off with Jessie. I dialed his number again.
Just as I thought I would have to leave another voice mail, he picked up.
“Oh, good,” I said, “I need you to bring the Ford.”
He hesitated. “Yeah…I got your messages. I don’t know about this, Kay. My car won’t make it to New York City.”
“It only needs to get me to the airport.”
Early in any relationship, my lovers all learn to love the thunder. The thunder is better than any drug or pheromone, far more central to my sex life than the person I may actually be with. Eventually, my partners figure this out. They love storms in the beginning because the thunder makes me wild in bed…but in the end, they all leave me frustrated and shaking in the middle of a spring squall.
