It was worrying, but I couldn’t begrudge her a little help in coping, and as good as I was feeling my euphoria had made me neither a physician nor a...psychologist, so I don’t know what I would have done anyway.Regardless, despite my new awareness of her struggles, Mom acted more or less the same as she had since the disaster. So I shelved that particular concern for the moment.The second thing to be solved was Tiff. Hey, there were only two other people on the damned boat, who or what else. ’ ‘Well then, I’m confused. Obviously I need another drink, and yes, if I may, I’d like to call Brigit, because yes, I do love her, and you’re absolutely right, Deb — I’d feel better if I told her that.’ Deb was glaring at him, not quite angry, but not real happy, either. Sam walked to her and leaned over, kissed her on the forehead, then Deb stood up and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then they hugged. ‘You know what, Deb? I hate to say this, but I love the hell out of you. And I think John was. His index fingers trace my bottom lip, and he pushes his index and middle fingers into my mouth, letting me taste the salty tang of my arousal."Suck," he whispers. I swirl my tongue around and between his fingers.Hmm . . . even I taste good on his fingers.His hands skim up my arms to the cuffs above my head, and he unclips them, freeing me. Turning me around so I'm facing the wall, he tugs on my hair, pulling me into his arms. He angles my head to one side and skims his lips up my throat to my. My sisters voice to be exact. "Daniel, let's go!" What?! But I just got up! I still need to get ready!" I shout back, starting to get ready. I quickly style my short, sandy-blonde hair. And by "style" I mean "make sure I don't look like a tornado victim". After it looks presentable, I rush to get dressed. A short-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans slide onto my body as I look for a pair of shoes to wear. I ended up with a pair of black sneakers.I rush out of the house, grabbing my messengers'.