She then pushed me gently away and plopped down on her couch, leaned against the back and asked me to take off her cowboy boot. I kneeled on the floor...between her legs, lifting her foot and pulled one boot off then the other, noticing how tight her jeans were on her crotch. I looked up at her blue eyes looking into mine. While I took my wet boots off, she said, “Let’s play” and lay back against the arm at one end of the couch pulling me and pushing me to lean against the arm opposite her, both. Zoey was taller than me, her hair brassy and curly, falling about her face. We looked similar—not shocking considering our mothers were sisters and we had the same father—but she had a more ... predatory cast to her looks, a hungry beauty like a vixen on a prowl. And she had the body for it. Like Aunt Cheryl, Zoey was stacked, her belly shirt stretch taut over her large breasts. Clint was always ogling her.And I had always been jealous of how beautiful she was. Eighteen and so adult. So mature.. They went on a cruise around the water, eating dinner on the ferry. They were the youngest ones on the boat, and it was filled with happy couples, some who'd obviously been together a long time. They slow danced, holding each other tightly on the small dance floor.Then they went to the opera, seeing Les Miserables. It was incredible. And she was laughing the whole time, at all Ryan's jokes. Being with him was the best part of the play.They were so in love, it was so perfect. Too good to be. " He drew me out into the corridor.I followed him. We passed by the room where I had first seen the brown-clad girls that were the object of the Prince's benevolence. A group of them were seated in a semi-circle at one end of the room. In the centre, to my astonishment, sat the Prince, engaged in earnest discussion with the group. He was more animated than I had seen him before. Smiling and laughing together with the group. "I had not realised that the Prince was so directly involved," I.