I buried my head in his gray shirt, which was one of my favorites because it outlined his torso just enough to make me crave what was underneath. His cologne wafted into my nose, and I felt a tingle south in my Bermuda Triangle. Scent had always been a hot zone for me. Miles’s scent turned me on faster than a meth head running from an exploding lab.

I couldn’t help myself as cupped his massive cock. He was already halfway hard.

“Someone is happy I’m here.” I nuzzled my face in the crook of his neck. I loved that Miles was tall. His six-foot-four-inch frame easily encompassed me at five seven.

“He’s very happy you’re here. Maybe you should give him a kiss… with tongue.” He palmed his cock and gave me a wink.

I backed away and slapped his shoulder. “Your son is in the next room, you fiend.”

“Hasn’t exactly stopped you before. Remember the time Dilion and I were playing Wii, and you said you had a problem in the bathroom? If I recall, the problem was that my dick wasn’t inside you.”

“It was a problem. A very large and thick problem.” I winked. “What are we having for dinner, chef?”

“Stir-fry and rice.”

I reached for another pepper, stopped, and looked at Miles. “Oh God. That’s not that quinoa shit, is it?”

He laughed. “No, it’s regular white rice.”

“Oh, thank God! Quinoa is like eating gravel.”

I went to the cabinet and grabbed some plates to set the table. Being at Miles’s place felt like being home. As much as it sucked commuting into the city for work, it would be nice to actually live with the two boys I loved beyond words. It wasn’t the same as going home to an empty apartment and a vibrator that needed new batteries.

“I got a call from Ryan today. He’s invited us to a murder mystery getaway for Halloween weekend,” I said.

“He told me at the station today. I think it would be fun.”

“Seriously? How about instead of the getaway, I create my own mystery. I kidnap my obnoxious Girl Scout student Katie and have a trail of Thin Mints leading in different directions to throw people off.”

Katie had the perfect technique down for selling her Girl Scout cookies — blackmail. One might be surprised at how cunning a seven-year-old could be, but she knew what she was doing. One time I told her I wouldn’t buy any cookies, and her response was she would tell the other kids in class that I secretly ate chocolate behind my desk while they worked on their assignments. I’m convinced she is the child of the devil.

Miles looked up from the stir-fry. “It wouldn’t be a mystery, then. Everyone would know it’s you because of the trail of Thin Mint crumbs from your desk to the woods.”

Putting the final utensil on the table, I turned and put my hands on my hips. “Hey, murdering someone is hard work, and maybe I got hungry from exerting myself and nibbled on a couple of cookies.”

“Anyway, you can’t do it unless you want the entire Girl Scout troop coming after you with pitchforks and torches,” he added, taking a fork from the drawer and poking me lightly with it.

I started laughing. “I can see it now. They will lower Katie’s casket into the ground while singing “Kumbaya,” and instead of throwing flowers into the grave, they would throw assorted cookies.”

“As long as we get conjugal visits while you’re in jail for murder, I’m all good with the plan.”

“I’ll have to clear it with my prison wife. I don’t want to cheat on those bitches or else I’ll get shanked in the middle of the night.”

Dilion came into the kitchen holding a hand written sign which said: Will not eat vegetables. Hunger Strike in progress.

“Sticking it to the man again I see,” I said, pumping my fist in the air to show him my alliance.

“Dad buys stuff with GMOs in them, and I demand all organic vegetables and other products in this house.”

I looked to Miles. “Why can’t this kid be dumb as rocks and make fart jokes like other kids his age?”

“Because he insists on watching the Nightly News with Brian Williams instead of depleting his brain cells watching SpongeBob SquarePants.”

Dilion and I sat at the table while Miles brought over the stir-fry and rice from the stove. I loved it when we all ate together. It was a peaceful time where we shared the daily happenings of our lives. This meal was so unlike when I grew up. My stepmother would measure out my portions of food while my dad took his plate and eat in front of the television. Apparently Wheel of Fortune took precedent in our house.

“So, Dilion, any thoughts on what you’re going to be for Halloween this year?” Hoping he would choose something others understood. I heard last year he had to explain his Alexander Graham Bell costume to every house he went to.

“I was thinking either Gandhi or some other Nobel Prize winner.”

“What, Spiderman and Darth Vader costumes out of stock?” I asked.

“Everyone dresses up as those guys. I want to be something different.”

“But you’ll have to explain what you are to every house you go to.”

“No, I’ll just tell them I’ll break their knee caps if they don’t give me candy like you taught me.”

Miles froze with a fork full of stir fry and his eyes shifted to me. I gave him a cat-swallowed-the-carney smile.

“Kelly will have to take you trick-or-treating this year because Moxie and I are going away.”

“Yay! Aunt Kelly is awesome, and she lets me stay up late. Where are you guys going?” Dilion shot out of his seating and started bouncing up and down while clapping. I was a little disappointed he didn’t want Miles and I to take him. I wanted to see him dressed up and collecting candy from neighbors. Then I might have snuck some candy out of his bag when he wasn’t looking.

“We’ve been invited to a haunted mystery weekend,” Miles said.

“Aww man! I want to go to that.”

“Trust me, Dilion. If I could give you my spot, I would. But I don’t think you’ll look good in a red wig, and we would have to stuff pillows in your pants to make it look like you have my same butt,” I added.

“I’ve heard Dad say your butt looks bootylicious, whatever that means. Do you guys get to dress up?” Dilion asked.

“We all get parts to play for the weekend. So I think we have a dress up like our characters would dress,” Miles answered.

I raised my glass. “Well, here’s to hoping I get to play the school tramp.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Miles smiled as he clinked his glass with mine.

It was the Friday before Halloween weekend and our getaway. But first, I had to survive the Halloween party at school with my students. Every Halloween the Girl Scouts put on a spooky carnival for the students and teachers to enjoy. The only thing spooky about this carnival was Mrs. Simmons, Katie’s mom. She was the head troop leader at the school and the PTO president which meant the Girl Scouts where taking over the school much like when the Nazis took over Germany. Trust me, there isn’t much of a difference between the two.

Mrs. Simmons was like Martha Stewart on speed. She was always perfectly dressed with her blond hair tied up in a twisty bun. Her makeup was flawless, her teeth were impeccably white, and she wore a rock the size of Russia on her wedding finger. Her husband did something with hedge funds or hedgehogs or something of that nature. Whatever the case, Mrs. Simmons had a lot of extra time on her hands to make my life a nightmare.

If matters weren’t bad enough, students and staff had to dress up for the event. Since I couldn’t put the dirty devil costume I wore for Miles to use, I came up with something family friendly. As a special nod to our classroom pet, Chloe, I decided to dress up as a bunny. It also helped that it was a low-cost costume, and I could use it again with a bow tie and be a Playboy bunny for Miles at another time. I wore a pink long sleeve shirt, bunny ears, and pink yoga pants with a puffy tail pinned to my ass.