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lean, but he was covered in muscle. His shoulders were much broader than his hips. And there were muscles on his hips that were…well, mercy, they were sin itself, pointing right to a magnificent...dick didn’t seem like enough of a word for what he had. Cock. She liked that better. Boys had dicks, she decided right then and there. Hoosier had a cock. The best one she’d ever seen, in person or otherwise.
     
    The curtain had wrapped them up together, closing them into a pink cone, and the world seemed to fall away.
     
    His hands rested on her shoulders and then swept down her arms, and she looked up from her examination of his body to find him smiling down at her. “I like to look at you, too. You are a fine, fine young Southern belle, Miss Bibi. Without all that circus makeup on, you are beautiful as any woman I’ve known.”
     
    She liked the compliment, but she still felt some umbrage at his critique of her style. “Why’d you even talk to me if the way I looked disgusted you so?”
     
    He shook his head. “It didn’t disgust me. But it doesn’t suit you. Maybe it’s why I noticed you. You didn’t seem like you fit in last night.”
     
    She took more umbrage at that. “Fuck you. That’s my scene.”
     
    A skeptical eyebrow came up, but he didn’t push the point. “Sorry. I’m just saying you stood out from that crowd. And then I saw you tie that cherry stem and tease the bartender, and I wanted to know you.”
     
    “Why? Because I’m a tease?”
     
    “No, because you’re a smartass. But a sweet one. And you’re beautiful. Made me curious.”
     
    “You don’t have some kind of Pygmalion fetish, do ya?”
     
    “No. I’m not the kind of guy who wants to fix anybody or make them be somebody they’re not. I am the kind of guy who likes people who don’t run with the crowd, though.”
     
    Frankly, Bibi’s knees had gone weak at the fact that he’d known Pygmalion . She had intentionally used the name of the play instead of My Fair Lady , because she wanted to feel a little superior to this man, and she hadn’t expected a biker to know a George Bernard Shaw play. But he had.
     
    He smoothed a hand over her wet-slick hair. “You ever fucked in a shower before?”
     
    She shook her head, lost in his smile, lost in his dark, lively eyes, now lost in his mind, too. Just lost. She was lost.
     
    Having that thought, Bibi knew it was true. Oh, hell.
     
    He bent his head and kissed her, turning them both out of the way of the hot shower spray. With his lips still brushing over hers, he murmured, “I want to fuck you here in this shitty shower. I’ll pick you up and put you on the wall, and I’ll fill you so full your eyes’ll bulge. Then I want to hear those sex sounds you made last night bouncing off these tile walls. I want to sink my fingers into your sweet ass and hold you tight while I fill you and fill you and fill you until you bite down into my shoulder again and scream.”
     
    “Holy Moses,” she whispered.
     
    He laughed and picked her up.

    FOUR
     
     
    Way down yonder, in the meadow,
There’s a poor wee little lamby.
The bees and the butterflies pickin’ at its eyes,
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy.

Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry,
Go to sleep little baby.
When you wake, you shall have
All the pretty little horses.
     
    While Bibi hovered over her crib, singing her to sleep, Lana sighed and rolled to her belly, hooking a chubby arm around the pink stuffed unicorn she always kept close.
     
    She was such a pretty baby, almost ten months old now. Her flaxen hair was coming in with a soft curl, and Bibi reached into the crib and, very gently, let some of those curls circle her fingertips.
     
    “Those are different words than the ones I know,” Faith said, quietly, standing at the open door. “They’re a little dark, aren’t they?”
     
    Bibi smiled over her shoulder at her. “My mama used to sing it to me. Even when I was older, she’d sing it when I