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Part 7

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She was stretched out on the couch, her feet in his lap.

"You are the master of pizza ordering, Joshua," she said softly.

"I am the master of many things, Donatella."

"Like beer buying. You are the master of beer buying, too," she agreed, her eyes half closed.

"Anything else?" he prodded, stilling his hands on her feet.

She groaned. "You can be the master of whatever you want—just keep rubbing," she begged, bouncing her feet on his lap lightly.

Josh chuckled and took a swig of his beer before resume his assault on Donna's feet. "Master of whatever I want, huh? That could be trouble for you, Donna."

"Don't care," she said, moaning lightly as he hit a particularly tense spot on her foot.

"That's a fun sound," he teased, pushing harder on the spot, trying to work the knot from her muscles. "Wonder if I can do that again."

She arched slightly off the couch as she moaned as second time. "God, Josh. You're so the man right now."

"Is this really what it takes for you to call me the man?"

"Yes." She wiggled her toes at him. "More."

He pulled his fingertips over the soles of her feet, causing her to pull her feet away quickly.

She opened one eye and glared at him. "Be nice."

"I am being nice. I'm the master of nice. As well as the master of pizza, beer, and foot rubs, remember? Master of whatever I want."

"Tickling is not nice."

"Neither is being a tease."

"I am not a tease!"

"All the arching and moaning?!"

"One arch, Joshua. One!"

"More than enough to be considered a tease!"

She sat up and quickly tucked her feet under her. "Fine. You're done now."

"I am?" he asked, shifting towards her in a very predatory move.

"You so are," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Donna," he whined.

The shrill ring of her phone interrupted their playful flirting.

"You're definitely done for now, Josh," she said as she grabbed the phone.

He leaned forward and kissed her neck with tiny exploratory kisses.

She swatted him away. "Hi mom…."

Josh took his cue and began cleaning up the pizza box and empty beer bottles.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I missed you guys, too…yeah, maybe I can come next year- it depends on what I end up doing for Russell when he wins."

Donna ducked the dishtowel Josh chucked at her from the kitchen.

"Hmm? Oh- um- I-" she stuttered and her face blanched well past her normal alabaster skin-tone.

She covered her face with her hands. "Ok, mom. Yeah… Ok… Talk to you soon."

Donna disconnected the phone with a flick of her thumb and continued to hide her face with her free hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning against the door jamb of the kitchen.

"Josh, are you sure you packed everything when we left my parents?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"That was my mother," Donna said, "She wants to know why there are men's boxers on the sofa."

"Ok. So it looks like I missed some things."

Donna chuckled. "And you're invited to Christmas at Grandma's next year," she said. "Mom says you can have your underwear back then."

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Fin