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Safely ensconced in her sheets, Gilda was actually thinking about Liv at the moment. However, if Liv knew, she would hardly be flattered. Gilda was thinking of sucking Major off while Liv was there, maybe inside Max Rager’s zombie containment unit, watching while Gilda deprived her of brain in all kinds of ways.

It was a pretty sick fantasy, she’d admit, but having Vaughn Du Clark as her daddy, she was pretty sure she’d been screwed from birth. Might as well embrace the Chaotic Evil.

Then she felt her blankets move, something soft and feminine joining her in the warmth of her comforter. A gentle hand reached down and took hold of her wrist, Gilda more amused than anything else as her wet fingers were pulled away from her cunt.

“That,” Liv said, “seems like it should be getting old by now.”

“Want me to put on my chastity belt?” Gilda shot back, smirking.

“Oh, definitely not,” Liv said, and was gratified to see Gilda’s jaw fall slightly as her fingers started playing with Gilda’s arousal. “But I do myself with the massaging showerhead, you diddle yourself under the covers… maybe we should pool our resources. For the sake of variety.”

“And how much variety can you provide?” Gilda rasped hotly.

She felt something rub against her face. A length of nylon cord, held in Liv’s other hand. “Turn over,” Liv commanded softly. “Lie face down on the bed. Spread eagle, Gilda.”