And for that she had Winona to thank. And Frieda. And Rosemary. And, yes, Tucker Daniels. Definitely Tucker. He more than anyone had woken her body, stirred it into life, spurred her into seeking out what she’d been missing.

She’d thank him the next time she saw him, she decided as a wave of overwhelming malaise mixed with the tangle of her emotions and she drifted to sleep.

Half an hour later, Della woke to a massive thunderclap. The room danced with candlelight as she sat up, temporarily disoriented. Her hand came to rest on a cylindrical object in her bed, and it all came flooding back. A huge grin split her face, and Della fell back against the mattress, stretching languorously.

She’d had an orgasm, and, glancing at the rabbit standing taut and ready on her bedside table…she was about to have another.

Stripping off her pajamas, she reached for the cactus-shaped device and its remote. Flicking it on at the bottom, she watched for long fascinated seconds as the head of the vibrator rotated. It was hard to believe that would feel sexy, but it had been given a resounding thumbs-up by multiple women at Frieda’s today, and she’d be an idiot to ignore that kind of market research.

Switching it off, she lay down and got to work. She was still so crazily aroused the rabbit slid in with no problems, it just took a little squirming to get it anatomically correct both internally and externally. But as soon as those ears slid properly against her clitoris, it was like glories streamed from heaven. A whimper slid from her throat, and Della sucked in a breath as she took a moment to just appreciate the feeling.

Oh yeah…the eagle (or the bunny, as the case may be) had landed.

Assessing the remote control for a second or two, she turned on both the internal and external motors. The control dropped from her fingers as everything pulled taut, and her eyes practically rolled back in her head.

This orgasm took an even shorter time.

Had she been more sexually educated and a dude, she might have started to worry about her staying power. But she was neither, so she let it lift her up and spin her around and tumble her over and over and over, thinking about Tucker touching her and kissing her until she was gasping and crying out his name until she was utterly, utterly spent.

And she’d only put it on level one.

Della woke an hour later, and this time she wasn’t remotely disoriented. The rain was still heavy on the roof and against the window, and the candles were still burning, and with the rabbit still inside her, everything came back in full, wonderful Technicolor. Wow. She must have fallen asleep as soon as she’d climaxed. Who knew this coming business was so damn exhausting?