Never Give Your Heart To A Hookup (Never Say Never Book 2)

NEVERGIVEYOURHEARTTOAHOOKUPLAURENLANDISHEDITEDBYVALORIECLIFTONEDITEDBYSTACIETHERIDGECONTENTS
AlsobyLaurenLandish
1.Samantha
2.Samantha
3.Chance
4.Samantha
5.Chance
6.Samantha
7.Chance
8.Samantha
9.Samantha
10.Chance
11.Samantha
12.Chance
13.Chance
14.Samantha
15.Samantha
16.Chance
17.Samantha
18.Chance
19.Samantha
20.Chance
21.Samantha
22.Chance
23.Samantha
24.Chance
25.Samantha
26.Samantha
27.Chance
28.Chance
29.Samantha
Epilogue
AbouttheAuthorALSOBYLAURENLANDISH
BigFatFakeSeries:
MyBigFatFakeWedding||MyBigFatFakeEngagement||MyBigFatFakeHoneymoon
Standalones:
TheFrenchKiss||OneDayFiance||DropDeadGorgeous||TheBlindDate||RiskyBusiness
TruthOrDare:
TheDare||TheTruth
BennettBoysRanch:
BuckWild||RidingHard||RacingHearts
TheTannenBoys:
RoughLove||RoughEdge||RoughCountry
DirtyFairyTales:
BeautyandtheBillionaire||NotSoPrinceCharming||HappilyNeverAfter
PushingBoundaries:
DirtyTalk||DirtyLaundry||DirtyDeeds||DirtySecretsCHAPTER1SAMANTHA
“So,IonlyneedtosellfiftydildostobecomeaGoldStarrepresentativeofBedroomHeaven?”Theyoungblondegirlseveralseatsdownfrommeasksthequestionwithacompletelystraightface,makingitsoundlikethatshouldbearidiculouslyeasythingtodo.
Ofcourse,shedidsaythatshe’stheentertainmentchairforheron-campussorority,somaybeTrixleighcanslamoutthatmanysalesinherlivingroomundertheguiseofabuzzygoodnightsocial.Icanseeitnow…Trixleigh’sTricksandTreats.Maybewitha‘XXX’substitutedinforgoodmeasure.
BecauseofcoursehernameisTrixleigh,whichshespelledforuscheerleader-stylewithabonusofmentioningshe’sdefinitely‘notforkids’likethecereal,endingwithatee-heelaughI’msureshedoeseverytimesheintroducesherselfwiththebunnyearfingersshepoppedtothetopofherhead.
Butwhileshemightnotthinkherquestionisthatoutthere,myheadwhipsaroundsofastIlooklikethepossessedchickfromTheExorcist,onlytoseeJaxxReynolds,thedark-hairedgirlingothmakeupsittingnexttome,coverhermouthandgiggle,alongwithseveralothergirlsaroundtheroom.Jaxxistheonewhogotmeintothis.
Thisbeingapseudo-businesspresentationwithahealthydoseofsexualinnuendobeingledbyasuburbanmomwho’scurrentlystandinginthemiddleofherlivingroomwieldingabuttplugbigenoughtomakeKingKongcringe.
PleasetellmewhyI’mdoingthisagain?Iaskmyselffortheumpteenthtime.Butthetruthis,Ialreadyknowtheanswer.Ineedthedamnmoney.
I’mburiedunderamountainofstudentloandebt,andwiththeinterestratesbeingskyhigh,I’llbebattlingwiththatmountainwellintothenextcoupleofdecades.
Andwithonlyonesemesterleftinmygraduateprogram,I’mlookingdownthebarrelofthedaythoseloanpaymentsaregoingtocomedue,rightasI’mtryingtofigureoutmypost-collegeplans.ButI’mlikemostpeople,andatsomepointinmylife,I’dliketobeabletoaffordluxurieslikeahouseoradecentcar…orcheeseonasandwich.
Soyouknowwhattheysay,desperatetimescallfordesperatemeasures.ThoughIneverdreamedit’dmeansellingbig,fatcocksfromthetrunkofmycar
Anudgeinmysidebreaksmeoutofmyreverie,andIblinktorefocusonJaxx,whohasadevioussmirkonherface.Iwonderhowmanydildosshe’ssold.Ormaybeshestickstoleatherrestraints?Ofcourse,withherstyle,shecouldsellthoseasfashionaccessories.
Itakeacloserlookatthecuffbraceletshe’scurrentlywearing,notingthesilverloopsthatcoulddefinitelybeusedforrestraintpurposes.It’spairedwithblackfishnetstockings,blackshorts,andablackrockbandshirtthat’sbeenrough-cutatthebellybutton.
Itcouldbeaharsh,off-puttinglook,butonher,it’senchanting,andthedryhumorshestoicallyspewsmakesherallthemorebewitching.Somemightsayshe’sinspiredbyWednesdayAddams,butthetruthis,IthinkJennaOrtegamight’vedoneasecretcharacterstudyonJaxx.
ItwasJaxxwhogotmetogrudginglyagreetotryoutbeingasextoyrepforextracashtohelppaythebills.She’salreadybeendoingitformonthsandswearsit’seasymoney,anditdoesmakesomesenseformetohavesexualaidsinmyrepertoireformyfuturepracticeasalicensedtherapistfocusingonintimaterelationships.Somepeoplecallita‘sextherapist’,butit’ssomuchmorethanthat.
Thenagain,Jaxx’sAuntKaradoesn’texactlylookliketheprofessionalbusinesswomanIaspiretobeconsideringshe’snowholdingupadildothat’sswirlinginacirclewhilevibratingintenselyenoughtomaketherabbitearsononesideofitfloparoundwildly.
“That’sright,Trixleigh.Fiftyunitsandyou’llbeGold,andthenthesky’sthelimit.Thesebabiesvirtuallysellthemselves.”
Trixleighsquealsandgoesbacktolookingatthecataloginherhands,pausingforanunreasonablylongtimeonadouble-ended,rainbow-striped,unicorn-horn-ribbeddildocalledTheHappiestRide.
Jaxxwhispers,“Gother.”Shelicksablack-paintedfingertipanddrawsatallymarkintheair.
Karasmiles,likelythinkingthesamething.Tohelpsellmeontheideaofthissidegig,Jaxxtoldmethestoryofhowheraunthadbeenonthevergeofaforeclosureafterherhairsalonburneddownandherinsurancerefusedtopayforthedamage,citingacoldtechnicalitythatleftthemnotfiscallyresponsibleforhelpingherrecoverfromtheaccident.
Desperateandnotknowingwhattodo,Karahadturnedtobecomingasalesrepresentativeforanadultcompanysellingsextoysoutofherlivingroom.
Now,afterthreeyearsofthrowingpartiesforBedroomHeavenandrecruitingwomentoworkunderher,she’sflourishing.AccordingtoJaxx,herauntisdebt-free,livinginanewhome,andnolongerdoinghairbecausehertoybusinesskeepshersobusy.
Ihavenointentionsofbecomingthenextvibratormogul,butlookingatKara’shomeandthestress-freesmileonherface,Ihavetoadmit,shedoesseemtobedoingwell.Financially,andIassume,orgasmically.
“You’llgetusedtoit,”Jaxxsays,herdarkeyebrowarchedsohighinamusementatruckcouldpassunderit.“What’sthesaying?Lifeislikeabagofdicks.You’realwaysgonnagetfucked,youjustneverknowhowhard.Orinwhathole.Orholes,asthecasemaybe.”Shetiltsherheadasthoughconsidering…orcounting.
IcanonlyshakemyheadasIwhisper,“ThatisNOTthesaying.”
BeforeJaxxcanrespondwithanotherstoicretort,Karalaughs,merrilyholdingupfourmorevibratingdildos,twoineachhand,whichlooksevenmoreobscenethanitsounds.SheaddressesTrixleigh,“Yougotit!Themoredicks,themerrier!Whitedick,blackdick,browndick,purpledick!Bigdick,smalldick,ribbeddick,vibratingdick!”
Assheexclaims,hereyesdancearoundtheroomtotheotherwomen,remindingmeofthesceneinFromDusk‘TillDawnwherethemanoutsidethewhorehousescreamsabouthowthere’severyflavorofpussyinside.“Getthemallsold!Happycustomersarerepeatcustomers.Wewantthemcoming,andcoming,andcomingagain.”
CrazinesshastoruninJaxx’sfamily.Ilaughtomyself,watchingasKaraanimatedlyanswersquestionsfromaroundtheroom.She’sinherlateforties,wearsherlong,platinumblondehairinbeachywaves,andhasperfectlyappliedmakeupaccentedwithexpertlytattooedbrowsandlashextensions.
Shetalkswithherhands,clickingherlongacrylicnailstogethertoemphasizewordsandmakingherringsandbraceletsjingleastheymove.Hercigarette-slimtrousersshowcaseherass,andthoughshehasonasimplewhiteT-shirt,I’dguessit’sanattemptatappearingapproachablebecausethecottonisqualityinthatsubtlewaythatspeakstomoney,andlotsofit.
Allinall,shelooksremarkably…normal.Exceptthatshe’snowseriouslydiscussingtheprosandconsofvibratingversussuckingclitmassagers.
Onsecondthought,maybethiswholeideaisn’tsocrazy.I’velearnedinmyclassesandpracticegroupshowimportantitistobeunflappablewhenpatientssayordoanynumberofseeminglyoddthings,somaybeIcanlearnsomethingfromKaratoaddtomyskillsasatherapist.
Andgetafewstress-relievingorgasmsoutofthedealmyselfbecauseIintendonbeingmyownfirstcustomer.Afterall,Ican’tpromotewhatIdon’tbelievein.
“So,who’sourtargetaudience?”Iaskforeveryonetohear.
Karaturnsandsmiles,sensingshe’sgotmetoo.“Everyone.ButIwanttotargetcollege-agecustomers…likeyou.”
“Really?Ithought—”
“Thatourcustomerswouldbemostlydick-starved,middle-agedhornyhousewiveslikeme?”Karafinishesformewithatoothybleached-whitesmile.
“Oh,no,”Ibegintosay,shakingmyhead.“Ididn’tmeanitlikethat—”
Karacutsmeoffanddismissesmewithawaveofherhand.“Honestly,honey,nooffensetaken.Firstruleofsales—startwithwhatyouknow.Ihaveanentirelegofmyteammadeupwithwomenwho’veseenit,doneit,andbeenlargelydisappointedbyit.We’vegotnoshameinourgameaboutgettingwhatweknowwelikeorexploringtofigurethatout.”
Sheliftsabrow,daringmetohaveaproblemwiththat.WhichIdon’t…atall.Isupporthealthysexualexplorationatallages.AndI’vedonealotoflearningaboutwhatisandisn’thealthysexuality,bothfrombooksandmyownresearch.
SowhenIstaysilent,shecontinues,speakingtotheroomatlargeoncemore,“Butit’stimeforbusinesstogrow,andthat’swhereyoucomein.Youngerwomenneedthatsameempowermenttoexplore,learntheirwantsandneeds,andsatisfythem.Andthoughyou’reallhere,byandlarge,theydon’twanttotalktotheirmoms“—Karaflipsherhairoverhershoulderwithasassysmirk—“ortheircoolauntabouttheirsexlives.Theywanttotalktotheirgirlfriends…theirpeers…theirfriends.Theywanttotalktoyouandbecomeyourcustomer.”
Jaxxleansoverandsummarizes,“Freshblood.”
“Ijustdon’tknow,”ImurmurtoJaxxasKaracontinuestogoaroundtheroom,easilyswitchingfromsellingproducttosellingtheopportunityofbecomingaBedroomHeavenrepresentative.“There’snotagirlIknowwhohasaproblemgettingarealdick.”
DisgustcurlsJaxx’sblack-paintedlips.“Areyouserious?That’sevenmorereason.Guysouragesuck,especiallyfratboys.Haveyouseentheminaction?Threeminutes,blowtheirload,couldn’tpleaseagirliftheirlifedependedonit.”
Shesoundsmorethanalittlebitbitter,andIwonderifJaxxhasfirst-handknowledgeaboutaparticularfratboyoncampus.“Theydon’tevenwashproperly.HaveyouseenthatnurseladyonTikToktalkabouthowguyscomeinandwhentheygetupfromtheexamtable,there’saskidmark?Ugh…can’tevenwipetheirassorgivethemselvesascrub,theycertainlycan’tcomenearmysensitive—andclean—penisflytrap.”
Hervehemence,andrareanimation,issurprising.She’srightaboutonething,though.I’veunfortunatelyhadacoupleofregretswithguyswhothoughtthatgoingdownonmewasasimpossibleashellfreezingover.
Iconsiderthoseencounterslessonslearned,though,thestepsthatgotmetowhereIamnow—comfortableinmyownbody,awareofwhatIneed,andwillingtoexploreundertherightcircumstances.
ButIknowthat’srare.Morecommonisasenseofshamewheresexisconcerned,orwomenwhoarepeoplepleaserstakingthatmindsetintothebedroom,orworstofall,womenwho’vebeenbrainwashedintothinkingthatporn-type,overlydramaticactingisrealandwhatthey’resupposedtoenjoy.
SoIguessJaxxhasapoint.
Forthenexthalfhour,Karagoesdownalistofproductsfromthecatalog,holdingupeachonefromherdisplaytable.IwatchwithraptfascinationasIseesextoysthatI’veheardaboutbeforeandsomeIhaven’t,whichisactuallyaprettyrarethingconsideringmystudies.
Somelookoversized,orstudded,orliketorturedevicesthataredesignedtohurt,whichincidentally,Jaxxloves.Otherslookmorefriendlyandcute,likelittleroundballsandcolorfuleggsthatvibrate.
TheroomoohsandahhsasKaragivesdemonstrationsofsomeofthedevices,explaininghowtheyworkandhowthey’rebestused.
I’mhavingsuchagoodtimelearningallthesenewgadgetsthatbeforeIknowit,thebusinessaspectisallbutforgotten.ExcepttoKara,whoknowsshe’sgotusallrightwhereshewantsus.
SheremindsusabouttherulesandexpectationsofbeingaBedroomHeavenrepresentative,finishingwiththeprizesatstakeforbeingatopseller.
“Soifyousell100BedroomHeavengiftboxes,you’llbeeligiblefora$2,000bonus,”shetellstheroomsodramaticallyshemightaswellbedanglingacarrot-shapeddildooverus.Whichthecompanysells,inacheekyappealtovegans.Everyone’seyeslightup,andgirlsbeginexcitedlychatteringamongeachother.
Trixleighnarrowsshrewdeyesontherestoftheroom,warning,“ThegirlsofGammaLambdaKappaaremine.Don’tmesswithme.”
I’dlaugh,but2,000dollars?That’sworthabitofdirtyplayandunderstandablepossessivenessofpotentialcustomers.
2,000dollars?Ithinktomyself,quicklydoingthemathinmyhead.OntopofthemoneyImakeoffeachindividualsale,thatwouldbequitethehaul.Thequestionis,howmanydickscanIsell?
EventhoughI’mprettyoutgoing,Istillcan’tseemyselfgoingtomycollegebuddiesandaskingthem,“So…interestedinbuyingabigvibratingweenie,andmaybecomboitupwithsomestrawberryflavoredlubeforwhenyou’regettingtherealthing?”
“Butthere’sacaveatforyouladieswhoarejustjoininginwithus,”Karasays,raisingamanicuredfinger,silencingeveryonearoundtheroom.“We’reattheendofthesalesquarter,andtoqualifyforanybonus,youhavetoselltheminimumamountduringthecurrentquarter.”
“Howmuchtimedowehaveleft?”Iask.Deadlinesareimportant.Andmotivational.
Karalicksherfingerandpressesittohercurvyderriere,makingahissingsound.“Putafireunderyourbooty,ladies.BedroomHeaven’squarterlypartyisintwoweekstobeeligible!Youneedtosellatleast100giftboxesintwoweeks,sogettogetting!”
Asenseofurgencysweepsthroughtheroom,exactlyassheintended,andshepointstoatablewherealargestackoffolderswithembossedlogossit,readyforus.
“Also,forthoseofyouwhoarenew,ifyou’vedecidedyouwanttorepresentBedroomHeaven,you’regonnaneedtosignacontractthatincludesthepercentageyou’llmakefromeverysale,whatyoucanandcan’tdoasarepresentative,andanironcladNDAagreement.I’dadviseyoutolookoveritverycarefully.Ifyouneedhelpreadingandunderstandingit,meormyniece,Jaxx,wouldbehappytohelp.”
“Twoweeks,”Imutterastheroombeginschatteringagainexcitedly,crowdingaroundthecontracttable.“GuessIwon’thaveachanceatthatbonus.”
Imeanforittobequiet,justtokeepmyselffromgettingmyhopesupliketheotherwomenalreadyspendingthebonusonvariousthingsfromschooltuitiontorent.
“Nonsense,”Karasays,grabbingafolderoffthetopforme.“I’llhelpyoulookoverthecontract.There’sreallynothingtoit,justtheusualtocovertheirbases.Andasfarasmakingasalesgoal,you’llhavemetohelpyou,andIcansellicetoapolarbear.Justfollowmylead,andyou’llbeaGoldStarsellerinnotime.”Shechucksmeintheelbowandwinksatme.“Nowgrababagofdicks,andgetoutthereandstartmakingsomemoney.”
Ithinkit’sthefirsttimeI’veeverheardtheterm‘bagofdicks’usedinapositivelight.CHAPTER2SAMANTHA
“CanItalkaboutsomething?”Iaskslowly,notsureIwanttodothis.Isitbackonmyyogamatandlookatmystudygroupbuddies.Sara,Katie,Natasha,andDaphnearealsosittingonmatsintherecroomweuseforourstudysessions.
They’realsopsychologygraduatestudents,butourfuturefocusesareasdifferentasweare.Katiehasplansforfamilycounseling,Natashaforbehavioraltherapy.SaraspecializesinPTSD,andDaphnehopestobeaschooltherapist.Somehow,ourdifferenceshaveneverheldusbackfrompracticingalittletherapywitheachother,thoughwetendtodriftoff-topicandrantmorethanisstandardinprofessionalsessions.That’swhatmakesusfriends,notjustcolleagues.
“Ofcourse,”Katieanswers,centeringherfullattentiononme.Herbrightblueeyessoften,andshepushesherblondehaloofcurlsbehindherears.“What’sup,buttercup?”Asthewordsleavehermouth,shewinces.Thegreetingisaverbalhabitshe’stryingtobreakafteraprofessortoldheritsoundedflippant,butalifetimeofsayingithasn’tmadeiteasy.
“Imean,what’sonyourmind?”
Ismileathercorrectionandpseudo-neutraltone,whichmakeshersoundlikeatelevisionversionofatherapist.“Ihaveafriendwhoinvitedmetoaparty.Well,notaparty,exactly,morelikeanopportunity.ButI’mnotsureifit’srightforme.It’s…”Itrailoff,notsurehowtodescribeBedroomHeaven.
“Didyougettrickedintoacult?”Natashaquips.Shelaughsattheabsurdity,butshe’smaybenotthatfaroff.Atmyheadtiltofuncertainty,shespinsherdenim-cladlegsaround,sittingbackonherheels.“Telluseverything.Isitareligiousthing?Endoftheworld?Sexclub?”
Despiteworkingonmyblankface,ImusthaveatellbecauseDaphne’sinterestpiques.“Sexclub?Forreal?CanIgetaninvitetoo?”
Ishakemyheadatthesuddenraptattentionallfourwomengiveme.MaybeKaraisrightandsexiswhatsells,evenifit’sjustthepromiseofbettersex.
Idivein,explainingaboutBedroomHeavenandmyworriesaboutitsimplications,bothpositiveandnegative,inmyfutureasanintimacytherapist.“I’velookedthroughthecontractwithBedroomHeavenandourcodeofconductforthepsychologyprogrambackwardandforwardandeverywayinbetween.I’mintheclear,butamIcrazyforconsideringthis?”
Sara,who’sbeensilentthewholetime,finallyspeaks.“You’vedoneyourduediligence,alreadyknowwhatyou’regoingtodo,anddon’tneedourpermissiontodoit.”
Shedipsherchin,makingsureIheardherloudandclear.Ofallofus,she’sthemostnaturallygiftedattherapy,butthatskillhascomeataprice.She’sbeenintherapyherselfsinceshewasakidafteratraumaticchildhoodthatwasonlymadeworsebytherapistswhodidn’tknowwhattheyweredoing.Shenowwearsthosescarsinsideandoutside,whichiswhyshewantstospecializeinhelpingpeoplewithPTSD.
“Thanks,”Itellher,recognizingthatshe’sonehundredpercentright.
Katieholdsherhandup.“Onequestion…”Ilookherway,andshegrinswidely,lookingmuchlessangelicthanusual.“CanIseethatcatalog?Agirlneedsalittlevariety,andmyLittleBunnyFoo-Fooisonhislasthops.”
“Little.Bunny.Foo-Foo?”Daphneechoes.Sheshouldn’tjudgeconsideringshe’swalkingathinlineofbeingaDisneyadult,wearingvariouscharacterandparkshirtsalmostdaily.Infact,shehasonaThumperT-shirtrightnow,soit’sprobablyagoodthingKatiedidn’tnamehervibratorafterBambi’srabbityfriend.
“Metoo,”Natashaadds.“NottheFoo-Foopart,butthevariety.I’veswornoffmenforawhileaftermylastdate.”
Idigintomybag,pullingoutacoupleofthecatalogsJaxxgaveme.KatieandNatashacrowdaroundone,Daphnetakesanother,andSarausesherphonetosnaptheQRcodeonthefrontsoshecanshopprivatelyonline.
Natashacontinues,“DidItellyouaboutmydate?Rugbyplayer,hotashell,abletostringtogethermorethanthreewords,soI—”
“Tookhimhome,”Sarafinishes.“Youreallyneedhigherstandards.Youdeservemorethanthat.”
Notgivingashit,NatashaignoresSara’sadvice.“Wentwithhimbacktohisplace,”shecorrects,asifthatmakesadifference.“Itwasgoingwell,too—kissesinthelivingroom,pressedmeupagainstthewallinthehallway,thenintohisbedroom,wherehethrewmeonthebed.Iwasreadytogetmyworldrocked!”shesayswistfully.
“ButnoamountofusinghisearsashandlebarsandleadinghimstraighttoXmarksthespotworked.Iswear,henuttedinthreeminutes,climbedoff,andcollapsed.Imean,rugbyrequiressomeendurance,right?”Sherollshereyesandhuffs.“Apparentlynot.AndwhenIwenttothebathroom?”Shepantomimesgagging.“Itwasahazmatzone.Idon’tthinkit’deverbeencleaned,like,ever,whichmeanshewasthatdisgustingtoo.Can’tgetcleanamidfilth.Ileftwhilehewassnoring,andwhenIgotbacktomyplace,Iscrubbedeveryinchofmybody—andIdomeaneverysingleinchandorifice—andghostedhim.Notthathetexted,anyway.”
Shesoundsannoyedatthatlastbit,butweallknowthetruth…she’shurt.Sexisintimatebynature.Thatdoesn’tmeanitneedstobeallroses,sweetnothings,andpromisesofforever.Hell,itcanbearough,filthy,one-nightstandandstillbeintimate.Butifit’sadisappointingexperience,itstillhurtsonsomelevel.
Whichiswherehandlingthingsyourselfcomesin.
AtleastforNatasha,becauseshe’salreadyflaggedthreedifferentproducts.“Putmedownforthese,withwhateverSTATshippingIcanget.”
“Becauseyou’veswornoffmen,”Katieremindsher.
Bythetimeourgrouppseudo-sessionends,allfourwomenhaveorderedgiftboxes,andIfeelsignificantlybetteraboutmydecisiontobecomeaBedroomHeavenrepresentative.
***
Twoweekslater…
“IcannotbelieveI’vesoldalmosttwohundreddicks,”ImurmurtomyselfasIdrivedownthehighwayinmyrusty,yettrusty,NissanSentra.Shemightnotbethemoststylishtransportation,butshe’sdependableenoughtogetmewhereIneedtogo,andtoday,that’stotheGrandHotelfortheBedroomHeavenquarterlyparty.
Mostofmysaleshavebeenspecificitemsfromthecatalog,whichshipdirectlytothecustomerindiscreetpackaging.ButwithJaxx’shelp,I’malmostsoldoutofgiftboxes.IfIcanselljustafewmoreatthesalesportionofthequarterlyparty,Imightstillqualifyforthebonus.
IsendasilentprayeruptowhateversexgodislisteningthatthesalesflowasreadilyasthestrawberryflavoredlubethatBedroomHeaveniswidelyknownfor,becauseI’lladmitthatI’vegotplansforthatcash.Excitingthingslikerent,andmaybeanewvibratingtreatofmyown.
Iglanceintherearviewmirroratthestashofproductsinmybackseat,consideringwhichoneI’dliketotry.DefinitelynottheU-turn,whichisgirthyenoughtoconcernme,ortheDieselStroker,whichhasathrustmodewiththirtyspeedsandpatternsthatpromisestomatchorbebetterthananyhumanmalecouldbefromanyposition,butitcostsovertwohundreddollars.I’vegotasmallclitvibratorandabarebonesdildoalready,somaybesomethingabitmoreexcitingthatwon’tbreakthebank?
Toobadtherealthingisn’tanoption.
Ihaven’tdatedmuchrecently.Beingtoofocusedonschool,toodistractedbytryingtomakeendsmeet,andtooselectiveaboutpartnershasleftmealonemorenightsthanI’dliketoadmit.SoI’mgladmynewgighasthepotentialtomakethoselonelynightsalotmore‘fun’.
IpullintothelotoftheGrandHotel,drivingdownafewaislesbeforeIcanfindaparkingspot.TherearealotmorecarsherethanIexpected,whichmakesaspikeofnervesshootthroughmygut.Salesisn’tmybestskill,butlikeKarasaid,thepromiseofdeadFranklinsisenoughtogetmepumpedforthis.“Twelvegiftboxesandthatbonusisyours,Samantha.Youcandothis.”
I’mnotcrazyfortalkingtomyself.It’savalidself-pep-talkmethodthat’srecommendedbymanyprofessionals
RightasI’mabouttostepout,myphonerings.I’dignoreit,butIwanttomakesureit’snotJaxxwithsomelast-minuteinstructions,soIdigitoutofmypurse.
Mom.
Shit.Ihavetoanswer.
“Hey,Mom,I’mrunningintoa…uh,meeting.Everythingokay?”Ispitoutquickly.Idon’tknowwhyIdon’ttellMomaboutmyBedroomHeavenparty.She’sbeenacceptingofmyplanstobecomeanintimacytherapist,butthisfeelsdifferent.
I’msellingcocks,butdon’tworry,it’stotallyforthegreatergood!
Yeah,thatconversationisn’thappeningrightnow.
“Andhellotoyoutoo,honey,”sherepliesdryly.“Iwon’tkeepyou,butIwantedtoseeifyou’dhelpkeepaneyeonOliviatonight?”
Oliviaismyyoungersister.Atsixteen,shedoesn’tneedababysitter.Hell,sheisone.Butwhenlefttoherowndevices,shetendstorebelmorethansheshould,especiallyagainstMom’sridiculouslystrictruleslikenodrugs,drinking,orsneakingout.Actually,Iagreeonthefirsttwo,butthelastisnegotiable.Sometimes.ButMom’swildlyinvasiveideaslike‘tellmewhereyou’regoingandwhoyou’rewith’sendOliviaoffthedeependintosuper-sized,attitude-filledtiradesthatstressusallout.
“Uhm,I’llbeoutmostofthenight,”Ianswer,glancingatthehotelandthenthedashboardclock.Ireallyneedtogetinside.
“That’sfine.Justbeavailableifsheneedsrescue.”Underherbreath,Momsarcasticallyadds,“Orbailmoney.”
“Whereareyougoing?”
“Ihavea…Imean,I’vegot…”Iswear,shesoundslikeagigglyschoolgirl,unsureofwhattosay,whichisnothinglikemymother.SusanReddingspeakshermind,whetheryouwanttohearitornot,runsherfamilylikeawell-oiledmachine,andworksherassoff.I’mproudtosaythatshepassedthosetraitsontomeinspades.
Finally,shesighsandadmits,“I’mgoingonadate.Anovernightone.”
“Mom!”Ishriekinsurprise.“Withwhom?”
Myparentsdivorcedyearsago,andI’veencouragedhertodiphertoesintothedatingworldagain.Butthoughthetwenty-somethingpoolisfullofunwashed,unmotivatedfratboys,theover-fortypoolissomehowevenworse,withmenwhowanttobeworshipedbyyoung,impressionablewomentheycancontrolorwhoarecheatingontheirwives,whichiswhatDaddid.Thoughhedidendupmarryinghismistress,who’sonlyafewyearsolderthanme.
Momstoodbyus,though,helpingmegettocollegewhenDadsaidhecouldn’tafforditbecausehewasbuyinganewplace,andtakingcareofOliviaevenwhen,filledwithhurtandanger,shetoldMomthatDadwouldn’thaveleftifshe’dtriedhardertomakehimhappy.ThatledtoalotofsisterlyconversationswhereItoldherthatsheneededtogrowthehellupandquitblamingMomforDad’sfailures.
“AmanI’vebeenseeingforabitnow.Hisname’sMarvin,andhe’sadaytrader.Hiswifepassedawayseveralyearsago,andhe’sbeenfocusedonraisinghisson,who’sseventeennow.HeunderstandssomeofthedifficultiesI’vehadwithOlivia,andwejustclick.Hemakesmelaughandfeelhopeful.”
MomsoundshappierthanI’veheardherinages,andIhavetolookupattheheadlinerofmycarandreleaseaslowbreathtofightbacktears.
“Mom!I’msohappyforyou,butdoweneedtohavethesextalkagain?”Itease.“It’snotallfreelovelikewhenyouwereyoung.Remember,‘Safe,Sane,andConsensual’isthecatchphrasenow.”
Shescoffs.“I’mnotthatold,Samantha.Iwasn’tevenborninthesixtiesforthefreelovedays.AndI’mtheonewhotaughtyouaboutcondoms,STIs,andwhattowatchfor.Speakingof,areyoutestingregularly?”
Errrrk!Ipumpthebrakesonthiswholeconversation.“Nope,notdiscussingmysexlifewithyou.Notnow,notever.”
Icanalmosthearhersmileathavingredirectedourtalkawayfromherowndateandtonight’sactivities.“Okay,butI’mhereifyouneedme.”
“Thanks.Youtoo,Mom.Anddon’tworry,I’vegotOliviatonightsoyoucangetyourfreakonwithMaaaarvin,”Idrawlouttheatrically.“ThoughI’mnotsureyoucanmoanthatnameinasexyway.Youmightneedanicknameforhim.”
“I’vegotone,butyou’dbesurprisedhowsexyhearingyournamefromyourlover’slipscanbe,nomatterwhatitis,”shesayswisely.Andmaturesoon-to-betherapistthatIam,Istickmytongueout,gaggingsilentlyattheideaofmymothersayingthewords‘lover’slips’.“Iwon’tkeepyou,though.Iknowyousaidyouhaveameeting,andIneedtoheadinside.I’malreadyatMarvin’s.He’smakingusdinner.”
“Havefunandbehaveyourself.”
Wehangup,andquickasIcan,ItextOlivia,knowingthatcallingherwon’tdoanygood.Shedoesn’tanswerherphone.Ever.Butshe’lltextorSnapChatback.
Hey,girl!Momsaysshe’sgoingonadateandaskedmetocheckinonyou.Forhersanityandyoursafety(becauseIwillkillyou),pleasebehave.Needanything?
Twosecondslater,Igetbackaneyerollemoji.Ihopethatdoesn’tmeanshe’suptonogood,butI’vegottotrusther.Plus,sheknowsI’monlyhalf-kiddingaboutkillingherifshedoesdosomethingstupidordangerous.
Maybewecanhangouttomorrow?
Whenshesendsbackapancakesemoji,Ibreatheasighofrelief.Ifshe’sthinkingaboutbrunch,shecan’tbeuptoanythingtoobad,right?IheartheremojiandthensendJaxxashortmessagetoletherknowI’mhereandonmywayinsidebeforeshovingmyphonebackintomypurse.
Iwasalreadylate,butnowI’mlate
Igrabthepinkbagfulloflooseproductsfrommybackseat,knowingI’llhavetomakeanothertripforthegiftboxes,andclick-clackacrosstheparkinglotinmyheelsasfastasIcan.
Inside,thelobbyiselegantandgrand,aptforthehotel’sname.Atthefrontdesk,thereceptionististypingfuriouslyonherphone—herpersonalone,notthehotel’s—anddoesn’tlookupatmyapproach.
“Excuseme?”Iwaitforhertorespondoratleastlookupfromherphone,butwhenshecontinuestyping,Iclearmythroat.“Excuseme,”Irepeatabitlouder.Sheglancesup,onebrowarchedasifI’mtheonebeingrude.“CouldyoutellmewheretheBedroomHeavenpartyis?”Iaskquietly,notwantingtoannouncetothebustlinglobbyofpeoplethatI’mhereforthesextoyconvention.
Hereyesdropbacktoherphoneassheanswers,“Thirddoorontheleft.”Shewavesahandinthegeneraldirectionofahallwayofftotheside.
Idon’tbothersayingthankyoubecauseshe’salreadyscowlingatherphoneandignoringmeagain.
Hustlingtothehallwaysheindicated,myheelssinkintothelushcarpetasIcountdoors.Igettothethirdone,whichlooksremarkablyplain,andpause.Ismoothmyhandsovermyhips,straighteningthejumpsuitIchoseforthisshindig.It’safewshadesdarkerthanmypinkbag,withadeepVnecklineandsmallrufflesattheshouldersthatgiveitafemininelookbutwidelegsthatflowliketrousers.Ishakemydarkcurlssotheyflowdownmybackandtakeasteadyingbreath.
“Heregoes,girl.You’vegotthis.”
I’mexpectingtowalkintothesexualwonderlandofshoppers,tapas,andcocktailsJaxxtoldmetoexpectfromaBedroomHeavenquarterlyparty.Instead,it’sdarkandIhearfaintapplause.“Shit,I’mlate,”Iwhispertomyself,thinkingI’mmissingtheintrotokickoffthefestivities.
Itrytomakemywaythroughthedarknesstowardthesliveroflightahead,butItripoversomething.Acord,maybe?Whateveritis,Igoflyingforwardandhitsolidgroundwithahardthud.“Fuck,”Ihiss,suddenlyblindedbyabrightlight.
Anyothertime,ImightthinkI’vediedinsomefreakFinalDestinationtypeaccident,butmyhiphurtstoomuchformetobedead.
Ihearachorusofgasps,andasIblinkawaythedarkspotsinmyvision,IrealizethatIhaveanaudiencefilledwithyoungmenwatchingmymisfortunewithraptattention.Somelookhorrified,othersseemamused,andstillothersarelookingatmyaskewlegs.
Ishift,tryingtomakesureabreasthasn’tescapedinmyfall,andvaguelywonderwhereallthewomenare.Iwasexpectingapenisparty,butIfiguredthey’dallbesilicone,notfleshandbone.
AndthenIrealizethatwithmytumble,mybagofgoodieshasspilledeverywhereandI’msurroundedbydildos,vibrators,buttplugs,andcockringsofeverysize,shape,color,andtexture.It’sa‘lions,tigers,andbears,oh,my!’typesituationofthetoyvariety,includingonedildothat’srollingtowardmethreateningly,stoppingmereinchesfrommyfacewiththepeehole—whichisaconvenientlubedispenser—pointingrightatme.
IwishIweredead.
Butasbadasthisis,itgetsworseasatall,blondmanstompstowardme,eachstepsoundinglikeahammerofdoom.He’sglaringangrilyandkickingdicksashecomescloser.“Whatareyoudoing?”
He’safewyearsolderthanme,wearingafinelytailoredbluesuitwithagoldlionpinonhislapel.Underhiswitheringgaze,myeyesfallandInotethefineleatherofhisbrownlace-updressshoes.
“Uhm,couldIinterestyouina…novelty?”Imutter,notmeaningforhimtohear.Butgiventhefaintgrowlemanatingfromhim,heheardeveryword.
Ah,fuck.CHAPTER3CHANCE
Tenminutesago
Straighteningmyblueblazer,Ipauseforamomenttoaffixmyclubpendanttomylapelandclearmythroatinpreparationformyspeech.Onceuponatime,Iwould’vebeenabagofnerveshavingtospeakinfrontofalargecrowd,buttoday,Ifeelascoolasacucumber.
MightbetheshotofbrandyIhadhalfanhourago.Butmorelikely,it’stheyearsofspeakingexperienceundermybelt.
Ifeelpumpedandreadywhilelisteningtomybusinesspartner,EvanWhite,cometotheendofhisspeechtotheslightlyboredcrowdofcollege-ageyoungmen.It’snotEvan’sfaultthey’rebored.He’sjustnotwhothey’reheretosee.
Iam.
“There’snotamaninhistorywhohasn’tneededawingman,”Evansays,smilingashelooksoutintothecrowd.He’stallanddark-haired,dressedinacrispblacksuit,andhisgoldlionheadclubpingleamsunderthespotlight.There’sareasonhe’sthelead-inandI’mthestarofourtwo-manshow.Hisskillsaretop-notchonpaper,trackingourgrowth,budgets,contracts,andmore.
I’mthedreamerwiththecharismatobringpeoplein.
“KobeneededShaq.BradyneededGronk.MaverickneededGoose.AndI’minthesameboat.Withoutournextspeaker,Iwouldn’thavegottenwhereIamtoday,andtheGentlemen’sClubwouldn’tbeoverfourhundredmembersstrongandgrowingbytheday.Withoutquestion,heisoneofthesmartest,mostthoughtfulmenIknow,anexceptionalbusinesspartner,andanevengreaterfriend.He’spassionateandcaresaboutoursharedvision,andmostofall,hecaresaboutallofyouandyourfuture.Foralotofyou,he’sbeenagreatcounselorandmentor,andhehasbeenequallyassuchtome.So,withoutfurtherado,IhandthestagetothePresidentoftheGentlemen’sClub,ChanceHarrington.”
TheapplauseandwhoopsthatensuefromthecrowdfillmewithfireasIpurposefullywalktothecenterofthestagewhereEvanpullsmeintoabrief‘bro’hug,poundingonmybackthreetimes.
“Doyourthing,”Evanwhisperstomeinsupport.Inodfirmlyonce,lettinghimknowI’vegotthis,andhestepsfromthestagetositofftotheside,readytowatchmework.
Steppingbehindthepodiumandfocusingonthecrowd,Icanseethegroupalmostleaningforward,eagertohearwhatIhavetosay.Ihaven’tsaidawordandthey’realreadyeatingoutofthepalmofmyhand,soI’dbettermakethisgood.
“Thankyouforthatwonderfulintroduction,Evan,”Istartoffandthenglancebacktotheaudience.“Butweallknowyougetpaidtowaxpoeticaboutmyamazingnessandnotmentionmyegregiousflaws.NotthatIhaveany.”
Iwinkcomedicallyandpauseforthegood-naturedlaughteratmyself-deprecatingjoke.Evanchucklestoo,holdingafingertohislipsasthoughtellingmetokeepquietaboutthat.We’vedonethisbackandforthforalongtime,andbouncingoffoneanotherthiswayissecondnatureatthispoint.
“Seriously,though,weallcomeheretodaywithstrengths,weaknesses,needs,anddesires.Eachcombinationisasuniqueastheindividual.Sittinginthisroom,lookingoveryourfaces,IseesomeIknowandsomeIdon’tknow…yet.Buteachfaceisthatofsomeoneimportant.Looktoyourright,yourleft,behindyou,infrontofyou.”Iwait,givingthemasecondtoscantheroomandthenreturntheireyestome.“Themenyouseearoundyouallhavedreams,justlikeyou.Maybeit’stobeadoctororlawyer,mayororgovernor,orhell,eventhePresidentoftheUnitedStates.Ormaybeit’ssomethingclosertoyourheart.”Itouchmyownchest.“Tobeahusband,father,leader.Anexampleforfuturegenerationstoaspiretobelike.”
Icanseeithappenacrosstheroom.They’reinvestedinwhatI’msaying,inthemoment,andmostimportantly,inthemselves.
“Today,weliveinadifferentworldfromthatofourfathers.Truthis,theylivedinadifferentworldfromtheirfatherstoo.It’sanever-endingmarchofchange.Unfortunately,toomanyinthisgenerationhavebeenledastray
Therearethosewhowouldhaveyoubelievethatyoungmenoftoday’sgeneration,likeyou,arevictims.Thatthechangingtimeshaveprogressedustoaplacewhereyourveryexistenceisrejectedonadailybasis.Thatthereisnohopeleftforyouinsocietybecausewomenhavebecometoopowerful,holdingallthecardsinrelationshipsandsex,aswellasintheboardroomandbusiness.Thatthey,women,areyourenemy.”
Amurmurworksthroughtheroom.Icanseesomedisagreeingalready,whileothersseemtobeagreeingwiththesentiment.ThosearethemenIneedtoreach.
“Iproposethatwomenaren’ttheenemy.Instead,theenemylieswithinus.Lookaroundtheinternet,onsocialmedia,oreveninthedarkercornerstoindividualswhoexploitandmanipulatevulnerableyoungmen.Theypreachdivisive,hateful,toxicmessages.Youknowthebuzzwordsbecausesomeofthemhaveworkedtheirwayintooureverydayspeech.Alpha,Sigma,Beta…listeningtothesepeople,you’dthinkwewereallpartofsomegiantfraternityfest.Butthemajorityofthesehatemongersareinitforprofit.Someofthem—”
“LikeJakeMcGibbons!”someoneinthecrowdshouts,interruptingmeandcausinglaughsandsnickersallaroundtheroom.
Ifrownatthename.JakeMcGibbonsisapopular,so-calledmen’sadvocatewhogivesadvicetoyoungmen.That’snotsobadinitself.Ineffect,it’swhatIdotoo.
Andonthesurface,someofhis‘advice’islegit.Pushyourselftobethebestyoucanbe.Investinyourfuture.Exercise.
Butit’sthetoxicfoundationofhismessagingthat’stheproblem.Withhisaggressivedeliveryandsuperficialpresentation,hemakessensetoafragile,insecureyoungmindwhodesperatelywantscontrolovernotonlyhisownlife,buttobe‘over’others,cateringtohisfollowers’desirestobesuperior.
Allhopeisn’tlost,though.
It’soneofthereasonsIdowhatIdo,creatingandrunningtheGentlemen’sClubasanalternativetopeoplelikeJakeMcGibbons.Iwanttofightagainstthesedangerousnarrativesandhelpyoungmenseetheirtruepotentialratherthanfallingforseductivemessagingthatplacestheblamesolelyonothers,causingresentmentandhatredtofester.
There’sanotherwaytosuccess,andIwanttohelptheseyoungmendiscoverit.
“Yes,likeJakeMcGibbons,”Ianswer.Tryingtoreturntomyplannedspeech,Icontinue,“Creatingahierarchywithinourownranksdefeatsusall.Onlybybeingourbestselves,andhelpingourbrotherbehisbestself,canweallsucceed.That’swhattheGentlemen’sClubisabout.”
Iletthatsinkinforamoment,hopingtheyhearthedifferenceinapproachbetweenmeandassholeslikeMcGibbonswhotalkaboutmasculinitylikeit’ssomethingyouearnatthegymorbydegradingwomen.
“Nottoolongago,Iwaslikemanyofyou—ayoungmanwithbigdreams,helddownbyresponsibilities.Admittedly,theymightnotbethesameonesmanyofyouface.Iwasluckyenoughtonotworryabouttuitionpaymentsorwheremynextmealwouldcomefrom.Butmylastnamecarriesaweightmanyofyoumightrecognizeorperhapsevenfeelfromyourownfamilies.Forme,thatgenerationalmarchwasmorelikeamilitantdrumbeat.Mygrandfatherstartedfromnothing,myfathergrewthefamilybusinessintoahouseholdname,andmyolderbrothersarepartofthattradition.ItwasassumedthatI’dsteprightinlinetoo.Obviously,Ididn’t.”
Iholdmyhandsout,showingthatI’mherewiththemandnotatmyfamily’sheadquarters.That’snosmallfeat,either.WhenIfinishedschoolandtoldDadthatmyplansweredifferentfromhis,helosthismind,toputitmildly.Therewasyellingaboutexpectations,threatsofleavingmetofendoffthewolvesalone,andeventually,disappointmentwhenIheldsteady.Mytwoolderbrothers,CameronandCarter,evengotintotheargument,pressuringmetojointheminthefamilybusiness.ButIcouldn’tseemyselfplayingthirdfiddletothem,especiallywhenthey’realreadyatwarwitheachothertoooften.
Iwantednopartofit.
“ButIdidn’tknowwhoorwhatIwantedtobecomeatfirst,”Icontinue“Otherthannotmydad’scarboncopy.SoIkeptmyheaddownandmynoseinabookuntilithitme.
“Theguysaroundmehadbecomedisillusionedwithsocietyandoftencomplainedabouthowthingsweren’tgoingtheirway,whetheritbegrades,women,orjobprospects.Butthesesamemenstayeduphalfthenight,stumblingintoclasslate,reekingofbodyodor,oldbeer,andunwashedT-shirtseveryMondaymorning.Andstill,theywouldlaytheblameelsewhere.Theywantedlifehandedtothemonasilverplattereventhoughtheydidn’tdoanythingtoearnitandwere,infact,activelysabotagingthemselves.”
There’sabitofuncomfortableshiftingfrommorethanafewguys.Beingcalledoutisn’teasy,butrecognizingthatyourminimaleffortbegetsminimalresultsisthefirststeptobeingbetter.
“Theyweretheirownworstenemy.Usingthemasanexample,Ididabitofself-reflectionofmyownandcameupwithaplan.Evenwroteitonmybathroommirror.”Iholdupafingerforeachitemtohighlightthem.“Getoffthecouch.Getyouracttogether.Sleep.Study.Shower.Brushyourteeth.Thebasics.”Ipointattheaudience.“Andthenthehardworkstarts.Oncethosethingswereroutine,Icouldfocusonbeingabetterperson,effectingpositivechangearoundme,and—”
“Doyoureallyexpectustobelievethatbullshit?”adeepvoicebellows.
Isquintthroughthespotlight,shadingmyeyesandscanningthecrowduntilIspotwho’sspoken.
LucasWalker.
He’sanewbie,stillconsideringjoiningtheGentlemen’sClub,andexactlythetypeofmanIwanttoreach.He’sgotonefootinthedoorherebuthasJakeMcGibbons-typerhetoricstillwhisperinginhisear.
Rightnow,he’sstandingup,hisarmscrossedoverhischest,glaringatmeinchallenge.Ifthiswereabattleofphysicality,he’dwin,bicepsdown.He’sbuiltlikeadefensiveend.Butit’snot.
Contrarytopopularbelief,menhaveevolvedbeyondfistfightsandbarbrawlsforthemostpart.OratleastIhave,andIhavenointerestinbeatingreasonintoLucas’smind.Thatdoesn’twork,anyway.
Meetinghisglarehead-on,Iaddresstheinterruption.“What‘bullshit’wouldthatbe,Lucas?”
Hegesturestowardmewhilehalfturningtoaddresstheroom,grinninggoofilyathispeersasifhe’ssayingwhattheyallthinktoo.“Thatyougotherebydoing‘thebasics’,”hemocks,addinginairquotesasifhistonedidn’tmakethatclearalready.“Youexpectustobelievethatyourfamilymoneydidn’topeneverydoor,getyouafancyasfuckcar,andmakehotchicksdroptotheirkneesandbegtosuckyourdick?Howstupiddoyouthinkweare?”
Igroaninwardlyastheroomeruptsintosnickersandchatter.It’snotthefirsttimeI’vebeenaccusedofkeepingasqueaky-cleanfa?adewhilebeinganentitledassholebehindcloseddoors.Ithinkpeoplehavecometoexpectthatfrompeoplewithmoney.Itdoesn’thelpthatI’msingle,don’tpubliclydate,andhavestrictboundariesaboutdiscussingmyprivatelife.
ButLucasiswrong.Thisisn’tanact.Isimplyhavehighstandardsandholdmyselftothemstringently.
“Lucas,ifthat’syourdefinitionofsuccess,thenyoushouldleavenow,”Isayflatly,callinghisbluff.“ButIdon’tthinkitis,nordoIthinkitshouldbe,”Iaddquickly.
“AndasI’vesaidcountlesstimesbefore”—Iglancearoundtheroom,knowingtherearethosewho’llbackmeup—“I’mheretohelp.Idon’tdothisforamusementorsomeweirdsenseofheroworship.Ibelieveinyou,believeyoucanbebetter…ifyouchoosetobe.Ifyouworktobe.Andthen,youcanredefinesuccessforyourselfhoweveryou’dliketo.”
Smooth,Ipraisemyself.Lucasreallythoughthewasdoingsomethingthere,butI’vematchedverbalwitswithfarbetter.Hell,Igrewupwithafamilythatcanflambéyourgutswithalook,muchlessaword.IhopeLucashearsme,though,andthatIdidn’tgotoofarforhisfragileego.Abeatendogeventuallybites,andLucashasbeenbeatentoomany
“But—”Lucasbeginstoprotest,butagruffvoiceinterruptshim.
“Dude,sitthefuckdownandshutup.Youasked,heanswered,anddoyouseriouslythinkhehangsoutwithusforfun?Incaseyou’renotsure,theanswer’s‘fuckno’.”
There’sabitofchucklingfromaroundtheroomatthat.“Someofusactuallywanttodomorethanflunkoutandgohometoourparents’basements,soletChancetalktothoseofuswhocametohearhim,notyourdumbass.”
IlookforthenewspeakerandspothimseveralrowsdownfromLucas.EnzoDelano.We’vespokenafewtimes.Heseemslikeasmartguywhohonestlydoesn’tneedmuchguidance.He’sgothisheadonstraight,hasaplan,andhasahealthyfearofdisappointinghismother,whomheloves.Buthesharedthatheneededasenseofcommunityandwantedsomedecentmalerolemodelsbecausehisfather’sbeenabsentmostofhislife,andthatwasenoughtoconvincemethathe’dmakeagreatGentleman.
LucasglaresatEnzo,pissedatbeingcalledoutandsensinganewtarget.ButEnzo’snowiltingweaklinghimselfandgrewupscrappyenoughtobackuphisownoutspokenness.
EnzofirmlypointsatLucas’sseat,andLucas’sfaceturnsred,butheslowlybeginstosinkintohisseat,seething.
“Exactly,shutthefuckupandletthemanfinishhisdamnspeech.”
IfonlyEnzohadn’taddedthelastbit,Ithinkwithasigh.Unfortunately,Lucashastogetinthelastword.
“Fuckyou,”hemuttersloudly.I’mnotsurewhetherthat’sdirectedtoEnzo,me,bothofus,ortheworldatlarge,butwhenEnzostands,Icanseehowfastthisisgoingtogosideways.
Consideringourclubisfilledwithabunchofyoung,opinionated,hormone-ragingmeninoneplace,it’snotuncommonforinsultstobetossedbackandforth,butIdon’twantitescalatingintoanyfisticuffs.
There’satimeforslickwordsandgentleguidanceandatimetohandleshit.Thisisthelatter.Ishout,“Hey!Bothofyou,settledown—”
BeforeIcancompletemythought,there’sacommotionfromthesideofthestagethatdrawsthecrowd’seyesevenmorethantheimpendingfight.
Followingtheirgazes,Iglancetomyleftandpauseinshockasacurvaceouswomaninapinkjumpsuit,carryingalargebagonhershoulder,suddenlyappears.
Butasquicklyassheappears,shegoestumblingthroughtheair,herhighheelcaughtonanampcord.Helplessly,Iwatchasshehitsthestagewithahollowthud,herbagslippingfromhershoulder,herdarkhairfallingoverherface,andherlegsungracefullyflyingeverywhichdirection.
LucasandEnzo’sfightforgotten,there’sanaudiblegaspfromtheaudienceasdildosofeverycolor,size,and…shape?…scatteracrossthestage.Istillhearthewoman’spained,“Fuck.”
What.The.Fuck?
Mymindrushesthroughscenariosofwhythiscouldbehappening.Theonlythingthatmakessensetomeisthatthisissomekindofprank,andfuryragesupfrommycore.
KnowingIonlyhavesecondstoreactbeforethingsgetoutofcontrol,Iwalkovertothewoman,scowlingatherthewholeway.“Whatareyoudoing?”Idemandmenacingly.
Ifalterforasecondasshelooksupatmeinmortifiedshock.
She’sbeautiful.Icanseethatnowthatherhairisoutofherface,alongwithasmallsprinklingoffrecklesacrosshernose.Herlipsarepaintedasoftpinkandareabitpouty,makingmewonderifshe’susedtogettingherway,andherbrowneyesarerimmedwithdarklinerandlonglashesthatarefluttering,notflirtatiouslybutratherwithconfusion.
Hercheeksturnredinaninstant,andshefumblesforwordsashereyesfalltomyshoes.Butsomehow,shefindsthem,mutteringunderherbreath,“CanIinterestyouina…novelty?”
“Excuseme?”Isaysharply.I’mnotactuallypissed,I’mjust…ifsomeonehadaskedmetolistthetoponethousandpossibleresponsessomeonewouldgivetomyquestioninthissituation,tryingtosellmeasextoywouldnothavemadethelist.
“HolyDicks!”ahigh-pitchedvoiceshrieksinhorror,andsuddenly,anotherwomanappears.Thisoneiswearingaskintightblackdress,fishnethose,andthick-soledcombatboots.Herravenblackhairstreamsbehindherasshecomesrushingforwardandbeginsscoopingupdildosandothervarioussextoysbythehandfulandcarelesslystuffingtheminthebaginfrontoftheshockedcrowd.“Thereyouare!I’vebeenlookingalloverforyou!Andlook,you’vedroppedourgoodiesfortoday’spartyallovertheplace!”
Igetthefeelinghernaturalvoiceisatleastasolidoctavelowerbecauseshesoundslikeshe’sdoingaMrs.Doubtfireimpersonation.Infact,thiswholethingalmostseemslikealow-calibertheatricalstageproductionwrittenbyachild.Exceptforthedicks,ofcourse.
Iwouldlaughifthesituationweren’tsoutterlyridiculousandahugedisruptiontomyspeech.
I’mtooshockedtomoveandsimplystandfrozenasIwatchtheblack-hairedgirlscoldtheotherwhilequicklygatheringthetoyswithlightningspeed.Buteventually,mybodyoverridesmyoutragedmindandIreachdowntohelpthestillred-facedbrunettetoherfeet.
“Areyouokay?”Iasktightly,rememberingthesoundofherbodyhittingthestagehard.
Shedoesn’tgetachancetoanswerbecausetheblack-hairedgirlwavesheralso-blacknailsinapology,ignoringmyquestionandgesturingathercompanion.“I’msosorry!Wereallyapologizefortheinterruptionto…uh…”Sheglancesatthelionpendantonmylapelandarchesablack,thin-linedbrow.“Whatevercultmeetingthisis.Butwe’llbeonourway!Sorry!”
BeforeIcansayanythingelse,shepullsthebrunettealong,whocastsonelastembarrassedglancemywayastheyrunforthehillsbeforeIcanstopthem.Asshemoves,sheremindsmeofasexybunny,quicklydisappearingbackstageandleavingusallinbewilderment.
Itonlytakesamomentfortheroomtounfreeze.
“Whatthefuck?”someoneasksasnervouslaughterfillstheroom.
“Holyshit!Nooffense,Chance,butIgottago.Ifthosearetheir‘goodiesfortoday’sparty’,Iwantaninvitetothatpartyinsteadofthisone.”
AnewcomerIhaven’tmetyetraiseshishandandcallsout,“Yeah,IthinkIjustredefinedsuccessformyselfanditlookslikethat.”He’susingmyownwordsagainstmeashestrokestheairlikehe’sjackingoff.
Theroomeruptsinhoots,hollers,andlaughs,andI’mforcedtoshouttobeheard.
“Alright,alright,enough!”Ibellow.“Thatwasn’tfunny.Infact,I’dbetternotfindoutoneofyoustagedthat.AndifIdofindoutwho,you’refuckinggone.”
Myserioustoneanduseofchoicewords,somethingIrarelyuseinfrontofthem,giveseveryonepauseastheyrealizeI’mnotjokingaround.
“Yeah,”Evanadds,backingmeupashestandsandstaresflatfacedintothecrowdalongsideme.“Iknowyouguyslikeyourpranks,butthiswenttoofar.Wrongplace,wrongtime.”
Theroomdescendsintogrumblingaseveryonelooksateachother,butitdoesn’tseemlikeanyoneisgoingtoratontheculprit,andlookingatallthefacesgathered,apartofmebeginstowonderifmaybeitwasn’taprank.
Isitpossibleshestumbledintothewrongroomandtrulyishereforanotherevent?
Ishuddertothinkwhatthateventmightbeconsideringwhatallrolledoutonthestage.Butapartofmecan’thelpbutspeculate.I’mnotaslewdastheclubguys,butevenI’lladmitthatit’snoteverydayabeautifulwomantossestoysatyourfeet.
AsIthinkaboutthedickthatwaspointedrightatherpink,poutylips,Ifeelheatstarttogrowundermycollar,andIhurriedlypushthosethoughtsawaylestIembarrassmyselfinfrontofeveryone.
Iclearmythroat.“Let’srefocusandmoveon,guys.”Too-widegrinsandmischievouseyesmeetmyinstruction,andIknowIhavetogetthembackwithme.“Look,Iknowit’shard…butcomeon…”Itease,intentionallyemphasizingthewordstomakethemchuckleabit.Whenitsucceeds,Ishakemyheadandsmiletoo.“I’vetotallyforgotten.Wherewerewebeforeallthat?”
Igesturetowardthestage,intentionallyavoidingremindingLucasandEnzothattheywerenearblowsbeforeDickapaloozahappened.
Stephen,aquietguywho’sonlybeenamemberforashorttime,offers,“Thebasics.”
Thetwowordsareenoughtogetmebackontrack,andIspeakforanotherthirtyminutesabouthowsettingintentions,followingthrough,andbeingyourbestselfarethestepstosuccess,howeveryoudefineit.
Somehow,bytheendofmyspeech,IfeellikeI’vereachedthemajorityoftheguys.EitherI’veinspiredtheoneswhoarealreadymembersorhookedtheoneswhoareconsideringjoining.
Butasourgroupactivitiesstartandeveryonebeginstominglewithadrinkinhandandfreedomtochitchat,mostofthemarelaughingandjokingaboutthe‘SexToyBarbie’,asIhearthemcallingher.
Evanwalksuptogivemeaslapontheshoulder,saying,“Greatspeech,man,butthatwassomecrazyshit.”
“Yeah,”Ianswerdully.
“Can’twin‘emall,”heoffers.“ButIbetournextorientationisfullafterwordgetsoutaboutthis.You’llhavetoreallybringit,andIdon’tmeanthedildos.”
That’sEvan,alwaysthinkingaboutthebottomline.CHAPTER4SAMANTHA
I’mabundleofnervesandembarrassment,breathlessandflushed,whenJaxxandIenterBedroomHeaven’sparty.Apparently,thedistractedreceptionistwasonedooroff,andJaxxtriedtocatchmeinthehallwaybutIdidn’thearhercallingme.IguessI’mjustgladsherescuedmefrommyratherprick-lypredicament.
ThisroomhasatotallydifferentvibefromtheseriouswhateveritwasIcrashed.It’sopenandspacious,withambientlightingglowinginpink,purple,andwhitehues,creatingafunandflirtyatmosphere.Tableswithavarietyoftoysarespreadthroughouttheroom,andwomenofallagesareminglingandshoppingwithplasticcupcocktailsintheirhands.
Everythingisselfie-ready,includingacentraldisplaywithamassivelyoversized,veineddildosuction-cuppedtothetablewherepeoplearecrowdedaround,cheesingintotheirphone’scamera.I’mnotsureIwantapictureofmewithathree-footdick,butwhateverfloatstheirboats.
“Holycrap,thisislikeaminiadultconvention!”Iwhisper,andJaxxlaughs.“What?”
“Whatdoyouknowaboutadultconventions?”
“Everything.FromInstagram,ofcourse.”Atherdubiouslook,Iquicklytackon,“Andforresearch.”
“Ibet.”Pausing,shetiltsherheadandpointsacrosstheroom.“Ithinkthat’sourtable.Let’ssetupanddropsomedongs!”Ittakesafewtripstobothourcarstounloadallofourgear,butoncewedo,Jaxxinstructsmeto‘spread’em’withawickedgrinofherblack-paintedlips.
Jaxx’sgoodhumorhelpsbecauseafterthatfuckupofacatastrophenextdoor,mynervousguthassomehowjustgottenworse.Thetablebesideusisfilledwithwomenwearingfeatheryboasaroundtheirnecksandoversizedclownsunglassesontheirheadsliketiaras,bothofwhicharedecoratedwithdanglingpenisornamentsthatclinktogetherwitheverymovementlikeadicksymphony.
Theirteamisalsowearingmatchingpinkshirtsthatproclaim‘Cucumbersbelonginsalad,askmeforsomethingbetter’amidadisplayofvariousBedroomHeavenvibesanddildos.They’rehootingandhollering,loudlytalkingaboutwettingthebedfromoneparticulartoy,theSuckasaurusMax.
“IneededaGatorade,acigarette,andawipedownbeforeroundtwo,butyoucanbetIwentbackformore,”whatseemstobetheleadsaleswomanoversharesasshenodsenthusiastically.“ButifyougettheMax,alsogetthewaterprooftowel.You’llwantittoprotectyourmattressandsoyoudon’thavetostripthewholebedeverytime.LesslaundrymeansmoreMaxtime.”
I’mgladthey’rehavingfun,makingsales,andgettingpleasurefromthevarioustoys,buttheirvibeisn’texactlywhatI’mhopingfor.Thankfully,thereareplentyofcustomerswholikeamorelow-keyapproachtodiscussingtheirpreferences,andImakeseveralsalesamidactualsexualhealthconversationsinwhichIdon’tusethephrase‘ramalottading-dong’asingletime.Unlikemysalesneighbors.
Hourspass,andIlosecountofhowmanytoyswesell.AllIknowisthatit’sabunch.Includingonequiteliteralbunch—aconnectedchainofballsthatyouinsertvaginallyand,asyourinnermusclesflex,theyrollaroundinside,creatingapleasurablesensation.Jaxxsoldthatonetoaforty-something-year-oldwomanwhosaidthey’regoingtobepartofherTantricsexpractice.
Honestly,it’sprettyamazingthevarietyofwomen,toys,andsexlivesallcontainedinthisoneroom.
Atthefrontoftheroom,someonetapsonamicrophone,callingout,“Ladies!CanIgetyourattention,please!”
Ilookup,whereIseeawomanwholookslikeapornstarturnednewsanchor.Herplatinumblondehairisvoluminous,extension-long,andperfectlycurled,hermakeupisdramatic,withseveralshadesofglitteryeyeshadowandfakelashes,andherprofessionaldressisvirtuallypaintedoverclearlyenhancedbreastsandaroundpeachofanassthatmakesmewanttohitthegymforsomeweightedsquats.She’sbeaming,whichshouldseemfriendlyandwelcomingbutratherseemslikeshe’sbarelybitingbackherdesiretotellusallto‘shutthehellupandlisten’toher.
“Who’sthat?”IaskJaxx.
“Shh,that’sApril.She’stheregionalrepresentative,”shewhispers.“Basically,ourbigboss.”
“WelcometoyetanothersuccessfulquarterlyBedroomHeavenregionalconference!”Aprilsqueals,hypingthecrowdup.
Cheersfilltheroom,andIclapalongpolitelywitheveryone.Asitfades,Aprilcontinues.
“Thisquarterwasyetanotherrecord-breakingoneforus,withsalesgrowingexponentially,andmoreandmorejoiningtheBedroomHeavenfamily.”
Shekeepsgoing,givingsomehypenumbersthatmakeBedroomHeavenseemliketheAmazonofsextoys,mixedinwithalittlerah-rahstufftokeepeveryonedreamingbig.She’sgoodatit,andIwonderifshewasapageantgirl,acheerleader,orbothinheryoungerdays.ButthoughmyinitialimpressionwasthatAprilisabit‘lookatme’,themoreshetalks,themoregenuinesheseems.She’shypedbecausesheactuallywantsBHtodowellandwantstoshareeveryone’ssuccesses,sotheygetpraisetoo.
“Idon’twanttobeuphereallnightwhenweallknowwhatgoodieswillactuallykeepyouupallnight,”Aprilteasessaucily,gettinglaughs,“butIcan’tleavewithoutgivingsomewell-deservedrecognitiontoourtopproducersthisquarter.So,let’sgivearoundofapplausetoGenniferDennis,LaylaJohnson,andMimiChen!Waytogo,ladies!”
There’sapplauseagain,andIjoinin.Ihaven’tmetthesewomen,butapparently,they’removingsomedicks.
“Mostofall,I’dliketogiveabigshoutouttoourtopregionalproducer,andoneofthetoptenrepsinthecountry…KaraJones!GiveitupforKara,yeah,babe!Whoooooo!”
EveryonecheersasAprilwavesforKaratocomeonstage.Karastridesacrosstheroomconfidently,smilingateveryoneasshemakesherwaytoApril’sside.Nexttome,Jaxxalmostswoonsasshesputters,“Holyshit.”
“Whatisthat?”Iask,notsurewhatI’mlookingat.Atrophy,maybe?Orapenis-shapedsidetable?
“TheDiamondDick,”Jaxxwhispers.“Obviouslynotarealdiamond,it’scrystalglassorquartzorsomething,butit’sahugeaward.Inmorewaysthanone.”HertypicallydeadpanexpressionislituplikeaChristmastree,hereyessparklingandteethflashingassheclapsexcitedlyforheraunt.
Igetit.Kinda.Imean,Kara’srunningasuccessfulbossbabebusiness,butshe’salsogettingcongratulatedfor…sellingdick.Fakedick,butstill.IguessIjustneverthoughtmycareerpathwouldhaveaDiamondDickonit.
AsKaraacceptsthelarge‘trophy’,Jaxxleansover.“Haveyoubeenkeepingtrackofyoursales?”
Iglanceatthetable,whichisstillfullofdisplayproducts.“Iwas,butwegotsobusythatIkindalostcount.”
Jaxxarchesathinbrowandpursesherlips.“Ithinkyou’regonnabemorethansatisfied,”shetaunts,“becausethatlastsaleyoumade?”Inod,rememberingthewomanwhoboughtagiftbox,lube,andacockring.“Thatwasyourtwelfthone.Youearnedthebonus.”
“What?”Igasp,lookingunderthetableforthestackofboxesbutfindingnone.“Areyouserious?”
“Webothdid.Dolla,dollabills,bitch.”Shefeignsmakingitrainmoneywhilespinninginacircle.
Okay,maybeaDiamondDickwouldn’tbesobad.Imean,Iwouldn’thavetodisplayitontheshelfinmytherapyoffice,butI’dbequitehappytoearnthatbaby.EspeciallygiventhefactthatifIjustearnedtwothousanddollarsintwoweeks,howmuchdidKaramake?
“Dayum!”Igrinasexcitementandreliefwashthroughme.SomuchsothatI’vealmostforgottenfallingonmyfaceandspillingabagofdicksinfrontofaroomfullofguys.Butdefinitelynotforgettingtheblondsexgod’sglareorthegentlebutfirmwayhehelpedmeup.I’vegotsomefantasyplansforthatandtheVelvetreamRabbitIdecidedtotreatmyselfwith.Ican’tsellitwithouttryingit,afterall.
***
Wedon’tmakeitfarafterthequarterlypartywrapsup.Jaxxinformsmethatwe’recelebratingoursuccesswithdrinksandsteersmetowardthebarinthehotel’sbasement.Idefinitelydon’targuewiththatplan,butwhenshepushesthe‘B’ontheelevator,Iworrythebarwillbeasmokycigarloungeorsomething.
Thankfully,it’snothinglikethat.It’sclassyandupscale,justlikethehotel,withalong,gleamingwoodenbaralongonewall,boothswithtalldividersthatlendprivacy,andapianoplayersubtlyticklingtheivoriesinthecorner.
“Thatwasamazing,”Jaxxsighsasshefallsintoabooth.“Somanysatisfiedcustomers.”
Ilaughatherobviousdoublemeaning.“Itdoesmakemealittlesadforthem,though.Imean,yeah,atoycanbefun,somethingtospiceupthehumdrummaybe,butthere’ssomethingtobesaidforcommunicatingyourneedswithyourpartnertoo.Ifhedoesn’tknowwhereaclitis,showhim.Lethimwatchyouandlearnhowyouwanttobetouched.Don’tjustsay‘oh,well’andhandlethingsyourselfafterhe’srolledover.”
Jaxxrollshereyes.“You’regoingtherapistonme.We’recelebratingtoytriumphstonight,notsolvingtheflawsinthesexualpatriarchy.”
BeforeIcanargue,awaitressstopsby.Iorderafrozenmargarita,andJaxxasksforawhiskeywithanorangegarnish.“Don’tstartwithoutme,butI’vegottopiss.Berightback.”
Igigglealittleassheslipsbackoutofthebooth.Hercrudelanguageandzerofucksgivenattitudearesomehowcharmingcomingfromher.
Amomentlater,thewaitressreturnswithourdrinksplusaplateoftinysourdoughbreadtoasts,hummus,andolives.“Oh,wedidn’t—”Istarttotellthewaitress,butshecutsmeoff.
“Yourfriendordereditonherwaytotherestroom.Saidshe’shungryenoughto,uhm…eathairyass?”SheseemsmorethanabitconfusedbyJaxxandbasicallyrunsawaywhiletheplateisstillclatteringtothetabletop
Itakeasipofmymargarita,closingmyeyestosavorit.Iprobablyshould’veorderedawaterbeforethewaitressscamperedoffbecauseI’mrealizingthatI’mthirstyaftertheday’swork.Andhungry.Idon’twanttoenduponmyassdrunk.
Idigintothetoastandhummustoo,notwaitingonJaxxdespiteherinstructiontodoso.I’mthreetoastsinwhenathroatclearsbesideme.“Oh!”Iexclaim,shockedatthemanstandingthereandthedribbleofhummusthat’sescapingmybottomlip.Iswipeatmymouthwithafinger,slippingitintomymouthtolickitclean.
I’mstunnedintosilencebyhissuddenappearance,nottomentionhisblond,blue-eyed,well-dressed,magneticpresence.EvenifIhadn’tseenhimfrontandcenteronstage,everythingabouthimsaysHeadMotherFuckerInCharge.
“Surprisedtoseeyou’restillhereafterthatstuntearlier,”hesays.Hisvoiceisdeep,smooth,andedgedwithanger.
“Stunt?”Iecho.“Morelikethemostembarrassingmomentofmylife.”
Idon’textendtheinvitation,butstill,heannoyinglyslipsintotheboothacrossfromme,makinghimselfathomewithonearmstretchedoutalongtheseatbackandtheotherrestingcasuallyonthetabletop.IfIwereagamblingwoman,I’dbethe’smanspreadingbeneaththetable,claimingspaceinthatannoyingly,presumptivemaleway.Like,wegetit,you’vegotbigballs,butiftheyneedthatmuchbreathingroom,youshouldprobablyseeadoctoraboutthat.
I’malsosurethetop-tierglarehe’sflashinghasmeltedmanyaman,butI’mmadeofsturdierstuffthanmost,soInarrowmyeyesandglarerightback.“Andwhateverthatcultmeetingwas,I’mnotinterested.Especiallygiventhewhole‘virginsacrificialvibe’youwereputtingoff.”
Hislipstwitchasthoughhe’sfightingasmile.“Doubtyou’dqualify,givenyourbagofgoodiesandthe‘partyplans’yourfriendmentioned.”
“Interested?We’reknownforourtoysforfemales,butwehaveamale-focusedlinewithcockrings,buttplugs,pocketpussies,andprostatemassagers.”
I’mwellawarethatI’mtauntinghim,anditfeelslikeadangerousthingtodo,butthewaythemuscleinhisjawjumpswhenIsaycockringsistooentertainingtostepbackfrom.“I’dbehappytogetyouacatalogandgooveroptionswithyou.”
“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”hegritsoutfrombetweenclenchedteeth.I’mprettysurethathe’sspeakingsoquietlybecausehedoesn’twantanyonetohearme,though.
“I’maBedroomHeavenconsultant,specializinginintimatetoys,eroticnovelties,andadultproducts,”Iexplain.“Nojudgmenthere,justwanttohelppeoplehavefulfilling,healthy,satisfyingsexlives.”Iaddasaleswomansmiletotheproclamation,enjoyingwatchinghimplaycatchup.
“Yousell…sextoys?Liketheonesinyourbagthatspilledalloverthestage?”heclarifies,soundingslightlylessscandalizednowthatI’mnotthrowingaroundwordslike‘cock’and‘pussy’wheresomeoneelseinthebarmighthear.
“Yep,thoseandlotsmore.Todaywasourquarterlyparty,whichwasonedoorawayfromyourthing.”Iwaveahandinhisgeneraldirection,stillnotsurewhatIwalkedintoearlier.“Youcanblamethereceptionistforthatdebacleifyou’restillmad.Butwhatthehellwasthat?”
Beforehecananswer,Jaxxstompsuptothetable.“Hellno,Mr.PresidentoftheYoungDickster’sGuild.Leavemygirlalone.”
Ican’thelpbutsmileatherautomaticdefenseofme.Jaxxisthetypewhohasyourback,nomatterwhat.
“It’sokay.IwasjustofferingMr….?”Ipause,realizingIdidn’tgettheSexGodinaSuit’sname.
“Chance.JustChance.”
Iliftabrowandsmirkabitathisreticencetoevensharehisname.Fine,twocanplaythatgame.“Sam.JustSam,”IreplytohimbeforetellingJaxx,“Iwasoffering‘justChance’herealittlelookie-looatourcatalog.IthinktheNaughtyNeighborisabouthisspeed.”
Mysuggestedproductisarealisticfleshlightthat’sasPlainJaneastheycome,nonibsorribbinginside,smalllabiathatlookporn-star-esqueperfect,andnovibration.It’sbarelyonetinystepupfromusingyourpalm.
Jaxx’sblacklipsspread,flashingherwhiteteeth,asshetapshersharplypointednailtoherchinandgivesChanceanappraisinglook,whichincludesleaningbacktocheckhimoutheadtotoeunderthetable.
“NaughtyNeighbor?Bo-ring.Butyeah,helookstoostiffforanythingreallyfun.CanyouimaginehimwithanAss-GasmorBlackHoleExplorer?”
Notcaringaboutanybaraudience,shetensesupherwholebody,likeshe’stryingtogetawayfromMr.Invisiblebutt-fuckingher,andmakesaweirddolphin-soundingnoise.“Eee,eee,eee!”
“Hey!”Chanceblurtsout,seemingoffendedatherimpressionofhim,butwhenJaxxandIbothglanceathimknowingly,herelents.“Idon’tknowwhatI’marguingabout.Idon’tevenknowwhatthoseare.NordoIthinkIwantto,”headmits.
Jaxxlicksherfingeranddrawsatallymarkintheair.“PointforChancewhorecognizesthathe’sprobablynevertakenoneinhislife,”shedeclares.Plantingherpalmsonthetable,shetellsme,“Igottarun.KaraneedshelpgettingtheDiamondDickinhercar.Areyougoodhereoryouwannacomewith?”
Shejerksherheadtowardthedoorofthebar,offeringmeanout.Ishouldgowithher.IhavenoreasontositherewithChance.Jaxxcouldprobablyusemyhelp,andIreallyneedtotaketheseheelsoff.ButIwasenjoyingthebanterwithChancebeforeJaxxwalkedbackup,andIstilldon’tknowwhatthatmeetingwas.
I’mcurious,andthoughIknowthat’sexactlywhatkilledthecat,Ifindmyselfsaying,“I’mgood.ThinkI’llsipmymargarita,eatafewtoasts,andseeifIcansellonemoreitemtoday.”IofferChanceaflirtysmilethathereturns,alongwithachuckleatmyboldness.
“Misbehave,youtwo,”Jaxxinstructsus,pointingafingeratmeandthenChance.Shegrabsherwhiskey,tossesitbackinoneswallow,suckstheorange,andslamstheglassbacktothetable.
AsJaxxstrutsoutofthebar,Chancewhispers,“Ithinkshemeant‘behave’,right?”
Ipursemylips,fightingbackthelaughthatwantstoescapeathissweetsummerchildinnocence.“Oh,no,shesaidexactlywhatshemeant.”
Thewaitressmakesanotherappearance,seemingmorecomfortablenowthatJaxxisgone.“CanIgetyouadrink,sir?”sheasksChance.
“Clubsodaandlime,please.”Heliftshischininmydirectionquestioningly.
“Water,please.”
Nowthatit’sthetwoofus,I’mnotsurewhattosay,soIstuffahummus-coveredtoastinmymouth,chewingdelicately.Thewaitressdropsoffourdrinksinrecordtime,andwe’realoneagain.
“Youaskedwhatyouwalkedinonearlier,”heremindsme.“It’ssortofamotivationalspeakingmeetsBigBrothersmentorship-typedeal.Ihelpboysbebettermensothey’repreparedforthelifetheywant.”
Lettingthatsinkin,Iquipindisbelief,“So,novirginalsacrifices?”
Helaughs,thesounddeepandrumbly.AndI’mnotsurprisedwhenbutterfliesstartdancinginmybelly.CHAPTER5CHANCE
WhenIsawSamsittingaloneinthehotelbar,Itoldmyselftokeepwalking.She’sobviouslynothingbuttrouble—bargingintoourclubmeeting,interruptingmyspeech,anddisappearingwithoutanapology.Despiteconsciouslydecidingthat,myfeetturnedtowardheroftheirownvolition,drawntoherbeautyasmuchastheopportunitytodemandanexplanation
WhatIdidn’texpecttodiscoverwasthatshe’sbrilliant,funny,irreverent,andsexy.I’mnotsurewhat’sgoingtocomeoutofhermouth,nomatterhowmundanethequestion,whichissurprisinglyintriguing.Especiallygivenmypenchantforplanned,orderly,somewhatgenericinteractions.
ButSamisalmosttheexactoppositeofmy‘usual’.
Itellheraboutmentoringyoungmen,andherresponseisthatitmustseemaboutaseffectiveasswimmingupstream.Isharethattheclubmeetingtodaywenthaywireafterherappearance,andshegrinsandsays,“You’rewelcomeforaddingsomerazzledazzletoyourboringclubmeeting,”whilegivingmesomesassyjazzhands.
IcringeasItellher,“Youknow,theguyswerecallingyouSexToyBarbie,”butsheshrugs.
“I’vebeencalledalotworsebyawholelotbetter.”
Somehow,hourspass,andwe’restilltalkingaboutthisandthatandnothingatall.Iwanttohearmoreoftheoutrageousnessthatpassesoverherfull,pinklipsasifit’scompletelyreasonable,andIwanttogiveitbacktoher,makinghereyessparklewhenIsaysomethingshelikes.
“That’swhenItoldhersheshouldgoforthejugular.Cuthimoff,handlethingsherself,andifhe’slucky,maybehe’llgettowatch.Butnotouchingheruntilheearnsit.”Shegrinsevillyasshetellsmeaboutherrecommendationsforacustomerfromherquarterlyparty.
“Harsh,”Isaydryly.Sheshrugsandtiltsherheadcarelessly,notoffendedatmyjudgment.“You’reproudofyourself,aren’tyou?”
Sampreens,sweepingherhairoverhershoulder,andIcan’thelpbutfollowthedarkcurlsdowntowheretheybrushoverherfullbreasts.Thenecklineofherpinkjumpsuitistasteful,butIfindmyselfwatchingcloselyasshemoves,hopingitwilldipdownslightly.“Ofcourse.Ifhe’snotwillingtoputoutanyenergy,whyshouldsheputoutatall?”
“Doesthattrulysolveanything,though?”Idon’tknowwhyI’mchallengingher.Iactuallybelieveshe’srightandthatapartnershiprequireseffortfrombothparties.
“I’mnotgoingtofixhermarriageinahotelballroompartysurroundedbylight-up,vibrating,bedazzleddicksthat’llprobablymakeherfragile-egoedhusbandfeellikehe’sbeenreplacedbyabigger,betterversionoftheliteralonlythinghe’sgottooffer,becausefuckknowshe’snotofferinganythingelse.Notsupport,companionship,orevenhelp,thoughIhatethatwordinthatcontextbecausehe’snot‘helping’hermanagetheirrelationshipinanywayotherthantheonethatgetshimoff.”
Thepauseassheinhalesadeepbreathismarkedwithachangeinhertonetoonemuchmoreserious.Sad,even,ormayberesigned.“She’snotlookingfortherapy.She’slookingfororgasmsthat’llmakeherabletofaceanotherdaycoveredwithpeanutbutterresiduefromthelunchshemadeyesterday,areleasethatdoesn’trequireherbeingtouchedbyanotherhumanwhowantssomethingfromher,andpleasurethatdoesn’tcomeatthecostofbeingseenasselfish.”
Hereyesfalltothetable,herdarklashesflutteringoverthepinkrisinginhercheeks.Idon’tthink,don’tconsidertheconsequencesorcareaboutwhat’srightorwrong.
Instinctively,Ireachouttocoverherfidgetinghandswithmyown,gentlytracingalongthelengthofeachonewithmyfingertip.“Hey,areyouokay?”
Thestraightsetofherbackcollapsesasshesagsinonherself.“Yeah,sorry.It’snotyourfaultsomemenarebastards.Justhardtohearstoryafterstory,damnnearcopiesofthelast,allwhilethere’swhite,glitteringrhinestonessprinkledaroundlikebukkakeconfetti.”
Ichokeonmyownspit.“I’msorry,what?”
Whatshesaidseemstohavesunkinbecauseshelaughsalittleatherowndescription.“Iknow.Therewereactuallythree-foottallpeniseswithrhinestonecumshots.”Herbrowsrise,like‘canyoubelievethat?’
“Don’tthinkI’veeverheardthatwordcombinationbefore.”
Herdarkmoodislifting,butneitherofusmovesourhandsback.NowthatI’mtouchingher,thesparksbetweenusarepalpable.Icanfeelmybodyleaningtowardhers,mystomachpressingagainstthetable,tryingtogetcloserandcursingthetwofeetofwoodbetweenus.
“Soundslikefallingontothestageandspillingdildoswastheeasypartofyourday.Who’dhavethoughtapenispartywouldbethehardpart?”Mylipcurlsinasexysmirkatthedoubleentendre,mostlybecauseit’snotmyusualM.O.
Hell,flirtingisn’tmyusualstyle.Isorarelyallowmyselftobedistractedfrommysingle-mindedfocusonTheGentlemen’sClubandmygoals.
Herlaughisbrighter,almosttinklingthistime,andshepinsmewithateasinglightinhereyes.“Iseewhatyoudidthere.Youthinkyou’reclever?”
Igrin.“IknowIam.I’malsogood-looking,intelligent,generous,ambitious,andkind.Notice,Ididn’tsayhumblebecauseIthinkit’simportanttoknowyourgoodandbadqualitiesandbehonestaboutthem.Especiallywithyourself.”
Shenodsagreeably,thoughhersmilesaysshe’snotsureaboutmylayingitouttheresoboldly.“Goodandbad,yousay?Alright…I’msmart,agreatfriend,andafantasticlover.I’malsoaddictedtorealityTV,havetoworktofiltermymouth,andI’mapushoverwhenitcomestomymomandsister.”
Iblink,havingonlyheardonethingsheshared.Afantasticlover
Beneaththetable,mycockisrockhardandbeggingforattention.Andnotfrommyhandagain.ThisneedisnotaboutansweringanurgesoIcanmaintainclear-headedness.It’saboutthewomanacrossfromme.ThisdesireisforSamspecifically,withherwildhairandwildermouth.Iwanttotastethethingsshesays,dothethingsshewants,andexperienceherfully.
It’snotlikeme.Idon’tmakesplit-seconddecisionswithoutconsideringeveryangle,consequence,andpossibleresult.Butmaybe,justthisonce..
Idon’tthinkandrethinkandthenthinkoncemoreforgoodmeasure.Iact
“Wouldyouliketocontinuethisconversationupstairs?”Iaskcarefully,wellawarethatwhileshemightsayyes,oddsareequallygoodthatshe’lltorchmewhereIsit.Butfortunefavorsthebold,andI’mextremelyfortunate
Hereyesdiptomylipsandthenscanmyfaceinaninstant.Iawaitherdecision,tryingnottoscoopherupandmakearunfortheelevator.Thatwouldn’tbeproper,afterall.
“Youpromisethere’snosacrificialcultthing?Andthatyou’renotgoingtostealmykidneys?”
BeforeIanswer,she’salreadyrising.Iquicklyfollowhermove,tossingatwentytothetableandthentakingSam’shandoncemore.I’dliketosaywemakeourwaydiscretelytotheelevator,butthetruthis,we’renearlyrunningforit,andasthedoorsclose,trappingusinthesmallconfines,it’sSamwhomakesthefirstmove.
Shewrapsmytiearoundherhandandpullsmeintoherspace,plantingherbacktotheelevatorwallsothatIpressagainsther.There’sonlyafewinchesdifferencebetweenuswithherinherheels,andwithherfacetilteduptomine,Icupherjawwithonestronghand.Imoveinslowly,givingheranopportunitytostopme,butshemeetsmeinthemiddle.Herlipsaresweetandsoft,moldingtomineasIdelicatelyclaimhermouth,exploringandlearningher.
Samkissesmeback,moreaggressivelythanI’musedto,butIlikeit.Alot.Ishiftmyhips,myhard-onrubbingacrossherpelvis,andshegroansintooursharedbreath.Herheadfallsback,andItracekissesalongherjaw,downtoherneck.
“Pleasepromisemeyouknowwhattodowiththatthing.IfIhavetopulloutatoy,ImightaswelljustgohomeanddothisonmyownbecauseIknowwhatIlikeandI’vegotaninventory’sworthtochoosefrom.”Thethreatisreal,butgiventhecontinuedroughgroansshe’smakingasItouchher,shedoesn’twanttodothat.
Shewantsme.
AndIwanther.
“IknowwhatI’mdoing.”Thearrogantvowismadewithgentlekissestohermouth—theright,thenleft,thenfullycenteredasIletmytonguedivepastherlipstowritethepromisedeep.
“Thankfuck!”shesighsassherunsherfingersintomyhairandkissesmeback.
Whentheelevatordingsandthedoorsopen,wedon’tbreakapart.Notuntilavoicesays,“Gettingoff?”
IfeelSam’ssmilebeforeIseeit,butwhenIopenmyeyes,it’sjustasbrightandmischievousasIthoughtit’dbe.“I’mtryingto,butyou’recock-blockingmehere.AndIwantwhathe’spacking.”
ThewomanhuffsindistasteasSampullsmepasther.Habitsarehardtobreak,though,andImurmur,“Sorry,excuseus.”Theapologyisnotaccepted,andthewomangetsontheelevatorlookingasthoughweleftasplatteringofsexinthespacejustbybeinginthere.“Thisway,”ItellSam,guidinghertomyroom.
Imakequickworkoftheelectroniclockandholdthedooropen,waitingforhertodecideagain.Samdoesn’tseemimpressedassheenterstheroom,whichisoversizedanddecoratedinwhatadesignerwouldprobablycall‘modernluxury’.
Theking-sizebedhasmorepillowsthananytwopeoplemightneed,thewhitesheetsarethatperfectcombinationofcrispandsoft,andtheheadboardistuftedivoryvelvet.Behindthefloor-to-ceilingdraperyisaviewofthehotel’sgarden,whichcanbeperfectlyappreciatedfromthechaiseloungechair,andthedeskholdsalargeginger-jarstylelampalongwithmylaptop,whichsitswhereIleftitearlierwhenIwrappedupworktogodownstairsfortheclubmeeting.
NoneofthatmatterstoSam,ortomerightnow.
Iyankatmytie,blindlypullingtheknotfree,butbecomeinstantlydistractedwhenIseeSamreachingbeneathherhairtothenapeofherneck.“Letme,”Ioffer.
Shespins.“There’sasmallbuttonhere,andthenazipperontheside,”sheanswershelpfully.Thebuttoniseasilyconquered,butItakemytimewiththezipper,lettingthebacksofmyfingersbrushoverherskinandthesilkofherbra.Samdipshershoulders,lettingthetopfalltoherwaistassheturnsbacktofaceme.
Thepinkfabricispuddledaboveherhips,exposingthecleavagethat’sbeenteasingandtemptingmeallnight.Idancemyfingersoverhermounds,touchinghergentlyandenjoyingtherespondinggoosefleshthatrisesinthewakeofmytouch.
“Iwanttoworshipeveryinchofyou.Feel,taste,enjoyyourskinuntilyou’rereadyforme.”
There’sasassycomebackpoisedonhertongue,butinsteadofwaitingforit,Ikissherhardenoughthatwhatevershewasgoingtosaydisintegratesbetweenus,alongwithherjumpsuitasitfallstothefloorandshestepsoutofitwithoutbreakingourconnection.
Untilshepullsback,takingmyhandinherstoguidemetothechaise.Ifinallygetafulllookather.She’sstunninginhermatchingbraandpanties,whichareanudecolorafewshadesdarkerthanhertannedskin.
“Gorgeous,”Iwhisper.Hersmilesays‘Iknow’assheliesback.Herhairfansaroundherinadarkhaloagainstthenavyfabricofthechair.
Leaningoverher,Ilayalineofhot,wetkissesovertheexposedfleshofhershouldersanddownhercollarbones,gettingahintofherperfumeasIgetclosertoherbreasts.Iplantmykneebetweenherthighs,andherhipsbuckassherubsherselfonmyleg.It’soneofthesexiestthingsI’veeverseen.Andfelt,becauseIcanfeeltheheatfromhercore,theslicknessspillingfromhertocreateawetspotonthesilkofherpanties.
“Iwanttoseeyou,”Iconfess.Sherespondsinstantly,expertlyundoingherbraanddroppingittothefloorandthenslippingherhandsintothesidesofherpantiestowigglethemdown.Ihelpher,rollingthemdownherlegs,whichsheliftsintotheair.Ipressakisstoherankle…hercalf…theinsideofherknee.
Workingmywayup,Iletmyeyestraceoverhercenter.She’sgorgeoustheretoo—bareandpink,withshinyjuicescoatingherskin.Irepeatthekissesupherotherleg,wantingtoappreciatehereveryinch.
“CanItasteyou?”Iaskasmyfingersdrifthigherandhigher.Inresponsesherelaxes,lettingherlegsfallopentogivemefullaccess.IgroanasIsinktothechaisebetweenherlegs,givingmyselfroomtowork.Morekissesleadmetojustaboveherclit.Iusemythumbstospreadherwide,andasImeethereyes,Ilayalonglicktothesensitivenub.Shespasmsalready,notcomingbutoverwhelmedateventhegentlesensation.Still,shegrabsatmyhead,pullingmeinformore,whichIgladlydeliver.Itestandtease,learningwhatsherespondsfavorablyto,andthenslipafingerinsideher,curlingittopetalongherfrontwall.
“Yes,”shemoans,“rightthere…andlickmefast.”
Lovinghowboldsheis,Ithrustinagain,keepingmyfingertipwhereshewantsitasIfluttermytongueoverherclit.“Oh,oh,oh!”Herkeeningcriesgethigher-pitchedandlouder,andIcanfeelthetensionthroughoutherbodyassheridestheedge.Andthensheshuddersviolentlyandgroans,“Chance…”
Ikeepgoing,givingherasmuchpleasureasIcan,wantinghertobesatisfied.IfeellikesheneedsthisalmostasmuchasIdo.Especiallyafterthehighsandlowsofherday.
“You,”shesaysclearly.“Iwantyouinsideme.”
Shedoesn’thavetotellmetwicebecauseI’monthevergeofcominginmyslacksasitis.Makingfastworkofthebuttons,Ipullmyshirtoffandthendothesamespeedtrickwithmybeltandslacks.Overmyboxerbriefs,Igivemyselfafirmstroke,hopingtostaveoffatoo-quickrelease.Iwanttoenjoythis…enjoySamwrappedaroundmydick.
“Condom’sinmypurse,”sheoffers,pointingtoherbag.Iraiseonebrow,rememberingwhatelseisinherbag.Shesmiles,amused.“Differentbag.”
Igrabherpurse,lettingherdiginside.PartlybecauseIdon’ttrustthatthere’snotasingledildoinsideandIdon’twanttogiveitahandjobandpartlybecauseIknowbetterthantoinvadeawoman’sbag.That’sacrimepunishablebydeath.
Whileshefindsit,Ipushmyunderweardowntogivemydickafewmoreslow,tightstrokes.Theskinonskinofmyhandisall-too-familiar,andIwantmore.Iwanther.
“Gotit!”sheexclaims,holdingupafoilpacket.“Youwanttoputitonorwantmetodoit?”
Ireachforthecondom.“I’vegotitbecauseifyoutouchme,I’mgonnaexplode.”
ShegrinsandwatchesasIunrollthelatexovermylengthandlineupatherentrance,holdingsteadyandnotbreachingheryet.“Sam?”
Shenods,herwhiteteethdiggingintoherbottomlipandherdarkeyespleadingsilently.Ipushforward,slowlyfillingherinchbyinchassheenvelopsme.Pullingmedown,shetakesmyweightasIpresshertothechaise.She’spinnedbeneathme,impaledonme.
Neitherofussaysaword,butwesimultaneouslybeginbucking,chasingourpleasure.Oureyeslockforamoment,butthenSam’srollbackandIcan’tfocusbeyondthesensationscoursingthroughmybody.Ithrustfast,hard,deep,andoccasionally,Istaytheretogrindagainsther.
Toosoon,I’mwalkingarazor’sedgeandIknowmyreleaseisimminentandwon’tbestavedoffformuchlonger.Ifindarhythmwebothlikeandstaysteady,lettingitbuildbetweenus.
Iinterweaveourfingers,holdingthemaboveSam’shead,andsheliftsherchin,juttingitoutalmostinchallenge.DaringmetocomeorseeingifIcanfightitoff,I’mnotsurewhich.ButIwin,comingsuddenlywithaforcethatstartsdeepinmybelly.IcanfeeljetafterjetofcumfillingthecondomandhaveanerrantthoughtthatIwishIwerebareinsideher,fillingherwithmycum.Ijerkoncemoreandthencollapse,pantingheavily.
***
Samantha
Chancesnugglesuponthechaisewithme,ourarmsandlegsatangleandheadsperchedsidebysideonthechair’spillowaswerecover.Thatwas…wow.He’sdifferentfromhowIthoughthe’dbe.IguessIthoughthe’dbebossy,domineering,andoutforhisown.Probablyashittyassumptiononmypart,butthewholebigmanoncampusvibeofChanceleadingtheclubmeetingtodayisstuckinmymind.
Butinstead,hewasattentive,listenedtome,anddefinitelyfocusedonmysatisfaction.Idon’tknowwhenI’vefeltmorecherishedandappreciated,atleastphysically.
“Wow,”Imutter,andChancesmilesvictoriously.Halfdrowsyandblissedout,Isayphilosophically,“Didyouknowsexissomuchmorethanmostpeoplethink?It’sawholespectrumofactivities,styles,andthingsthatbringpeoplepleasure.”
Chance’ssmilefallsbydegreestobereplacedbyafrown.Onebrowliftedinquestion,hecarefullyasks,“Areyousayingthatwasn’tpleasurable?Becauseyouweremakingsoundstothecontrary.”
Shit,I’vehurthisfeelingsunintentionallybecausethat’snotwhatImeantatall.“Thatwasamazing,”Irushtoreassurehim.“Imeantthatpeoplelikeallsortsofthings.Kinks,fetishes,sweetandgentle,humiliatingandbrutal,andeverywhereinbetween.”
“Isthisyourroundaboutwayoftellingmeyouhaveafootfetish?”hesaysdryly,butIcanseethelightinhisblueeyesasherealizesI’mnottalkingshitabouthisbedroomskills.
“No,”Ianswer,laughing.“Thoughthat’sacommonone.IguessImeantmorethatyou’reaverythoroughlover.Idon’tthinkthere’saspotonmybodythatyoudidn’tkiss,touch,fill.Itwas…unexpected.Likeawholegirlfriendexperience.”
“Girlfriend?”heechoesvacantly.
Imeantittobeacompliment,butgiventhehorrorstrickenlookonhisface,hedefinitelydidn’ttakeitasone.“Don’tfreakoutonme,Chance.I’mnotmovingintoyourhouseorchangingmyrelationshipstatustoheartsandflowersaroundyourname.I’msimplywonderingifthat’syourstyle…yourthing.Ordoyousometimesexplore,experiment,andtrynewthings?Becausethatwasanewerthingforme.”Itrailoff,makingitobviousthatI’mbabysteppingtowardsomething.
Helooksatmecarefullyforasolidminutebeforeresponding.“Idon’twantabuttplug.”
Isnort-laughattheonelinehe’sdrawingbecausethatshouldbetheleastofhisworrieswithwhat’sinmygoodiebag.“Okay,buthowaboutforroundtwowetrysomethingthat’llmakeyourinnerboyscoutblush?Nopressure,nojudgment,justfuckmerough,hard,anddirty.Ibetyoudon’tgetthechancetodothatveryoften,orever,butIthinkIcanhandleyouatyourfilthiest.”
“Roundtwo?”
Inod.“Yeah,unlessyouneedmoretimetorecover.”Icuddleintohischesttogivehimafewminutes,buthe’sgototherplansinmind.
“Getonyourknees,”heorders.
Mywholebodyjerks,perkingupininterestatthechangeinhistone.Imove,sinkingtothefloorbesidethechaisewithmyassrestingonmyheelsandlookingathimexpectantly,firealreadyrelightinginsideme.
Hesitsuponthechaise,onelegoneithersideofme.Hiseyessearchmine,andIwatchashetakesaroughswallow,hisAdam’sapplebobbinginhisthroat.Icantellthisisalreadyadifferentvibeforhim,buthe’sinterestedforsure.“Iwantyoutopromiseyou’lltellmeifit’stoomuch.”
Ican’thelpbutsmileattheseriousnesswithwhichhe’stakingthis.It’ssexythathewantstobebossybutwantstorespectmetoo.Aperfectbalance…ifhe’sactuallyfilthy.
“Ipromise,andI’llalsotellyouifIcantakemore.”
Hislipsquirk,buthedipshishead,acceptingmyvow.Heleansbackonthechaise,onelegstretchedoutlongandtheotherfootonthefloor,spreadinghislegswide.Idrinkhiminwithmyeyes—tannedskinwithadustingofblondhairoverhisstrong,leanmuscles,hiscockalreadythickandleaking,andhisblueeyesfulloffire.
“Suckme,Sam.Swallowmewiththatsassymouthofyours.”Herunsathumbroughlyovermybottomlipandgripshimself,anglinghiscocktowardmymouth.“AndthenI’llfuckyourough,hard,anddirty,”herepeats,lettingmeknowheheardexactlywhatIaskedfor
Eagerly,Ileanforwardtolickalonglinefromhisballstothetip,savoringthesaltyfluidthat’salreadyleaking.“Mmm,”Imoan.“Holdmyhair.”
Idon’twaitforhimtogathermycurlsinhisfist.Idiverightin,takinghimindeepinonemove.Whenhisfingerstighteninmyhairinresponse,Igetalittlethrill.Controlisasexything.Hethinkshe’scontrollingmebytellingmewhattodoandguidingmyhead,butthetruthis,I’vegotallthepower,literallyincommandofthepleasureIgiveordon’tgive.
Itakehimintomymouthoverandover,droolcoatinghimandrunningdownmychin,butIcanfeelhimholdingback.Tensionisthreadedthroughhismuscles,andwhenIglanceuphisbody,Icanseetheoutlineofhissix-pack.Gaspingforbreath,Ipant,“Fuckmymouth.Iwantyouto.Youwantto.Icanseeit,feelit.Doit.Fuck.My.Mouth.”
“Goddamnit,”hegrowlsrightbeforeheunleashesthepunishingrestrainthehadonhimself.
Heslamsintomythroat,shudderingasheholdshimselfthereforasplitsecondbeforerepeatingthemove.Hefindsafast,deep,roughpacethatbringstheprickoftearstomyeyes,andIfighttokeepsuctionaroundhisthickness.Iloveitandmoanaroundhimtotellhimso.
Ifeelhimgrowevenharderinmymouth,andwitharoar,hejerksmeoffhim.“No,nottillIgetbackinthatcunt.”
Holy.Hell.TheBoyScoutisaragingnaughtyboyindisguise.Hemightbemydreamcometrue—sweetandfilthy.
Hegrabsatmybag,diggingforanothercondomhimselfthistime.“Getupthere,”hedirects,pointingatthechaisewithaliftofhischin.
Idon’thaveanysmartwordsthistime.IdoasI’mtold,asquicklyasIcan,lyingbackonthechaisewithmylegsopenwide.Islidemyfingersovermyclit,spreadingmyslicknessovermyentirepussy.I’montheedgealready,justfromhowsexysuckinghimoffwas.
Sheathed,heapproachesthefootofthechaise,hiseyespinnedtowhatmyhandisdoing.“Seeanythingyouwant?”Ioffer.
Inresponse,hegrabsbehindmykneesandjerksmedownthechaisesofarthatmyassishangingoff,butheholdsmetight,notlettingmedropaninch.Heguidesmylegsupontohisshoulders,whichputsmeinaslightlyupside-downpositionwithmyweightrestingonmyupperback,butitgetsmypussyatjusttherightlevelforhiscocktoslideintomeeasily.AcryofecstasyescapesasChancegripsmyass,hisfingertipsdiggingsharplyintothetenderfleshtoholdmeinplacesecurely.
Heslamsintome,poundingdeepashepullsmeontohim,fuckingmewhilemakingmefuckhimback.“Touchyourselfagain.”
IknowI’masloppy,wetmessalready,butIreachtwofingerstowardhismouth.Hedipsdown,suckingthemtocoatthemwithhisspit,andIusehissalivatorubovermyclit.Longswipesquicklybecomeblurringlyfast,shortstrokes,andthecombinationofChancefuckingmeandthefocusonmyclitistoomuch,puttingmeonedgeinaninstant.“More,”Ibeg,notevensurewhatIwantmoreof.Allofit?Him?
Chancelickshislips,andIpause,lettinghimdripmorespitontomyclit,greedilyusingitformypleasure.Hegrowls,hiseyeswatchingmymovementshungrilyashishipspistonfastandhard.“Come,Sam.Iwanttofeelthisprettypussycomeonme.”
Iflyapart,shatteringintoamillionpiecesandgushingfluidsoverourconnection.Somewhereintheblacknessofmyownecstasy,IfeelChancejerkingasheexplodesinsideme.“Fuck,”hegrunts.
Oncethesparklesleavemyvision,IlookupatChanceashehelpsmelowermylegs.Imustlookwild—panting,sweaty,andsmilingcrazily—becauseheasks,“Youokay?”Evenwhenhe’srough,he’scaring.
Inod,stretchingluxuriously.“Mmm,morethanokay.You?”Heflashesagrin,butthere’sashadowofdoubtinhiseyesashescansme.“Hey,I’mgood.Thatwasamazing.Justlikeroundone,onlydifferent.”
Hesighs,clearlycontentbutatthesametimeinhisthoughts.“Yeah,different.IguessIneverthoughtI’dlike—”
Hetrailsoff,lookinglikehe’sdoingsomesoulsearching.
“Nojudgment,justtryingnewthings,”Iassurehim.“Doesn’tmeanit’syourthing,butatleastyoutried.Ithinkyoucoulduseashowerandsomeroomservice.Yeah?”
Aftercarecantakemanyforms,butatitscore,it’stoprolongtheintimacybetweenpartnersaftersexandprovideasenseofconnection,anditshouldgobothways.Istarttogetup,andChancetakesmyhand,helpingmetomyfeet.Standingbeforehim,Ilifttokisshimgentlyandpressmyhandtohischest,overhisheart,whichisthuddingrapidly.
“Whatifitismything?”hewhispers,soundinglikehisentireself-viewjustwenthaywire.
IsmileasIrunafingeralonghisjaw,feelingtheslightbeginningsofafiveo’clockshadow.“NaughtyBoyScout?Ithinkthatmightbemynewkink,”Itease.CHAPTER6SAMANTHA
“DoIseriouslyhavetogowithyou?Forreal?Youcoulddropmeoffathome,yaknow?”Oliviasaysflatly.Herannoyedtonedrivesmeinsane,butifImentionit,she’llsimplyquitspeakingatall,soIgripthesteeringwheeltighterandforceasmile.
“Homeisintheoppositedirection,andalittletimeinthesunshinewilldoyousomegood,”Ireply,tryingtosoundpositive.“Don’tworry,youcanstareatyourphoneattheparkaseasilyasyoucaninyourroom.”
Shehuffsoutatorturedsigh,andwithoutlooking,Icansensehereyeroll.“Whatever,”shemutterstothewindow.
Greatjob,Samantha.Sarcasm’sexactlywhatOlivianeeds.
Thechastisementofmyselfdoesn’thelp.Iknowbetteranddobetterwithpracticetherapysessions,butwithmyownsister,Ifallintosiblingbitch-festhabitsfromouryoungerdays.
“Look,I’msorry,”Iadd,tryingtocoursecorrect.“ButLunaaskedifIcouldmeetherandGracieatthepark.Iswearit’llbefast.”IhopeIcankeepthatpromise,butLunadidn’tsaywhatsheneeded,onlythatsheneededme.
LunaHarringtonismybestestfriendinthewholeworld.She’stheoddtomynormal,thesweettomysalty,andtherideordietomyI’llkillforyou.She’salsoafantasticaunttoGracie,herhusband’sbrother’sdaughter,andthat’snoeasyfeatbecauseGracieisalotofbold,unfilteredenergypackedintoatinyeight-year-oldbody.
“Luna?Youdidn’tsaywewerechillingwithher.Should’aledwiththat.”ThoughOlivia’smoodbrightensconsiderably,I’mleftwonderinghowmyownsisterhatesmyexistenceandthinksI’mannoyingbutsomehowfindsmyartist-slash-weirdobestietobecoolandworthhertime.
Itdoesn’ttakeapsychologydegreetofigureoutthatI’malittlejealous,butifOliviaseesagoodrolemodelinLuna,I’mgladforthat.
Wefindaparkingspotandwalkdownthepath,throughthetreeline,andintothegreenopeningthat’sareprievefromthecity’shustleandbustle.Pointingtoashadedareaonthefarsideofthepark,Isay,“Theretheyare.”
Asifthey’vebeenwatchingforus,Gracieissuddenlyrunningtowardus,screechingatthetopofherlungs,“Saaaa-man-thaaaa!You’reheeere!”Nippingatherheelsisabrown,fluffydognamedPeanutButterbutwhoismorecommonlycalledNutbusterbecausehehasabadhabitofrunninghead-first,centermass,intohischosentarget.ButLuna’sbrother-in-law,Kyle,neverseemstoteachhisdoganymanners.Thoughthedog’squestionablebehaviormightnotbeallKyle’sfault,becauseI’vemetNutbusterseveraltimes,andmyprofessionaldiagnosisisthathedoesn’thavetwobraincellstorubtogether.
“Hi,honey,”Igreettheblonde,ponytailedlittlegirl,openingmyarmsfortheincomingtacklehug.Shesmellslikesweatandsunshine,andvaguelylikemangos,soIknowthey’vebeenherelongenoughtohavealreadyeatenapopsiclefromthevendorwhosellsthemfromhiscooler-accentedbicycleasheridesaroundthepark.WhenIletGraciego,IshieldmycrotchfromNutbuster.“Andyoutoo,MisterPB,”Iaddwithscratchestothedog’shead.“Goodboy.”
“C’mon!AuntLuna’sbeenwaitingonyouforeverrr,”shetellsme,hervoiceloudenoughthathalftheparkcanprobablyhearherasshedragsmetowardLuna.“Hi,Olivia,”Graciethrowsoverhershoulderwhensheremembershermanners.
“Hitoyoutoo,kid,”Oliviaanswersdryly.Igiveheralookofapology,butyoucan’treallyblameGracieforbeingexcited.Theparkisoneofherfavoriteplaces,andI’moneofherfavoritepeople.Ofcourse,IthinkGraciemeetsanewfavoritepersonjustabouteveryday.She’soverlyfriendly,scarilymature,andit’salwaysahoottohearwhatcomesoutofhermouth.
Luna’sperchedonasmallblanketinthegrasswithahalf-paintedcanvasleaningupagainstthetreeinfrontofher.Sheholdsafingerupasweapproach,herotherhandgentlylayeringacrylicpainttothecanvas.It’sastill-lifeofthepark,butrealismisn’tLuna’sstylesoinherversion,thetreesareavibrantfuchsia,thegrassishighlighteryellow,andtheturquoisepathwayisdottedwithblackandwhitefigures.
Usedtoherhyperfocus,GracieandIgiggleaswemimicLuna’sone-fingercommunication,doingittoeachotheroverandoverwithincreasingdegreesofpseudo-annoyanceandrapidlyspreadinggrins,butOliviaiswatchingLunawithraptattention.
“IsthatsupposedtobePeanutButter?”Oliviaasksacoupleofminuteslater.“Thefurtextureisperfect.”Havingheardhisname,thedoghopsup,standingtalltoputhispawsonOlivia’sbellyandpantforattention,whichshegiveshappily.
Lunasmilesasshepauses.“Thanks!Itisthislittlefella.”Shemakesakissysoundtowardthedog.“Hey,guys,”shesays,finallygreetingus.
Ilowertotheblanket,sittingnexttoLuna,andOliviafollows.Graciecouldn’tsitstillifshewantedtoandresumesbouncing,Nutbusterdoingthesame,probablythinkinghe’ssupposedtocopyher.
“Hey,girl,thatlooksawesome.Personal,professional,orcommission?”Iask.
Lunaisanartistofvaryingspecialties.Wemetwhenshedidtoursattheartmuseum,butsince,she’stakenoverasamanagerforalarge,privatecollection,soshe’sgottheclassicsonlock.Shealsodoesdigitalartforherwildlysuccessfuloriginalgraphicnovelseries,Alphena.ButIthinkthere’sapartofherthatlikessmearingpaintoncanvasjustasmuch.
“Personal,”sheanswers.“Hey,Olivia!How’slife?”
It’sagenericquestion,butOliviatakestheopportunitytopissonme.“Annoying.I’vegotthisone”—shethrowsathumbmyway—“haulingmearoundlikeI’mherlatestfashionaccessory,Mompawningmeoffsoshecangetherfreakonwithherlatestboytoy,and—”
Idon’tletherfinish.Shecantalkshitaboutmeallshewants,butMom?Hell,no.“Olivia,MomhasdatedexactlyonemansinceDadleft,andshedeservestobehappy.Andyeah,togetherfreakon.”
“What’sthatmean?Gechurfreakon?”Gracieechoes,andIfreeze,realizingbelatedlythatIshouldn’thavesaidthatinfrontofherconsideringsheechoeseverything,evenifsheonlyhearsitonceinpassing.Butherfollow-uplittlegirlgigglesarewildandloud.“Psyche!Iknowthatmeanss-e-x.Sodoesscrewing,banging,andfu—”
“No!”Lunashouts,lungingforGracieandcoveringhermouthwithapaint-smearedhand.“That’sanadultword.”
“UncleKylesaysit,”GracieanswersbehindLuna’shand,addingashrugof‘whocares’forgoodmeasure.
“He’sanadult,”Lunaarguesasshemovesherhandaway.“Well,mostly.”
KyleisNutbuster’sdadandtheyoungestbrotheroftheHarringtonfamily.He’salsotheblacksheepforreasonsIdon’tunderstand.Lunasayshedoesn’tplaywellwithothers,mostlyhisfather,whohaslotsofexpectationsofwhatbeingaHarringtonentails.OnesthatKyleessentiallysaid‘fuckyou’toandrodeoffintothesunset.Hedidn’tevencometoCarterandLuna’swedding,thoughitwaslast-minuteandabitofafarce,butstill…heshould’vecome.
Tryingtogetusbacktothepoint,IremindOlivia,“HaveyouevenmetMarvinyet?OrareyoujustpissedthatMom’sdating?”Shedoesn’tanswerotherthantorollhereyesandscoffhaughtily,butIcantranslateherteen-speak.“That’swhatIthought.Couldyoumaybepullyourheadoutofyourownass,realizethattheworlddoesn’trevolvearoundyou,andbehappyforMomthatshe’sfoundsomeoneshewantstospendtimewith?”
“Whatever,”shesnarls,jumpingupfromtheblanket.“C’mon,kid.Let’sgosomewherethatfocusingonourselvesisn’tseenasself-centeredbynarcissistswho’reblindtotheirownshortcomings.”
Withthat,OlivialeadsGracieandPeanutButterawaytowardtheplaygroundequipment.
“WhydidIwastemysixth,seventh,andeighthbirthdaywisheshopingforasibling?”IsighasIfloptotheblanket.“Ishould’vewishedforaBarbiedreamhouseoracat.”
Lunagrimacessympathetically.“Troubleinparadise?”
Sheknowsthatmyhomelifewasn’tavacation,butMomdidthebestshecould.IjustwishOliviacouldseethat.“Ican’twithher.Idon’tthinkIwaseverthat…ugh,”Ifinishwithagrowl.Butamomentlater,I’masking,“Issheright?AmIdoingthewhole‘pot-kettle-black’thing,tellinghershe’sactingliketheworldrevolvesaroundherandsimultaneouslyactinglikeIthinkitrevolvesaroundme?”
ItrulywantLuna’sopinion,butI’malreadydoingsomeself-analysistoo.Luna’squietforamoment,andifitwereanyoneelse,I’dbeworriedtheydidn’twanttoriskhurtingmyfeelingswithanuglytruth.
ButLuna’smorelikelydoingathoroughcharacter,behavior,andintentionanalysis.“Nope,you’renotself-centered.”Myreliefisshort-lived,though,becausesheadds,“ButIdon’tthinkOliviaiseither.She’sworriedabouthermomdatingforthefirsttimeafteranuglydivorcewhereshegotasurprising,up-close,andpersonallookatwhatdouchecanoesmencanbefromtheonemanwho’ssupposedtobeherrock.Maybeshe’snotjealousofyourmom’stimebutistryingtoprotecther…awkwardly.”
Huh.Ihadn’tthoughtofitfromthatangle,thoughIdefinitelyshould’vebecauseitactuallymakesalotofsense.OliviablamedMomafterthedivorceandhadalotofanger,butmaybeshe’sfinallyrealizingthatDadcarriedwaymorethanhalftheresponsibilityforimplodingtheirmarriage.That’senoughtomakehermadalloveragain,andprobablyabitjadedwheremenareconcerned,rightasMom’stakingachanceonanotherone.
Iturnmyhead,examiningthefluffycloudsintheblueskyasImullthatover.“Okay,Dr.Harrington,whataboutthis?”
Itellherabriefversionofmyday—andnight—yesterday,fromrushingintothehotel,fallingonstageamidaflurryofdicks,runningintothehotspeakerinthehotelbar,andgoingupstairsforthebestsexI’veeverhad.
“Youwhat?”Lunascreechesincredulously,hereyessowide,Icanseethewhitesallthewayaroundthebluecenters.Ithinkherreactiontomybest-sex-evercommentisabitdramatic,butsheadds,“Flatonyourface,dickseverywhere,spotlightonyou,yourself,andyou,andJaxxhadtorescueyou?”
Oh,she’sreactingtomysextoydebacle.Oddlyenough,thatseemslikealongtimeagoafterthedoubleroundofsexwithChance.
“Yep,”Itellher,“Andasbadasitsounds,itwasonebillionpercentworsetoliveit.Theonlythingsthatmadeitbetterweretheorgasmsandearningmytwo-thousand-dollarbonus.”Idropthatbombshellonpurpose,alittlehumblebragamongfriendswhotypicallycelebrateeachother’swins,butshe’sfocusedonsomethingelse.
“You’renotusuallyintothehookupscene.Hemust’vereallycharmedthejumpsuitoff’ayou.”Shehelpedmepickoutthepinkjumpsuitforthemeetingandknowsit’snotexactlyashoveitupandshoveadickinsidetypeofoutfit.NotthatI’vedonethat…inawhile.
“Hedid,”Iconfess.“Didn’thurtthathewasablond,blue-eyedsexgod,either.”Ablissed-outsmiletakesmyfaceasIrememberChancelaidbackonthechaise,waitingformetosuckhimdown.
“I’vegotoneofthoseathomeandknowhowpersuasivetheycanbe.Cartercanhakunama-tata’sanytime.”Luna’sdescriptionofherhusbandasablond,blue-eyedsexgodjarsmemorethanherbastardizationofaDisneymoviesayingbecauseshewatchesmorekidmoviesthananyoneIknowanddoesn’thavekidsofherown.
Butcometothinkofit,ChancedidvaguelyresembleCarter,inthat‘Hamptonsinthesummeronaprivateyacht’way.
“Yougonnaseehimagain?”
Iprobablyshould’vesaidsomethingtoChancebeforeleavingthismorning,butheseemedtoogoodtobetrue,andinmyhazymind,Ihadn’twantedtheawkwardmomentof‘I’llcallyou’whenwebothknewhewouldn’t,soI’dquietlysnuckout,leavingnothingmorethanalipstickkissonhisshoulder,whereitstuckoutofthesheetsasheslept.Somethingtoldmethatit’dbothirkandamusehimtowakeupandfindalong-wearingmarkstaininghisskin.
“Nah,oneanddone.Isnuckoutformywalkofshame,notthatI’mashamedofathingafterthatawesomenight.Butwe’dneverworkanyway,andI’vegottofocusonschoolandmakingbank.ThegoodnewsisthatI’mgivingnoticeatthestore.BedroomHeaveniswaymoremoney,inmyareaofexpertise,andflexibleforclasses.Andtheydon’ttreatyoulikeyou’reasdisposableasthestraws.”
“Savetheturtles!”weintonetogether,asillyhabitwepickedupanytimesomeonementionsstraws.
ThenLuna’sbrowsliftalmosttoherhairline.“Areyousure?Hugecongratsonthebonus.”Shesmilesassheacknowledgesmyboast.“Butittakesalotofhustletosellthatmuchallthetime.Whatifyoucan’tdothatagain?”
Inod,reasonablysureofmydecision.Jaxxwasright.Sexsells,andorgasmssellevenmore.Andworst-casescenario,Icangetanotherjobintheblinkofaneyeifeverythinggoestohell.Beingacollegearea,therearealwaysjobsavailableatretailstores,restaurants,andcoffeeshops.It’snotideal,butit’ssupportedmewellenoughthelastfewyears.
“Speakingof,couldIinterestyouinournewVelvetreamRabbit?”
“What?No!”Lunaprotests…toomuch.
“Babe,Iknowyou’renotthatinnocentanymore.YouandCartergetuptosomeprobablyillegal,definitelyimmoral,andtotallyunholythings,andyoucan’ttellmeotherwise.”I’mmostlyteasingbecauseLunawasavirginbeforeshemetCarter,butshe’sdefinitelymadeupforlosttimewithhernewhusband.
Lunalaughs,coveringhermouthwithherpaint-splatteredhandasthoughshe’salittleembarrassedbymyassessment.“Nope,maybe,andyou’redaaaamnright.ButIdon’tthinkweneedtoaddanythingbuzzytotherotation.”
“Buzzy,non-buzzy,sucking,thrusting,numbing,sensitizing…we’vegotitall.Directandindirectstim,Bluetooth,remotecontrolled,andmore.”Iaddalittlebitofasnakeoilsalesmanvibetomylistofpossiblecontenders,butLuna’snothavingit.
“Thanks,butnothanks.Carter’senoughforme.”
Shakingmyhead,Igiveitonemorego.“It’snotabouthisnotbeingenough.It’smoreaboutaddingsomespice,someva-va-va-voom,somesurprise.”
“Mm-hmm,”shemurmursdisbelievingly,butshe’ssavedfrommynextroundofsalestacticsbyOliviascreeching.
“Youfucker!”
IlookoverandnearlypanicbecauseIthinkshe’stalkingtoGracielikethat.Butthankfully,thatassumptionisquicklyassuagedbecausethoughshe’slookingdownatthegirl,she’stalkingtoPeanutButter,whomGracieislyingoverprotectivelyasifOliviaisgoingtoattackhiminsteadofviceversa.PeanutButterdoesn’tseemconcernedwiththeyellingandislickingGracie’sfacelikethisisanewgame.
Ijumpupandrushover,Lunarightbehindme.“What’swrong?”
Oliviaiswipingawayatherjeansandkicksoffhertennisshoeasshetellsme,“Iwassittinghere,mindingmyownbusiness—”
Gracieinterruptsandcorrectsher,“TextingonyourphonetoMercedes,whiningabouthowbitchySamanthais.Whichsheisnot.”GraciethrowsherhandsonherhipsandglaresatOliviainmydefense.
Lunawhisperstothegirl,“Don’tsaybitchyaroundyourdadeither.”
Oliviagritsherteethandhammerson,“Mindingmyownbusiness,andthatmonsterpeedonmynew550s.”Hershoesarechunky,white,grass-cutting,Dad-styleandcurrentlycoveredinyellowtintedliquid.“Canwegonow?”
Withoutwaitingforananswer,shestartsstompingacrosstheparktowardthecar,herwholebodygoingupanddown,gettingtallerandshorterwitheachstepdependingonwhetherit’sherbarefootorshoedfoot.
“GuessI’mleaving,”ItellLuna.“Sorry,Gracie.Maybenexttimewecanswing?”
“Okay,”shesaysunhappily.“Olivia’smadatNutbuster,huh?”
“Yeah,butIthinkshe’smadatawholelotmorethanthat,”Lunasayswisely.Tome,sheadds,“Hey,Carter’stakingmeiceskatingatthemalltonight.Wannacome?Zack’llbethereforaminute.He’sgotsomeprospectpropertyforCartertolookat.”
ZackisLuna’sbrother,herhusband’sbusinesspartner,andshehopes,mysoon-to-be-boyfriend.ButZackandIarepoliteacquaintanceswithLunaincommon,nothingmore.
“Idon’tknow—”
“I’llsendyouthedetails.AndyoucanprobablysellaproductortwotoCarterandZack.Ifnothingelse,they’llbuyyourwholestocktogetyoutostoptalkingaboutit,”sheteases,knowingthatI’llshowupifthere’sachanceIcouldgetanothersale.
“Fine,seeyalater!”Ishoutback,nearlyrunningtocatchupwithOlivia.
Thedrivehomeiscompletelysilent.Olivia’sangerisheavy.Herlipsarepressedintoastraightline,andshe’spointedlylookingoutthewindowinanefforttoavoidmeentirely.
WhenIpullintothedriveway,Itrytoapologize.“Olivia,I’msorryaboutyour—”
Shecutsmeoff.“Youowemenewshoesifthesedon’tcleanup.They’dbetterbepristine.”Andwiththatdeclaration,sheslamsmycardoorandhobblestothehouse.
SeeingthatMom’shomenow,Iturnoffthecarandheadinsidetoo.Idon’tknockoranythinglikethat.MomtoldmewhenImovedoutthatthiswillalwaysbemyhomeandtotreatitassuch.Admittedly,knockingonmyownfrontdoorwouldbestrange,soI’mgladshemadeherfeelingsaboutitabundantlyclear.
“Mom?”
“Inhere,”shecallsfromherbedroom.
Istandinthedoorwayforamoment,takingherin.Momisbeautifulinaquiet,understatedway.Herdarkhairflipsandflopsaroundherchininamessybob,herfreckleshavebeenjoinedbysomewrinklesovertheyears,andherfaceisbareofmakeupbesidesmascaraandtintedChapstick.Heroutfitiscomprisedofout-of-style,dark-washskinnyjeans,Birkenstocksandals,andahigh-neckT-shirt.NothingaboutMomisloudorattentiongrabbingotherthanherkindheart.
Andthebeamingsmilewithastrangleholdonherfacerightnow.
“Lookslikeyourdatewasasuccess,”Iventure.
Somehow,hergringrowsevenwider.“Itwas.Marvinmadeusdinner.He’sagrillmasterofsorts.Hasasmoker,aTraeger,aBlackstone,andmaybesomeotherthing?Ican’tremember,allIknowisthatI’veneverhadchickenthatjuicyanddelicious.Andthenwewatchedthesunsetandthestarscomeout.”
Shestopsthere,andIprompt,“Andthen?Idon’tneeddetails,butdidyouhaveagood,verygood,orvery,verygoodnight?Fairwarning,ifitwaslessthanstellar,youdeservebetter.”
ShegigglesinthatwayIswearI’veneverheardfromherbeforeandthenemphaticallyholdstwothumbsup.
“Enoughsaid,”Itellherwithanansweringsmileofmyown.
I’mhappyforherandhatetoburstherbubbleatall,butIthinksheneedstoknowaboutOlivia’sreactiontotheovernightdate.“Oliviawasokayatbrunchtoday,butLunasaidsomethingthatmademethink.Doyouthinkmaybeshe’sworriedaboutyourdatingbecauseshedoesn’twantyoutogethurt?Imean,Dad’sanassanddidarealnumberonusall.MaybeOlivia’sfinallyrealizedthatandisworriedthat’llhappenagain?”
Momsitsheavilyontheedgeofthebed,hereyesfallingtoherhandsinherlap.“Idon’tknow.I’vetriedtalkingtoheraboutitsomanytimes,butsheshutsmeouteverytime.Orblowsmeoff,laughinglikeit’snobigdealwhenIknowitis.”
“Keeptrying,”Iadviseher.“Shemightnotactlikeit,butshehearsyou.Andseeingyoumakeyourhappinessapriorityisagoodexampleforher.AslongasthisMarvinguytreatsyourightandyoukeepsmilinglikeyouwerewhenIcameinhere,she’llcomearound.Eventually.”
Icrossmyfingers,holdingthemupforMomtosee,andshelaughsalittle.“Honey,I’vegotmyfingers,toes,knees,andeyescrossedthatthisgoeswell.I’mnotmadeforthisdatingstuffanymore.Oneofmyfriendsdatedaguy,thenhedisappearedonher.Ghosted,Ithinkshecalledit?”shesays,lookingtomeforconfirmationthatshe’susingthewordcorrectly.“Andthen,monthslater,she’smovedon,hasn’tgivenhimathought,andhemessagesheroutoftheblue.Shesaiditwas‘zombie-ing’orsomething?”Inod,agreeingthat’swhatit’scalledandthatit’sawful.“Butyou’llneverguesswhathemessaged!ItwasapictureofhispenisandthelettersDTF.Canyoubelievethat?”Shedidn’tevenknowwhatitmeant,andIcertainlydidn’t,sosheGoogledit.”Shemakesafaceofscandalizedconfusion.“Likedidhereallythinkshewasgonnabethatdesperate?”
“Sadly,yeah.Heprobablydid,”Ireply.“Andunsoliciteddickpicsareridiculouslycommon.”
Mom’sconfusionmorphsintoanger.“Haveyougottenone?Fromwhom?I’llkickhisbehind.”
Ilaughatherindignationonmybehalf.“Morethanone,Mom.Ridiculouslycommon,”Irepeat.“Iusedtoengage—sendbackdickpicsfromtheinternet,tellthemtheyshouldgetthatcheckedout,orsendratingslike2/10orthefingersone-inchapartemoji.”
Iholdmyhandup,demonstrating.“Butnow,Ijustblockandmoveon.Idon’thavetimetofixthatkindatwistedthinkingforguyswhodon’tthinkthey’redoinganythingwrong.Andmymentalhealthassistancecostsmoney.I’mnotgivingitawayforfree,”Ijoke,bothofusawarethatallmycounselingsessionsarestrictlyforpracticeandwithotherpsychologystudents,notactual,payingclients.Yet.
“That’smygirl.Usingyournoggin,”shetellsmeproudly.“Andstayawayfromboyslikethat.Anyway,I’llseeifIcangetOliviatotalktomeorlistentome.Orhell,beinthesameroomwithoutmymerepresenceannoyingher.”
Ismilegrimly.“She’llcomearound,Mom.Eventually…maybe…hopefully.”
ThedecreasinglikelihoodismercilessbutaccurateconsideringOliviaisjustasstubbornasMomandIare.CHAPTER7CHANCE
“Weshouldcoordinateourtiesbetter,”Evansaysashecheckshimselfinthetestfeed.We’retenminutestogo-time,andbythispoint,thingsareroutine.Wehaveanear-prosetup—goodlighting,excellentmicrophones,andtwohigh-qualitycamerasfeedingintoourlaptops.Allwehavetodoisplugandplay.
Westartedourpodcastacoupleofyearsago.It’sabitofa‘whichcamefirst,thechickenortheegg’typedealwithus,onlythechickenisthepodcastandtheeggistheGentlemen’sClub.Wedreamedthemuptogether,awaytomentoraselectfewrightinourownbackyardsandsimultaneouslyhelpawideraudience.They’vegrownindividuallyinfitsandspurts,sometimesonerequiringmoreofourattentionthantheother,butwedoourbesttogrowinanintentionally-diversified,well-roundedway.
“Whatdoyoumean?”IaskasItweaktheringlightthat’sonmyleft.Itmovesaninchover,eliminatingashadowthatwasstretchingacrossmycheek.Good.Iglancedownatmyredtieandshrug.“Icanchangeifyouthinkitmatters.”
“IfyouhaveaDukeblueonelikemine…”Evancomments,buttrailsoffashefidgetswithhislaptop.
He’slikelyalreadyforgottenhissuggestion,butIgetupandgotomyofficetograbanothertieanyway.OfcourseIhaveanavyblueone,orcloseenough.IpullitaroundmyneckandquicklydomyfavoritedoubleWindsorknotbeforegoingbackouttotakemyseat.“Better?”Iask,holdingmyhandswidesohecanseemycoordinatingtie.
“Perfect,”Evansays,hiseyesneverleavinghisscreen.“Sonofabitch!”hehissessuddenly.
“What?”Inmychair,acrossthetable,Ican’tseewhatEvan’supsetabout,buthiseyesareflickingleftandrightashereadssomething.
“Fuckingtrolls.”Hehitsabuttononthekeyboardharderthannecessary.“Nothingtoworryabout.Let’sdothis.”
“Yousure?”Iask.He’sobviouslyupset.I’mguessingit’soverafanletterifhe’stalkingabouttrolls.Wegetpositiveonesthathypeusupandprovideinspirationforfutureshowtopics,butalongwiththosecomeafairshareofnegativeonestoo.Peoplecallingusnames,sayingwe’refullofshit,andthatwe’recoattailridersofrealmenlikeJakeMcGibbons.Wedoourbesttoletthoseslideoffourbacks,butsometimes,it’shard.
Evanmust’vegottenoneofthose.
Inresponse,hehitsabuttonandtheopeningthemetoourpodcastplays,andthelittlelightabovemycameraturnswhite,showingthatI’montheprimaryfeed.
“Goodevening,everybody,andwelcometoanotherepisodeofTwoMenAndAMic.Hereweoffernothingbutadvice,encouragement,andthesimpletruth.I’mChanceHarrington,andwithme,asalways,ismybestfriend,EvanWhite.”
AnhourfliesbywithEvanandmebanteringbackandforth,andbeforeIknowit,Evanisdoingoursign-offandturningoffthelivefeed.
Thestillnesswhentheshowendsisalwaysabitjarring.It’slikethelackoftalkingissoloud,almostroaringinmyears,andmywholebodyfeelson-edgelikeIcouldtakeontheworld.
“Greatshow,man,”ItellEvan.
Heleansbackinhischair,handsbehindhisheadwithhiselbowsspreadwide,andgrins.“Yeah,I’mprettygoodlikethat,”heagrees.
IchuckleathisteasingbragasIgrabmyphone.Wehaveahardandfastrulethatwekeepphonessilentandoutofsightwhilewe’reon-air,soI’mnotsurprisedthatIhaveabunchofnotifications.Butthetextsfrommybrother,Carter,dosurpriseme.
Youavailabletonight?Gotsomethingtoshowyou,butLunaandIaretakingGracieiceskating.Swingbytherinkaround7?
Therearetwomorewiththesamebasicmessage.Guesshedidn’tbothertotuneintotheliveshowtoday,notthatheeverdoes.Ortheon-demandversionslater.Idon’tthinkCarter’severlistenedtooneofmypodcasts,orifhehas,he’snevermentionedit.Andhewould,ifonlytotellmewhatIcould’vedonebetter.
Carter’smyolderbrother,notquitethegoldenchildofthefamilysincethatwouldbeCameron.ButCarter’sdefinitelythesilverchild,andthoughI’mthirdinlineofoursiblings,I’mnotthebronze.Thathonorfallstomysister,Kayla.Thentiedfornomedals,there’sKyle,theblacksheep,Cole,thevanisher,andme,thedismissed.
Yeah.Seeyouat7.
Isendthereply,notexpectinganythingfurther.WhateverCarterwants,he’sprobablyalreadymadetheassumptionthatI’llbethere.He’susedtopeoplejumpingwheneverhesaysto,evenifI’mnotoneofthosepeople.ButhethrewoutthebaitheknowsIcan’trefuse—myniece,Gracie,andCarter’swife,Luna.OurwholefamilyprotectivelyralliesaroundGracieatalltimes,eversinceCameronlosthiswife,butit’sadmittedlyabitlikeplayinghotpotatobecauseshe’swithadifferentfamilymembernearlyeveryday.AndLunahasmybrotherwrappedaroundherpinkyfinger,whichishilarioustowatchbecauseIneverwould’veputthetwoofthemtogether,buttheymakeanoddbutcutecouple.
***
Walkingthroughthefrontdoors,I’mimmediatelyhitwithablastofcoldair.TheWestlakeWarriorsaren’tthebestyouthicehockeyprograminthestate,butthey’vegotanicefacilitywithabright,cleanentranceareathat’sseparatedfromtheicebythickPlexiglass,andcream-coloredtileisonthefloorbeforeyougettotheskatesarea.
Glancingover,theiceisbusy,butnotsocrowdedthatyoucan’tmove,exceptalongtheboardsinapackedoval.Infact…
“Hey!”afamiliarvoicecallsout.“UncleChance!”
Asmilebreaksoutonmyface,andwhateverCarter’sgotplannedfadesawayasmyniececomesclumpingacrosstherubbermattedareaofthelobby,barelystayinguprightinhericeskates.Imeethermorethanhalfwaytogatherherupintomyarms.“Ooof,you’regettingbig,babygirl!”IsayasIshakeherarounduntilshegiggles.“How’dyougetsotallwhenIjustsawyouacoupleofdaysago?Youmust’vegrownthreeinchesatleast!”
“It’smyskates,silly!”Graciesays,grinning.
Ifeigncompletesurpriseandconfusionandgrabherleg,holdingituptostareathericeskateasthoughI’veneverseensuchamarvelousinvention.“This?Theymakeyoutaller?”
Shakingherhead,shelaughshard.“No,theymakemeskatelikeaniceprincess,”sheexplainswithatiltofherhead,lookingatmelikeI’mcompletelystupid.
“Ah,mm-hmm.Isee,”Isayinmybestmadscientistimpression.
“You’remyfavoriteuncle,”shewhispers.
“Heardthat,younglady,”Cartersaysbehindme.
Gracie’seyesgowide.“Oopsie!Imeantyou’reallmyfavoriteuncles,andI’myourfavoritegirl,right?”ShemightaswellbebattingherlashesatCarter,butthebestpartisthatifhedoesn’tagree,she’llflipthescripttothreateningtotakeouthiskneecaps.Gracie’slearningfromthebestofthebestandisskilledatknowingwhentocharm,whentothreaten,andwhentocutyourlosses.
“Ithinksheshouldbealawyer,”InotetoCarter,whonodsagreeably.
“Orapolitician,”headdsoutofthesideofhismouthwhereonlyIcanhearhim.“Gracie,canyougocheckonLunaforme?She’snotthebestskaterandcouldprobablyusealittlecheerleaderhypefrommyfavoritestevergirl.”
Graciebeams,proudattheassignmentandthetitleCarterbestows,andclompsofftodohisbidding.
“Wellplayed,”Ipraise.
Carterglaresatme,onebrowliftedina‘shutthefuckup’move.“Comeon,Zack’sheretoo.”
CarterdirectsustoatablewhereZack,hisbestfriendandsometimesbusinesspartner,ispeeringatastackofprintouts.Hisglasseshavesliddownhisnose,buthe’stoofocusedtopushthemup,insteadrunninghishandsthroughhishair.Iwonderifherealizeshowmuchhelookslikehissisterrightnow,whohasepisodeswhereshefallsintohergraphicnovelworldandseemsalmostcrazedwiththealternativereality.
“Hey,man!”Isay,notsureifhe’llhearme.Buthelooksupeasilyandsmiles.
“Goodtoseeya.Checkthisout,guys.”Zackturnsoneofthepapersaroundtoshowusarealestatelisting.“Thisisgonnabemynextdeal.”
Aquickglancetellsmethatit’sacommercialproperty.I’mfamiliarwiththeareabecauseit’snottoofarawayfromtheGentlemen’sClubheadquarters.“Stayinginthearea?”
Zackisaprofessionalrealestateinvestoranddeveloper,andheactuallyfoundthebuildingwerenovatedintotheclub.Insteadofinvestinghimself,hechargedusasmallfinder’sfee.EvanandImadethebuy,andnowwehaveourdreamset-up.I’mnotsurprisedZackfoundanotherprospectnearby,consideringtheneighborhoodisgoingthroughamajorrejuvenation.
“Yeah,wantedtoseeifyoumighthaveanyinsightonthesellerorproperty?”heasksme.“Becauseitlookslikeaquickflip.Inandoutinamonthortwo,tops,”hetellsCarter.Iguessthisoneisajointventureforthem.
“Sorry,neverevendrivenbyit,soIdon’thaveanytop-secretinsiderhintstohelpyoumakeadeal,”Isay.“Butmakesureyouselltosomeonewho’llbeagoodneighbor,”Iwarn.
Truthis,I’mnotworriedaboutanypotentialpurchaserbeinggoodforus,I’mmoreconcernedthey’llbeunderstandingofourbusinessmodelandnotcallthepoliceonthe‘herdsofyoungmengallivantingaroundthestreets’asourmembershavebeencalled.
“Willdo,”hepromises.
Theykeeptalkingabouttheproperty,andslowly,myattentionwanderstotheicefullofskaters.IseeLunamakingherwayaroundtheoval,herarmsoutreachedforbalance,andIcan’thelpbutsmileattheunsurewayshe’swobbling.
Mysmilemeltsamomentlater,though,whenIseeGracieskatingsmoothlyandholdinghandswithadark-haired,beautifulwomaninpainted-onjeans,anivoryV-neckT-shirt,andastackofgoldnecklacesagainstthebareskinofherchest.
SkinI’vetouched.SkinI’vetasted.
“Whatthefuck?”Imurmur,theunusualcursewordfallingoffmytongueeasilyandgarneringCarterandZack’sinstantattention.
“What?”Carterasks,hiseyesfollowingmygazeandlikelythinkinghe’llseeGraciedoingsomethingoutlandishhe’llhavetoapologizefor.
“Thewoman…Sam…what’sshedoingwithGracie?What’sshedoinghere?”I’mstammering,ablendofconfusion,worry,fear,andshockswirlinginmygut.
What’sgoingon?HowisSamwithGracie?Didshefollowme,stalkme,orsomethingevenmoresinister?I’vereceivedsomeawfulhatemailbutneverbeenatargetlikethis…whereawomanshowsupwithmyfamilyafterahook-up.Orwhatifshewasaset-upallalong?
I’mupanddodgingthecrowdonmywaytosaveGracieintheblinkofaneye.Istepontotheiceinmyshoes,fightingtostaysteadyandkeepingmyattentionlockedonmyniece.
“Gracie!”Ishoutacrosstheice.Shelooksup,beamingwithhappinessandthenlaughingalittleatmeontheicewithoutskates.“Comehere,now.”Myvoiceissharp,garneringtheinterestofotherskaters.
Iholdmyhandsout,encouraginghertomyside,butseehersqueezeSam’shandinstead.Forherpart,Samseemsshockedtoseeme—hereyeswide,andhermouthopeninanO—oratleastshe’sagoodactress.ShepullsGracietightertoherside,almostprotectively.Butwhat’ssheprotectingherfrom?Certainlynotme.
She’sthethreat.CHAPTER8SAMANTHA
Istareinshockatthemenstandingattheedgeoftheice.OneisCarter,Luna’shusband.Another,Zack,Luna’sbrother.Andthethird?
Chance.Fromlastnight.
Helooksfuriousandterrifiedallatonce,likehemightshovemetotheice,grabGracie,andmakeamisguidedrunforitacrosstheslipperyicebecausehe’sactuallyontheicewithoutskates.
Whatishedoinghere?AndwhyishewithCarterandZack?Andmostimportantly,howthehelldoesheknowGracie’sname?Becauseshemightnotbemyactualniece,butI’llfighttothedeathbeforeIletsomebodykidnapher,evenifsheisamonstersometimes.
“What’sgoingon?”IasksharplyasIskatecloser,keepingatighthandonGracie,whoseconfidenceisbetterthanherability.
Chanceiswearingdarkbluejeans,ablackbutton-downshirtopenedattheneck,anddressboots.I’mguessingthisishisversionofcasualbecausethisoutfitdoesn’tincludeatie.Hishairisslickedback,hisblueeyesareflashing,andhisjawisclenchedtight.
“Comehere,”herepeats,andmybodyautomaticallyrespondstotheorder.
“Notyou,”Chancesays,hisnarrowedeyesnotmissingmyreaction.“Gracie,comehere.”
Lunaskatesuptomyside,andCarterwalksontotheice,demanding,“What’swrong?”
“Getyourhandsoffher,”Chanceorders,reachingforGracie.Hepullsherawayfromme,slidingherbehindhisback,effectivelyputtinghimselfbetweenGracieandme.
“Hey!”Iyellsharply.“Whatthehell,Chance?”
“Youknowhim?”Lunaasksme.“Andyouknowher?”sheasksChance.
“Wemetyesterday,”hetellsherflatly,thoughhiseyesneverleavemine
“Wait.You’rethe…”Lunagasps,turningtowardSam.Sexgod,shemouths,puttingtwoandtwotogetherinstantly.“Oh,myGod!Sam,doyouknowwhoheis?”
“Chance?”Iansweruncertainly,feelinglikethat’ssomehowthewronganswer.
“Yeah,ChanceHarrington.Mybrother-in-law.”
Theworldstopsspinning,timestandsstill,andifitwasn’tformykneesbeingsolidlylocked,I’dprobablyfalltotheice.
“No,he’snot,”Iargue,hopingthisissomejoke.IdidnotsleepwithCarter’sbrother,especiallyconsideringhowverylittlesleepingwedid.
“Guys,let’stakethisoverheretodiscusswithoutanaudience,”Cartersuggests.“Grace,canyouskatewithZackforaminute?”
Zackblinks,glancingdownathisnon-skatecoveredfeet,butthenseeingCarter’sgrimexpression,henodsandsays,“Surething,man.C’mon,Graciegirl.”
Oncetheywalk-skateoff,withZackholdingGracie’shandssoshecanshowoffsomenewtrickskills,CarterlooksfrommetoChance.He’salittlesloweratputtingittogether,butrealizationisdawningonhisfacetoo.Chancespeaksfirst.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Offended,Iinformhim,“Iwasinvitedbymybestfriend.”ThenIthrowoutanaccusationofmyown.“Youdidn’ttellmeyourlastname.Andespeciallynotthatit’sHarrington.Ineverwould’ve…”Itrailoff,notsayingwhatwedid,butsayingitallthesame.Notthatanyoneneededconfirmationwhenit’sthisobvious.
“Idon’tmakeitahabittogiveoutmywholeresume…name,address,networth,andsocialsecuritynumber.Especiallytowomenwhorunoutinthemorning.”
Fireflashingbetweenus,chestsrisingandfallingwithaccusationsandwordsunspoken,I’mconfusedashell.ItseemslikeChanceistoo.
“Didyouknow?Isthissomesortofstunt?”heasksquietly,andIcansensethatthisishistrueconcern.
“Ihadnoideawhoyouare,”IsayasIshakemyheadwildly.“Fallingonstageamidaseaofpenisesinfrontofaroomfullofpeoplewasn’tonmybingocard.Neitherwasgoingtoyourhotelroom,”Iconfessquietly.“Luna,I’mgonnago,”Itellher,andthen,asfastasIcan,Iskateofftowardthefarsideoftherinkwherethelockersare.
IleftChancethismorning,andnowI’mleavinghimagain.ChanceHarrington,Ithink,fillinginhislastnameandtryingtomatchitupwitheverythingLuna’stoldmeabouttheman.There’snotalot—businessman,startedhisowncompany,mentorsyoungmen,andisagoodsoldiertypewithrules,responsibilities,andexpectationsattheforefrontofhismindatalltimes.
Exceptlastnight,thatwasn’twhohewasatall.Hewasflirtyandsexy,gentleandthenrough,worshipingmybodyoneminuteandthenpushingmetomylimitsthenext.
Chancehastakenthecircularroutethatdoesn’tinvolveiceandmeetsmeinthelockerarea.“Sam…Samantha?”hecorrectshimself.“Ifyou’dsaidyourfullname,Imight’verealized,butLunanevercallsyouSam.Atleastnottome.Ididn’t…”Heshakeshisheadregretfully.“Canwetalk?”
“Aboutwhat?You’reaHarrington.Isellsextoys.There’snothingtodiscuss,”Isummarizeneatly.
“Exceptthereis,”hecounters.“Likehowsoftyourskinis,howIwokeupwantingtodrinkyoudownthismorning,andhowafteronenight,you’reallI’vebeenthinkingabout.”Hiswordsheatmybody,butthentheembersaredashedoutwhenheadds,“Whatkindofwitchcraftisthat?”
Isnort,tryingtostayamused.“Ifyouthinkthat’switchcraft,youshouldspendsometimewithacovenbecauseahookuphasnothingtodowithit.Ididn’tsneakyoualovepotion,didn’tbewitchyouwithmypussyoranythinglikethat.I’mnotplayingsometwistedgame.MoreliketheSistersofFatearefuckingwithme.I’msureasshitnottryingtotrapyou.Ididn’tevenknowwhoyouwere.”
He’squietforamoment,hisblueeyessearchingmydarkones,andthenhesighs.“Youleft.Why?”
It’smyturntobepensive.“Ididn’twanttodothe‘I’llcallyou’thingwhenIdidn’tthinkyouwould.Ileftsoyouwouldn’thaveachancetostringmealong.”
He’sstaringatmelikeIgrewasecondheadoutofmyshoulder.Finally,heletsoutalong,slowbreath,thenholdshishandout.“Let’sstartover.Hi,I’mChanceHarrington.”
Ilookathisoutstretchedhandforamoment,notsurethisagoodidea,butwithLuna,Carter,andZackwatchingfromafar,makingmoreofascenedoesn’tseemlikeagoodplaneither.SoIshakehishandgently.“Hi,I’mSamanthaRedding,butyoucancallmeSamifyouwant.”
“Nicetomeetyou,Samantha.”Hesaysmyfullnamewithalittleextraemphasisonit,daringmetocorrecthim.“Wouldyouliketogoiceskatingwithme?”Hisfaceiscompletelystraight,butIcanseethejoketeasingathislips.We’reatanicerinkandjusthadabigblow-up,soofcourseitseemsliketheonlylogicalquestion.
Exceptit’snot.Atall.
Thiswholethingmight’vebeenabigmix-up,norealfaultoneitherofourparts.ButIstillfeelbetrayed.Itdoesn’tmakesense,buthisholdingoutonsomethingasbasicashisnamefeelslikeabigomission.Thoughitdidn’toccurtometothinkthatuntilIfoundoutwhathislastnameis.
AndI’mnobetter,sneakingoutthewayIdid.Heshouldberunningforthehills.
Buthe’sheadingforthedeskwheretheyrentskates,eventhoughIdidn’tagree.Visually,Imeasurethewidthofhisshoulders,thetapertohiswaist,thelonglegsthatIknowaremuscledandcoveredwithblondhair.ButwhatI’mreallylookingatisthemaninsidethesexybody,tryingtofigurehimout.
Chancemakesquickworkofputtingskateson,standssure-footed,andholdshiselbowouttoescortmetotheice’sedge.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskblankly.“This”—Imovemyhandbetweenus—“doesn’tmakesense.Lastnightwasgreat,butwebothknowwhatitwas.It’sokaytowalkaway.”
“AndifIdon’twantto?”hecounters.
Idon’thaveananswertothat.Instead,Ifindmyselftakinghiselbowandlettinghimleadmeontotheice.
Thedinofthepeoplearoundusistheonlysoundaswemakeaslowlooparoundtherink.I’mstilltryingtofigureouthowIendeduphere.
Notliterally,asintheicerink.ButwithChanceHarrington.
IgaveLunasomuchshitwhenshegotwithCarter,buthim?IthreatenedtofeedCartertoaherdofpigsifhehurther.ProbablynotthehealthiestreactionIcould’vehad,butIhaveissueswithmenaftermydad’sshenanigans,andoneswithmoney?Evenlesstrustworthy,inmyexperience.
I’mgivingChanceawayout—nohardfeelings,noharm,nofoul.Whyisn’thetakingit?
“I’mrememberingallthethingsLuna’ssaidaboutyounow,”Chancesaysafterabit.“ButI’dliketohearitfromyou.You’reastudent,right?”
“Yeah,Idon’tonlyselldicks,”Isaydryly,assuminghe’stryingtomakemeintosomethingI’mnot.I’mnotashamedofmyBedroomHeavensalesgig,butit’snotsomethingmostpeoplehaveapositivereactionto.I’vedefinitelylearnedthatoverthelastcoupleofweeks,andgiventhatChanceisprobablyreplayingmystagefallandsubsequenttalkaboutsextoys,it’salogicalleap.“Don’tgettooexcited,though.I’mapsychologygradstudent,focusingonintimacyandrelationshipcounseling.Inotherwords,I’mgonnabeasextherapist.”
Idon’tneedapsychologydegreetoknowI’mtryingtoscarehimoff.Testinghimandpushingbuttonstogetareactionlikemyveryown,small-scale,single-subjectscienceexperiment.
“You’llbegoodatthat,”herepliesevenly,nottakingthebait.“Whatdrewyoutothatspecialty?”
Iglareathim,madthathe’sshowingactualinterestinme.Frustrated,Igritout,“Becausewhenyouchoosesomeonetobeyourpartner,you’regivingthempoweroveryourheart,yourhead,yourlife,whilealsotakingresponsibilityfortheirstoo.Inlittlewaysandinbigones.Itbecomesyou,me,andwe,sochoosingwiselyandmakingthatrelationshipthebestitcanbeisimportant.Intimacy,whichisn’talwaysaboutsex,isacornerstoneofthatfoundationforhappiness.”Myanswerisdeliveredasthoughwe’refightingeventhoughChancehasn’tsaidanythingtothecontraryyet.
“Thatmakessense,”hesays.
Thetoo-simpleresponsetosomethingI’msopassionateaboutisanothernailinChance’scoffinuntilheadds,“Whatifyourpartnershipisn’tbuilton‘you,me,andwe’inthatway,though?That’stooidealistic,don’tyouthink?Forexample,whataboutamarriageofconvenienceorcompanionshipratherthanforlove,orformoneyandpower?Noteveryoneisluckyenoughtofindsomeutopic,blissful,love-of-their-lifeconnection.”
Chancelooksatme,skatingsmoothlyashegivesathoughtful,well-constructedargument.I,however,stumble.Bothmyfeetandmybrain,nothavingexpectedanintelligent,thought-provokingresponse.Especiallyoneinwhichheeffectivelycallsmeahopelessromantic,somethingI’veneverbeenaccusedofbeing.
Icatchmyself,findingmymentalbalanceasChancegrabsme,hisgripstrongashehelpsmeresetphysically.Bothskatesbeneathme,Iagreewithhim.“Thatcanwork,aslongasbothpeoplehavetheireyesfullyopenaboutwhattheirrelationshipisandisn’t.Unfortunately,that’srare.Moreoften,onepersonisgivingtheirall,diggingintotheirsoultosupportapersonwho’snotinvestedatall,oronlyshallowly.”
“Soundslikesomeoneyouknow,”Chancesayswisely.Hehasn’tletgoofmyhandsinceIalmostfell,butitdoesn’tfeellikehe’sunsureofmyskatingabilitiesbutrather,justwantstotouchme.Itfeels…good…warmandbuzzyfromwhereourskintouches,andmymindisaspinningtornadotoo,tryingtomakesenseofeverywordhesays.
Isighandnod.“Mydad.Hecheated,left,andMomhadtopickupthepieces…oftheirrelationship,ofherownbrokenheart,ofmyandmysister’sanger,ofourwholelife.Itshouldn’tbelikethat.Foranyone.”
“I’msorry.”
Twolittlewords,buttheypatchalittleripinmysoulthat’sbeentornforalongtime.EspeciallywhenChancestopsusandwrapshisarmsaroundme,huggingmetightly.Skaterspassbyusonbothsides,butIignorethem,sinkingintohim.Itshouldn’tmatter—they’remeaninglesswordsfromanearstranger—buttheydo.
Toosoon,Ipullback,swipingatmyeyesthoughtherearenotears,onlytheechoesofonesI’vecriedinthepast.“It’sokay.Hisloss,becauseMomisdoinggreatnow,evendatingagain.”
“Youtoo.You’redoinggreattoo,”Chanceadds.
Askaterbreaksinbetweenus,andIlookdown.“UncleChance!Skatewithme!Ilovethissong!”Graciedemandsloudly.Notwaitingforananswer,shegrabshishandanddragshimoffasthelightsbecomeadiscothequeswirlofcolorsoverthewhiteice.
He’sgrinningatGracie,anotheroneoftheminionsshehaswrappedaroundherfinger,butheglancesupatmewithawarmsmiletoo.RealizingthatChanceiswaymorecomplexthanIgavehimcreditfor,Ismileback.IkindahatethatImisjudgedhimsoharshly,especiallywhenIhateitwhenpeopledothattomeallthetime.Buthe’smadeofsturdierstuffandisforcingmetogivehimachance.
I’mglad.
Ituneintothemusic,realizingit’sclassicHipHopHarry,Who’sNext?andtheotherskatersarechanting‘go,go,goHarry’.Butinsteadofspotlightingsomeoneinthemiddleoftherink,itseemslikeeveryskaterisgettingfasterandfaster,swooshingbymeinaninfiniteracetonowhere.
I’mdoingmybest,butmostly,I’mwatchingChanceandGracie.They’readorable,andwhenChanceswoopsherupintohisarmstoskateasthoughthey’redancing,I’mcharmedbeyondbelief.He’sskilled,obviouslybetteratskatingthanmostoftheothersontheice,andwhenhemovesthemtothecenter,farawayfromeveryoneelse,andspinswithGracieinhisarms,happylaughterescapesfromherinbigbellylaughs.
Suddenly,Carteristherealongsidethem,takingGracie’sotherhand,andtheyhaveaniecesandwich,withherskatingbetweenbothherunclesinthecenteroftherink.
Itbecomesacompetition,eachuncleshowingoffamoveforGracieastheremixgoesonandon.Fromnearby,IhearLunasquealwithdelightasshebreaksoutherphoneandtakesfootageofthetwounclesbattlingeachotherfortheirniece’sheart.
Idon’tblameher.It’slikeanuncleshow-offchallengeandit’sthecutestthingI’veeverseen.
Chance,alongwithbeingagoodskater,isactuallyareallygooddancer,too.Hedoessomelawnmower-starterandsprinklermoves,butonhim,theylookcharming.
Andthenthere’sthebootieshaking,whichisdonewithasillysmirk,showinghe’snottakinghimselftooseriously,buthisassdoesn’tgetthememoandlooksdownrightsmackableasIskatepasttostandbesideLuna,who’sstillvideoing.
Butthehottestthinghedoesisthefootwork.He’sobviouslyplayedhockeyorsomethingbecausehe’snear-tapdancingontheice,feetcrossingovereachotherandbladesglidingforwardandback.Icanonlyimaginewhathecoulddointruehockeyskates.
“Thinkthey’regoingtomeasureeachother’shockeysticks?”Lunaquestionswithagrin.
“Theyalreadyhave.They’rebrothers.They’vehadeachotherfiguredoutsincetheywerekids—thebuttonstopush,theweakspotstoexploit,andthestrongpointstousewhenconvenient.”Andthenwithagrinandeyeroll,Iadd,“Andyeah,theyprobablyliterallymeasuredtoo.It’saguything,Ihear.”
LunaandIlaughatourownjokes.
I’mmid-laughwhenablastofpainshootsthroughmylegandI’msuddenlyflyingthroughtheair.“Whatthe—”MyownoutburstiscutoffwhenIlandass-firstonthecoldicewithanoof!“Shit!”Ihiss.
“Oh,myGod!”Lunacries,droppingdownbesideme.
Inthenextinstant,Chanceslidesuptomeonhisknees.“Samantha!Areyouokay?”
“Yeah?Ithinkso,”Ianswer,butwhenImovemyleg,sharppainshootsthroughmykneeandIcryout.“Whathappened?”
Lunaexplains,“Akidwasgoingreallyfastandclippedyouashepassed.”
Chanceistenderlyprobingatmykneewithsurefingers.“Idon’tthinkit’sbad.Maybesprainedortwisted?”
Istraightenmyknee,notingthatitfeelsweirdandalittlepainful,butnothingIcan’thandle.“Helpmeup?”
ChanceononesideandLunaontheother,theygetmeverticalontheslipperyice.Islowlyandcarefullyputweightontomyfoot,butmyskatewobbles,whichhurtsmykneemore.
“Nope,notdoingthat,”Chancemurmursrightbeforehescoopsmeintohisarmsprincess-styleandeasilyskatesacrosstherinkwithme.“Comingthrough,”hewarns.Thankfully,peoplegiveusawideberth,especiallygiventhatthebladesofmyskatesarefloatingthroughtheairatkid-height.
Inthelobbyarea,Chancesetsmeonabenchandkneelsinfrontofmetoremovemyskatesandthenhisown.Seeinghimkneelingbeforemewouldnormallybesexy,butrightnow,I’mtoofocusedonmykneeandmakingsurethathispullingofftheskatedoesn’tirritateitbecauseitreallyhurts.
Luna,Carter,Zack,andGraciesurroundus,andwhileLunafussesabouttakingmetoanurgentcare,it’sGraciewhomakesmefeelbetter.
“Thatkidwasflyingandplowedrightthroughyou!Likeka-blammo!”shesays,offendedonmybehalf.“Wantmetotakehimoutforyou?Icanmakeitlooklikeanaccident.”
“Grace!”Carterscolds.“That’snotfunny.”
ButIgiveGracieachinnodofappreciation.“Nah,I’mgood.OrIwillbe.I’mmadeoftougherstuffthanthis.”Iwavemyhandatmylegdismissivelyeventhoughithurtslikeasonofabitch.
“So,urgentcareorambulance?”Lunaasksme.
Shakingmyhead,Isay,“Neither.Ijustwanttogohome.”
“Youheardher.We’reout,”Chancesaysasifthere’sanyotheroption.Hestands,scoopingmeintohisarmsoncemore.Ihangon,myfacenearlyburiedinhisneck,wherehisspicy,woodsycolognefillsmynose.
WegetastandingOasChancestompsacrosstheareawithmeinhisarms.Thiscoulddefinitelybemorediscreet,butI’malsonotcomplaining.Except…“Whyaretheyclapping?”
“Sportsthing.Applaudfortheinjuredplayerastheyleavetheice.Notintosports?”hequestions.
“Nope.”
Hecarriesmeoutsideintothestill-blisteringhotevening,andIscrunchmyfacefromthesuddenheatafterthecoldice.
Chanceapproachesasporty,matte-black,two-doorLexus,somethingfancyandsportybutnotridiculouslyso,andswingsthepassengerdooropenwhilebalancingmeinhisarms.Hecrouchesdowntosetmeinsideandbuckletheseatbelt.
“Icouldgetusedtothis,”Itease.“Alittlebumpandsuddenly,I’mroyalty.”
Chance’sbrowfurrows.“Youshouldbetreatedthiswayallthetime,Samantha.”
Shockedathismatter-of-factnessaboutsomethingthatdefinitelydoesn’thappen,Istareathimopen-mouthed.Oblivious,hestands,closingthedoorcarefullytomakesurehedoesn’tslamadoorhandleintomykneeandrunningaroundtothedriver’sside.Oncebuckledinhimself,hedrivesoffintothenight.
Buthedoesn’taskformyaddress.Instead,heconfidentlydrivesmesomewhereelse…straighttohisplace.CHAPTER9SAMANTHA
Mykneehurts,butIthinkIowethatspeeddemonofakidaheartythankyoubecausehisskate-byassaultgotmehere.
ToChance’scondo.
Whenhescoopedmeuptotakemehome,theexpressiononLuna’sfacestoodouttome.Itwasacombinationofyougo,girlandbecareful!
TherideismostlyablurasItrytofigureoutwhyChanceissodevotedlysteadfasttotakingcareofmewhenlastnightwassupposedtobeaone-and-done.Heseemsoverlyupsetattheminorinjury,too—hisjawsetinstone,hishandsgrippingthesteeringwheel,andifIsomuchasmove,hiseyesjumptomyface,readingitforanysignofaworseningcondition.Ifthatkidhadbeenanadult,I’mnotsurewhathewould’vedone.
“I’mokay,”Ireassurehim.
“Iknow.”
IfheknowsI’mfine,he’ssurenotactinglikeit.Hewhipsintoaspaceinaprivategarage,throwsthecarintopark,andisaroundtomysideofthecarinablink.Hepicksmeupagain,andinsteadofarguingthatIcanprobablywalkonmyown,Igowithit,decidingtoseewherethisleads.
ItoldChancetotrynewthings,somaybeIshouldtakemyownadvice.Thoughit’salittletragicthatbeingrespectedandtreatedwellisanovelexperience.ButI’mnotgoingtolookagifthorseinthemouth.
Hecarriesmetotheelevatorandsays,“Reachinmybackpocket.Keycard’sinmywallet.”
Idoasinstructed,holdingabluecarduptothescannerandpressingthebuttonforthefifthfloorwhenhetellsme.Whenthedoorsopenagain,it’sdirectlyintoChance’scondo,soIguesshehasthewholefloor.
Idon’tgetmuchofanopportunitytolookaroundashestridestothecouchandsetsmedownonthebutterysoft,warmbrownleather.AllIcanseearethefloortoceilingwindowsalongthefarwall,whichlikelylookoutoverthecity,thoughthey’recoveredbylinencurtainsrightnow.
Chancepropsmykneeupwithapillow,butforanunknownreason,it’snottohisliking,andhetakesthepillowbackout,fluffsit,andthenslipsitbeneathmykneeagain.
Ican’thelpbutsmileathisnursingskills.“You’regoodatthis.”
It’sastatementoffact,buthesharesasthoughIaskedaquestion.“Meandmybrotherswerebasicallylive-actionWrestleManiawhenwewerekids,exceptitwasallreal,notchoreographedfakery.Andmoreoftenthannot,wewantedtohurteachotherforsomeimaginedwrongorslight.Stupidkidsalwayswantingtobekingofthemountain,”hefinisheswithalookofhumorinhiseyes.Amomentlater,itevaporates.“How’reyoufeeling?”
“ThinkI’llhavetocancelmymorningruntomorrow,”Ideadpan.Hiseyesjumptomine,theworryplaintosee.“Kidding,”Ipromise.“Occasionalyoga?Yes.ButIdon’trununlessit’stocatchthealcoholtruckoncampus.”
“Thewhat?”HelooksconcernedImight’vehitmyhead,giventhegibberishI’mtalking.Butit’sarealthing
“Thinkicecreamtruck,butforstressed-outcollegestudents.Randydrivesthroughthequad,playingearly2000ship-hop,andpeoplerunoutfromeverydirection—fromhousing,classes,thecafeteria,andmore—togetinlineforabeerorWhiteClaw.Whentheweather’snice,hesellsalcohol-infusedOtterpopstoo.That’sabouttheonlythingIrunfor,andit’snotoften.”
I’mlaughingatmyownlazinessbytheendofmyexplanation,knowingthatIhaven’trunsince…Idon’tevenrememberwhen.
“Alcoholtruck?”Chanceechoes,shakinghishead.“What’lltheycomeupwithnext?Isthatevenlegal?”
“Don’tknow.Personally,I’mhopingforbrowniesondemand.Youcangetcookiesallhoursofthenight,butbrownies?Gottamakeyourown,andIdon’thavethetimeorpatienceforthat.”
Hechucklesandstepsback.“Letmegetsomeice.”
Whenhedisappearsaroundacornerintowhatmustbethekitchenorabararea,Itaketheopportunitytolookaround.Everythingisneutral,mostlycharcoalgray,ivory,andbrown.Thereareveryfewknick-knacksorthingswithanyrealpersonality,otherthantheshelvesalongonewall,whicharefilledwithbooksthathavebeenmeticulouslysortedbycolorandsize.Iwonderifhe’sreadthemallorifthey’restrictlydécor?
“Whatdoyouthink?”Chanceasks,comingbackwithaZiplocbaggieoficeinhishands.
“It’sprettymuchwhatIexpected,”Iconfess.“Clean,non-offensive,luxury…clean,”Irepeat.
“Idon’thavekidsandGracenevercomeshere,soit’seasytokeepitclean.”Somethinginthewayhesaysitmakesmerealizethathetakescareofhisspacehimself.There’snotamaidcomingtopickuphisdirtysocks,andthat’ssexyinanoddlymatureway.
Idecidetotesthimaboutthebooks.Pointingatthewall,Iask,“Whichisyourfavorite?”
Hetiltshishead,consideringtheentiretyofeachshelf.“ProbablyTheHitchhiker’sGuidetotheGalaxy.”
I’msurprised,notonlythathe’sreadthemall,whichtellsmesomethingimportantaboutChance—he’snotonlyinterestedinappearances—butthathisfavoriteissolighthearted.Ithoughtforsureit’dbesomethingself-improvementbasedandsuper-seriouslikeHowtoMakeYourFirstMillionbySixteenorCharmYourWaytoACultFollowing
“Ithinkmycurrentmost-readistheDSM-5.I’mbasicallymemorizingitatthispoint,”Ijoke.Ashelaystheiceovermyknee,Isay,“Thanks.YouknowIcould’vegonetourgentcare.”
“Oryoucouldletmetakecareofyou,”heargues.Hischarminglogicisfaultless,soIleanbackonthecouchandlethimgentlyprobearoundtheicebagattheedgesofmyknee,whichisprobablyswellingbeneathmyjeans.
“Youneedtotaketheseoffsowecanseehowbaditis,”hesuggests,adarkthreadofdesirewovenintohishuskytone.Ifhethinkshe’sbeingsubtle,he’sdeadwrongbecauseIcanreadhimlikeoneofhisbooks.Hewantsme
Ilickmylips,thespacebetweenuswarmingquickly.“Chance,youknowwhat’llhappen.”
Thewarningfallsondeafearsashereachestoundomyjeans.I’mnotworriedaboutme,butrather,him.Hehadmixedfeelingsafterwhatwedid,oratleasthowwedidit,andIdon’twanttobesomethingheregretslater.Buthe’sabigboy,andgiventhesuretyofhisfingers,Ihelphimtakemyjeansoff,beingextra-carefulovermyknee.
Hesitsonthecouch,pullingthepillowintohislapandlayingmylegoveritoncemoresohehasanupcloseandpersonalview.
Mykneecapispinkfromthecoldice,butthesurroundingskinisalreadybruisingaslightpurplecolorandit’sabitpuffy.“Shit,Samantha,”herumblesashisfingersbrushoverthediscoloredskin.“Youwantmetorunyouabath?Youcouldsitandrelax,seeifthathelps?”
Ishakemyhead.“Notnow,”Isaysoftly.“Maybelater.”
Hecontinuestestingaroundmyknee,histouchdelicatebutstillbuildingheatthroughoutmybody.Hispinkiefingerdancesuponmyinnerthigh,andIstifleamoanasmyotherkneefallsopentogivehimspacetomovehigher.
Thisisnolongeraboutmyinjuredknee.Notevenzeropercentaboutit.Thisisallabouthunger.
Mynipplesarepearledup,theirbraprisoncausinganacheastheydemandtobeletfree.Mypantiesarewetbetweenmythighs,andIwonderifChancecanseethatfromhisvantagepoint.
Inadesperateattempttoslowthisdownandgivehimtimetothink,Iforceconversation.“Theclubmeeting.IrememberLunasayingyoumentoryoungmen.Wasthatwhatyouweredoing?”ThestaccatobreathinessmakesitobviousI’mfightingforcontrol…ofmyownwilddesires.
Chancedoesn’tslowhissoftexplorationofmythighasheanswers.“Mm-hmm.Ournewclubfacilityopenednottoolongago,andhypingtheguysuptokeepcoming,keepimproving,keepgrowingisimportant.There’stoomanymessagestothecontrary,soit’sawarIwageeveryday…forthem.”
Evenwithhisattentionlockedonmyinnerthigh,he’sbrilliant.“Whoareyoufighting?”Iaskhuskily,runningmyfootalonghisthighrightuptothebulgefillinghisjeans.
“Toxicmasculinitypseudo-guruslikeJakeMcGibbons,socialmedia,news,religion,friends,andfamily.Evenwomenbecausetheygetconvolutedmessagestoo.It’sabigclusterfuck…”hesaysbeforehisvoicetrailsoffandhefocusesonthedelightsinfrontofhimagain.“Fuck,Samantha.”
He’stryingsohardtofightthegoodfight,tobeagoodman.Everyday,andrightinthismoment.Butthosecursesfallingoffhistonguetellmehe’slosingthebattleandbeingovertakenbyhisdark,dirtydesires.
Goodthingthat’sexactlywhatIwant.
IpullmyT-shirtovermyhead,revealingthelongcamiIhaveonbeneath.Hegroans,soundinglikeawildanimalinpainasheclencheshisfists,tryingnottotouchme.“Idon’twanttohurtyou.”Abreathlater,headds,“Yourknee.”
Webothknowthat’snotwhathe’stalkingaboutatall.Oh,hedoesn’twanttoinjuremefurther,buthe’snotthinkingaboutalittlebruisethat’llbefinetomorrow.Thisgoesdeeperthanthat.
“Myknee’sfine,andIknowwhatI’mgettinginto,ChanceHarrington.I’mokaywithanotherhook-up.Areyou?”
I’mnotaboveplayingdirtytogetmyway,soasIaskthequestion,Iyankthenecklineofmycamidown,lettingmybreastsrestontopofitlikeaboobaliciousbalconyshelf.Iteasemyownstiffnipples,seekingsomerelieffortheneedcoursingthroughme.
Chancereachesup,hisfingersjoiningmineforamomentbeforehebrushesmeoutofthewayandsqueezesmybreastsroughly.Idon’tknowwhyhe’spunishingme,orifit’shimselfhe’spunishing,butIdon’tmind.Ilikeit…alot.Thedelightfulpainsendssparksthroughmybody,straighttomycore,andIfeelmyselfgrowingevenwetter.
“It’sdifferentnowandyouknowit,Samantha.Asemi-anonymousfuckinahotelroomisonething.You’repartofmyfamily’scircle.Iknowyou.Notjustwhatmakesyoucomehard,butwhereyourheartlies.”Thoughhe’stalkingaboutmyheart,he’smassagingmybreasts—pluckingandpinchingmynipples,cuppingtheirfullness,andkneadingthemsharply.
He’sright.Wedoknoweachotherbetternow,butthatdoesn’tmeanthishastohavestringsattached.Wecanstillbetwopeoplewhohaveamazingsexandthengoonwiththeverybusyliveswe’repassionateabout.
“Please,Ineedit.Ineedyoutofuckme,”Ibegunashamedly.
Ifyou’daskedmeifIwouldhavesexwithaHarrington,Iwould’velaughedmyassoffandsaidyouwereoutofyourmind.ButChanceisnothinglikeIthoughthe’dbe.He’skinder,sweeter,andsmarterthanIexpectedfromamanbornwithasilverspoonuphisass,butalsodirtier,sexier,andmoregenerouswithhistimeandattentiontomybody.
Idoneedtocome.Butequallyasmuch,IneedChancetodoitwithme.
“Dammit.”
He’supandoffthecouchinablink,rippinghisclothesoff.“Turnoverandlieflat.Idon’twanttohurtyourknee.”
MorecarelesslythanIshould,Ipullmycamiovermyheadandripmypantiesoff,thenflipontomybelly,feelingthesoftfabricofthecouchteaseatmynipples.WithChancebehindmewhereIcan’tseehim,theanticipationbuilds,especiallywhenIhearthetell-talecrinkleofacondomwrapper.I’mprobablyleavingapuddleonhisexpensivecouch,butinsteadofbeingmortified,I’mamusedattheideaofmarkinghisimpeccablycleanspace.
WhenChance’sfingerrunsdownmyspine,Iarchintohistouch,liftingmyassasheswoopsdownmycrackandintothewetnessbetweenmythighs.“I’msoakedforyou,”Isay,eventhoughIknowhecanfeelit.
Hisfingerslipsinsidemeeasily,andheleansovermetowhisperinmyear.“Iwantyoutoliethereanddonothing.Justtakeme.Canyoudothat?”
Inodeagerly.
Chancethrowsalegoverme,hiskneesonthecouchoneithersideofmeashehovers,nearlysittingonthebacksofmythighs.Hetakesholdofmyass,grippingfullhandfulsoffleshandsqueezingthemharshly,almostpinchingme.It’sdelightfullysharp,andIcryout,archingtogivehimevenmoreaccesstomybuttandevenlower.
Heshifts,andIfeelhisheadatmyentranceforaquickmomentbeforehethrustsforward,fillingmefrombehindwithhisbig,hardcock.Chancegruntsaprimal,gutturalsoundasIwelcomehimintomybody,stretchingaroundhim
Movinghishandstomyshoulders,heusestheleveragetostrokeintomeagainwithsure,deepthruststhatmassagethefrontwallofmypussy,rightwhereI’mmostsensitive.“Goodgirl,”hepraisesme,andwetnessfloodsbetweenus.
Ifanyoneelsedaredtocallmeagirl,I’dbitchilycorrectthemthatI’mafull-grownwomanwhoshouldberespectedassuch.Butapparently,IhaveapraisekinkwhereChanceisconcerned,andhisrumblyvoicesaying‘goodgirl’getsmetotheedgenearinstantly.
“Ohmagawd,Chance.Fuckmycunthard.Whateveryouwant…please…”I’mmumblingsomuchthatIdon’tknowifhecanevenunderstandme,especiallywithmyfacehalf-smushedintoacouchpillow,butIhopehegetsthepoint.
Anarmwrapsaroundmychest,liftingmeslightly,andIglancebacktoseeChancelookingwild-eyedandcrazed.Prim,proper,well-manneredChancehasleftthebuilding,andinhisplaceisCavemanChance.
Andfuck,doIlikehim.
There’sasayingaboutmenlikingaladyinthestreetsandafreakinthesheets.Ithinkthesameholdstrueforme.Chanceisagentlemaninpublicandamonsterinprivate.IhaveatinyseedofpridethatIhelpedhimfindthatpartofhimself.
“Youwantmetotreatyou…likeaslut?”heasksgruffly.Theword’snotnaturaltohim,butIseethewayhelickshislipsafter,likehe’stastingit,testingittoseehowdeliciousitis.
Inodlikeabobble-head.“Claimme,possessme,takeme.FuckmycuntwithyourbigcocklikeI’myourslut.”
It’smoredirtytalkthanI’vedonebeforetoo,butit’sturningmeinsideoutasmuchasitisChance.I’llexaminewhythatislater,butrightnow,IwanttoseewhatChanceisgoingtodo,feelwhatmybodycanhandle,andexplorenewterritorywithhim.
Heshovesmychestbacktothecouch,gatheringmyarmsbehindmylowerbacktopinmywristsinonehand.Ihearhimspitonmyassandthenfeelhisthumbswipingthroughit.“Gonnafuckthispussywithmythumbinyourass,Samantha.Ifyoudon’twantthat,you’dbettertellmerightthefucknow.”
Histhumbdipsbetweenmycheeks,swirlingovermyrosebud,andinsteadofstoppinghim,Isay,“Doit.”
Histhumbpopsthroughmytightknoteasily.I’msoaroused,IthinkhecouldshovehiscockinsidemyassandI’dtakeitwithnoproblem,sohisthumbisnothing.Exceptwhenhestartsridingmehardandfast,hisdickslammingintomesodeepthatitscootsmeupthecouch,andwithhisthumbpumpinginandout,it’severything.
IhangonaslongasIcan,wantingthisedgingtogoonforever.
“Yougonnacomeforme?”Chancepants,thewordsforcedoutinfavorofbreathing.
Inodsenselessly,losttothepleasurehe’spilingonmybodyasI’mforcedtoliehereandtakeit,unabletomovemylegs,myhips,myarms.Buthe’snotusingmelikeafucktoy.No,he’sgivingasmuchashe’staking.
“Doit,”hesays,repeatingthepermissionIgavehimonlymomentsago.
It’sallIneedtoflyapart.Theroom,thecouch,evenChancedisappearasIfallintoablackvoidofecstasy.Somewherethroughtheroaringinmyears,IhearChancetellme,“Usethatcunttosqueezemelikeagoodgirl.”AndIdo,wantingtopleasehim,wantingmakehimfeelasgoodasIfeel.
“Fuck!”hegritsout,spasmingashefillsmeoverandover.Iknowhe’swearingacondom,butthefantasyofhimpaintingmypussywithhiscumisfilthyandsexy,andanother,smalleraftershockorgasmrocksthroughmeatthethought.
Sometimelater—maybeaminute,maybeanhour,Ihavenoidea—Icomebacktoawareness.I’mfullyfloppedonthecouch,onearmdanglingtowardthefloor,theotherballedupbeneathmychest,withmylegsrelaxed.Chanceispantinghard,hisforeheadpressedbetweenmyshoulderbladesashetriestocatchhisbreath.
“Holyshit,Samantha,”hemuttersafterheforcesdeep,shudderingbreathsthroughhispowerfulchest.
Facestillpressedtoacouchpillow,Ismile.“Idon’tthinkI’mSamanthaanymore.JustChance’scumslut…that’sit…because…Wow.”
Atinylaughshakesme,andChancepushesdeepinsideme.Thoughhe’ssoftafterthatback-blowingorgasm,Idon’twanthimoutofmeyet,either.
Isensehissmile.“ShouldIremindyouofthatlaterwhenyoursanityreturns?”
He’shilarious.Becausethat’snotwhoIam,andanyonewhosuggestedasmuchwouldenterthefind-outphaseofthefuck-around-and-find-outprocess.Butrightnow,it’sthetruth.Ijustwanttoliehereandluxuriateinwhatwe’vedone.
“Onlyifyouwantmetoremindyouthatyoucommandedmetousemycunttosqueezeyourcocklikeagoodgirl,”IteaseasIlookovermyshouldertocatchhisreaction.
Dirtytalkisastrangething.Inthemiddleofsex,it’sthehottestthingeverandcrazythingswillmakeyouhaveadamn-nearinstantorgasm.Butsecondslater,whenthehazeclears,itsoundslikeacringe-worthyPornHubscriptwrittenbyhighschoolboys.
Chancelaughsalittlebeforemoreseriouslyasking,“Youokay?Yourknee?Your…therestofyou?”
Icouldn’teventellyouifIhavekneesrightnow,butIanswer,“Yeah,I’mokay.You?”
Heshiftsontopofme,holdinghisweightuponhisknees.“Otherthanneedingashowerandfood,I’mawesome.”Hepopsmyrightasscheekwithaplayfulswatthatsoundsworsethanitfeels.“Comeon,let’sgetcleanedupandthenI’llmakeussomedinner.”
Orgasmsanddinner?I’mnotgoingtoarguewiththat.Ever.CHAPTER10CHANCE
“IthinkyourbathroomisfancierthananyspaorgymoneI’veeverbeenin,”Samanthasays,notingthewallsandfloorcoveredinswirledmarbleslabs,thelightwoodvanity,andthehugeshowerenclosurewithmoreheadsthanacarwash.“Notthatthere’sbeenmany,mostlyjustthegymatschoolandthespaItreatedmyselftowhenIfinishedundergrad.”
“Itworks,”Ireplymodestly.Itakeprideinmyhome,andIenjoyluxury,butmyneedsarealsorelativelysimple.I’dbefinewithalockerroomshoweraslongasitwaslukewarm.Thankfully,Idon’thavetobe,though.
BecauseIwouldn’twantSamanthainsomejockstrapinfestedlockerroom.Shedeservesthebest,whichiswhyI’mwashingeveryinchofherbody,makingsurethescentedbodywashlathergetsabsolutelyeverywhere.
“Icouldgetusedtothis,”shemoansasIworkshampoothroughherhair.
“Warningorthreat?”Iaskwithasmileshecan’tseebecausehereyesareclosedinbliss.
“Both?”sheanswers,crackingoneeyeandpeeringatmecautiously.
Ibethereagleeyesdon’tmissmuch.Butunlikelasttime,I’mnothavingsecondthoughtsaboutwhatwedidorhowwedidit.Thistime,Ifeel…great.
Maybeit’sbecauseofSamantha’spositivereaction?Ormaybeit’sbecauseIcan’tbetooupsetatanythingthatmakesmecomethatpowerfully?
“Howaboutomeletsfordinner?Imakeameanspinachandfetaversion.”
Samanthabatsherlashesflirtatiously.“Youcooktoo?Howhasnobodysnatchedyouup?”
“MaybeIdidn’twanttogetsnatched,”Icounter.“Really,it’sthattheclubhasbeenmyfocus,priority,andobsession,soIhaven’tspentmuchtimefightingoffwomen.”
That’snotthewholetruth,whichhasalotmoretodowithmybeinganassholeteenager,afuckwitcollegekid,andanadultwithstandardssoridiculouslyhighthatmostwomendon’tpassmyfirstconsideration.
UntilSamantha.
Whodoesn’tmeetanyofmychecklist,mostlybecauseshetookit,waddeditup,andlititonfire.Metaphoricallyspeaking.Thoughshe’dprobablydoitliterallyifsheknewtherewassuchalist.
Shetiltsherheadbacktoletthewaterrinsethroughherhair,andIpressupagainsther,helpingtosluicethesudsout.“Tellmemoreaboutit?Theclub.”
Igathermythoughts,wantingtogivehermorethantheelevatorspeechIgivemostpeople,especiallysinceshealreadyknowsthebasics.“Iwasincollege,surroundedbyguyswhowerehalf-assstumblingthrougheveryday,assumingtheyweregoingtobebigshotsaftergraduation,buttheywantedtobetreatedliketheyalreadywere.”Ichuckle,rememberingoneoftheguyswhoseDaddywasarichCEO-typeandhowhe’dleadwiththatasifhehadsomethingtodowithit.He’dliterallyintroducehimselfasMaxWinston,oftheWinstonWarehouses.It’dworkedokayforhimuntilhepulledthatshitonanactualprincewhowasatschoolonadiplomaticstudentvisaandansweredwith,‘PrincePietro,ofthecrown’.Maxdeflatedprettyquicklyatthat,andnoonewouldlethimliveitdown,laughingandmockinghimanytimehetriedthatshitagain,especiallyifitwastogetagirl.
“Competitionforaplaceinthehierarchyisweirdatthatage.WhenIgraduated,EvanandItalkedalotabouthowtohaveapositiveimpact.Wecameupwiththeclubandthepodcastandhavebeenworkingourassesoffeversince.He’stherealist,theplanner,andI’mthedreamer,theconnector.Webalanceeachothersothatwecangiveguysaplacetobecometheirbestselves.Alittleguidance,alotofpositivepeerexperiences,andasprinklingoflearningopportunitiesdisguisedasfun.”
“Stillsoundsabitlikeacult,yagottaadmit,”sheteases,andIcan’thelpbutlaugh.
“Andyou’restillsayingitwrongclub,notcult,”Iover-enunciatedramatically.“Wehavebasketballcourts,soitcan’tbeacult.”
Snortingatmydeclaration,shedisbelievinglyclarifies,“That’sthedefiningfactor?”
Turningthewateroffandhandingheratowel,Ifeigncertaintyandreassureher,“Itis.Youcantrustme.I’moneoftheleaders,soIwouldn’tlieaboutanimportantdistinctionlikethat.”
“Wannaknowalifehack?”sheasks,grinningsowidelythatIknowthisisajoke,notsomethingserious.Inod,andasshedriesoff,shecontinues,“Ifsomeonetellsyouthatyoucantrustthem,nineoutoftentimes,youcan’t.”
Ipressmylipstogether,fightinganansweringgrinofmyownbecause,tobehonest,Ithinkshe’sright.Butshe’snotdonedroppingadoseofherbrandofwisdomonme,andIcan’twaittoheartherest.
“Iftheysaythey’reagoodguy?Ehnt!Redflag.Niceguy?Totallygonnastalkyou.Smart?Probablyhasn’treadabooksinceelementaryschool.Rich?Maxedcreditcardsandacreditscoreunderfivehundred.Tough?TotalpussywhocallshisMommywhenhehasacold.Honest?Heliessomuch,hedoesn’tevenknowwhatthetruthisanymore.”
Sheshrugsattheharshjudgmentslikethey’renobigdeal,butIjustlearnedahellofalotaboutSamanthaReddingandwhatittakestogetthroughherwalls.Shemightbehalf-joking,butthatmeansshe’salsohalf-seriousandthosethingsarewhatshereallythinks.
“SowhatI’mhearingisthatIshouldtellyouthatI’mneedy,messy,broke,jobless,stupid,and…”Ipause,actinglikeI’msearchingmymemory,andthenfinish,“anassholetohaveachancewithyou?”
Hergrinisbittersweet,andIwonderwhatstoriesshehasinherpast.“Unfortunately,onceuponatime,yeah.Exactlythat.Skinnyjeanwearing,tattedupbadboy,especiallyifyou’vegotabitofastonervibe?Steprightup!”Lighter,sheadds,“ButI’minmy‘manifestingmyself’phase,soI’mnotevenlookingforsomeonerightnow.”
It’slikeshe’sremindingmethatthisisjustsex.Nothingmore,nothingless.ButthatirritatesmeonadeeplevelI’mnotwillingtoexaminerightnow,becauseifwe’renothingmorethanahook-up,thenwhydoestheideaofsome‘stonerguy’inherpastmakemewanttohunthimdown?
I’mnotthecasualsextype,usually.I’vehadahandfulofrelationshipsovertheyears,allofwhichendedwhenthewoman,whosworeshewasfinewiththeamountoftimeIdedicatetomywork,becamesignificantlylessfinewithit.ButI’vehadsomerelationshipsthatwerebasedonsexualcompatibilitytoo.WomenI’vedatedsolelybecausewescratchedeachother’sitchesanddidn’twantorneedmorethanthat.
IcouldseeSamanthaandmefallingintothatcategory,especiallygivenshe’sdiscoveringitchesIdidn’tevenknowIhad.
“Doyouuseyourownproducts?”IblurtasIhandheroneofmyT-shirtstoputonandgrabapairofboxersformyself.Thequestionisabitoutofnowhere,moretodowiththetractmythinkingwason,notourconversation,butSamanthasmirksevilly,rollingwithit.
“Why?Youafraidyoudidn’tdoagoodjob?Oryouwannawatch?”
Shelooksfuckingfantasticinmyshirt,longlegsstickingout,barebreastspressedtothethinfabric,andIknowherpussyisbareunderneathtoo.Somehow,Ifindthestrengthtoleadherpastmybedandintothekitchen,immediatelypullingingredientsoutofthefridgeforthepromisedomeletasshesitsattheisland.
“Watch.Participate.Whatever,”Ianswer,goingbacktomyquestion.“I’mcurious.”
“Pervert,”sheaccuses,pointingatmewithadamningfinger,buthereyebrowisquirkedupteasingly.“Ilikeit.”
“Sales101,knowyourproductinsideandout.Especiallygivenyouhaveaproductyoucanhavefirst-handknowledgeabout.Itseemslikethat’dbehelpful.”
“Great,sowhatI’mhearingisyou’revolunteeringtobemytestingassistantandoccasionaltestsubjectforthemale-orienteddevices.”Sheactslikeshe’swritingitdowninaninvisiblenotebook.“I’llhavemypeoplecallyourpeople.Bytheway,Idon’thavepeople.I’mit,aone-womanshow.”
Andwhatashowsheis.
Afewminuteslater,aftersomequickchopping,swirling,whisking,andflipping,Isettwoomeletsdown,andshegasps.“Thislooksdelicious!DefinitelybetterthanwhatIwasgonnahavetonight.”
“Whichwas?”
“Whateverfrozendinnerisonthetopofthestack.Microwavefourminutes,andvoila,dinnerisserved.”Icringe,thinkingthatsoundsawful,butshebumpsmyshoulderfortheobviousjudgment.“It’sproteinandveggiesinaconvenientpackage,thankyou.Notallofushavefridgesrecentlystockedwithfreshspinach.Someofushavethatweek-oldbagthat’salreadyturnedtobrownsludgeandglaresatusindisappointmenteverytimeweopenthedoortograbatwo-a.m.desperationcheesestick.”
Imakeamentalnotetoaddcheesestickstomygrocerylist.Justincase.
I’veonlyeatenafewbiteswhenIhearastrangenoisecomingfromthelivingroom.“Excuseme,”Isay,settingmyforkdowntogoinvestigate.Ifindmyphonegoingnutsonthecoffeetablewithanalertfromtheclub’salarmsystem.
“Dammit,”Igrumble,frustratedattheinterruptionbutalsoworriedaboutthealarm.It’snew,oneofourrecentrenovationupdates.Sooddsare,thisisafalsealarm.ButIhavetocheckitout.“Igottagototheclub.Sorry.ButIcandropyouathomeontheway?”
Samantha’seyesnarrow,andshehopsupfromthestool,forgettingaboutherhurtknee.Shehisses,shiftingherweighttohergoodleg,andIautomaticallyreachforhertokeepherfromhittingthefloor.
“Yougood?”
“Hellno,I’mgreatbecauseI’mgoingwithyoutoseewhatthisplaceisallabout.”She’swigglingherkneebackandforthandseemstobedoingbetteralreadybecauseshereachesoverthecouchforherjeans.“Unlessits‘nogirlsallowed’?Which,tobeclear,issolate-1900sandnotacceptabletoday.”
Iflashanapologeticsmile.“Weactuallydon’tallowfemalemembers,butit’safterhours,soIguessyoucancomewithme.”Iactlikeshe’stwistingmyarmandI’mdoingherafavor,butI’mnotreadytoendthis…date?Orwhateverthisis.
I’mbreakingtheGentlemen’sClub’snumber-sixrule,whichisnofemalemembersorvisitors,butconsideringIwrotetherules,Icanalsochoosewhentobreakthem.
“That’swhatIthought.Wisechoice,Mr.Harrington,”shedeclareswithatriumphantsmirk.
“You’reabadinfluence.”
Shepatsmybarechestalittletoohardasshesays,“Youhavenoidea,butyoulikeit.Let’sgo.”
***
Thedrivetotheclubisquickandmostlyspentonthephone,reassuringthealarmsystemsecuritycompanythatIdon’twantthemtorollpolicejustyet.I’mgamblingthatit’safalsealarmbecausethere’saheftyservicefeeforthepolicecomingout.I’dliketoavoidthatifIcan.Imighthavemoney,butI’mnotinthehabitofthrowingitawayfornoreason.
Pullinguptothefreshly-painted,renovatedspace,I’mhalfscanningthewhitebrickforgraffiti,blackframedwindowsforcracks,anddoublefrontdoorsforanysignofentry,andalsowatchingSamantha’sreactiontowhatshesees.Thisbuilding,theclub,isakintoholdingmybabyupforinspection,andifshesaysonecriticalthing,there’llbenogoingback.
Butshe’slookingitoverwithconcerntoo,likeshecaresabouttheclubbecausesheknowsit’simportanttome
Idon’tseeanythingworrisome,though,andeverythingseemstobeinorder.Iparkintheemptylot,rightbythedoor.“Waithere.Letmecheckitoutfirst.”
Ishould’veknownbetterthantotellSamanthatodoanything,atleastoutsideofasexualencounter,becauseshelaughs.“Yeah,right,Batman.”
Sheopensherdoor,andI’mstunnedinplaceforasplitsecondbeforeIjumpouttoo.ButbythetimeIgetaround,Samanthaispreppedwithastunguninherhand.“Let’sgo,Batman.”
“Wherethehelldidyougetthat?”Ihiss,tryingtokeepmyvoicedownincasethereissomeoneinside.It’snotlikethere’sanywhereshecould’vestasheditthatIhaven’tseen.
Withheremptyhand,shegesturesatherselfandenlightensmelikeI’manidiot.“Female,student,oncampusatallhours,whereguysthinkadarkparkinggarageisagoodtimetohitmeup.I’mnotstupid,I’mgonnadowhatIcantokeepmyselfsafe,soIkeepthisinmypurse.It’slegal,andI’mtrained.”
She’sansweringallmyquestionsbeforeIanswerthem,buttheideathatcampusisn’tsafeenoughforSamanthatowalkfromclasstohercarwithoutconfrontationmakesmeangryashell.That’ssomethingI’llhavetoaddresslater,withherandwiththeclubguyswhoarestudents.MaybetheycandoaGentlemanescortondemandorsomethingforstudentswhodon’tfeelsafewalkingaroundcampus?
Itablethatideabecausefornow,Ihavetofocusontheclub.“Alright,WonderWoman.Let’sdothis.”
Iunlockthefrontdoorandopenitcarefully,keepingSamanthabehindmeasIpeerinside.Shedoesatleastallowthatanddoesn’tgochargingin,stungunsnappingandcracklinginfrontofherwithawarrior’swhoopofattack.Iwould’vebetthat’dbeherstyle.
Notseeinganythingsuspicious,Iputthecodeintothepanelbythedoor,shuttingoffthesilentalarm.Inmypocket,myphonevibrates,notingtheactivity.
“Thisisthepartwhereyouoffermeatour,”Samanthawhispers.Icutmyeyesherwayandfindhergrinninglikethisissomesortofcrazy,funadventure.
Whichit’snot.Thisisdangerous,orpotentiallydangerous,atleast.
SowhydoIfeelmyselfsmilingbackather?
Slowlyandmethodically,IleadSamanthaaroundtheclubhouselikewe’reaninvestigativeteamoftwo.Thefrontdeskisundisturbed.Theweightroomiscleanedup,witheverythinginitsplace,andSamanthapicksupaten-pounddumbbelltodoacoupleofbicepcurls.Iglareather,andshesetsitbackdown,preciselyinplace,withasheepishlook,thoughIdon’tthinkshe’ssorryintheslightest.Theclassareaisclear,thelockerroomisempty,andeventhebathroomissurgical-leveldisinfected.
I’mbeginningtoconsideranelectricalsurgeorsomesortofwiringissuewiththealarmwhenasuddencrashmakesthatideapoofintotheether.
“Whatwasthat?”Samanthawhispersasshegrabsmyshirt,twistingitinherhandandholdingthestungunoutataninvisibleenemy.
Ilookatherwryly,onebrowraised.“HowshouldIknow?I’mrightherewithyou,”Ianswerpointedly.
Notlikingthat,sheletsmego,straightensherback,andstartstowardwherethesoundcamefrom.Istickmyarmout,stoppingher.“Hellno.Getbehindme.”
It’snotsomechauvinisticinitiativeordoubtinherskillswiththeweaponshe’sholdinginfrontofherattheready.It’sthatthisbuildingandwhatitstandsforaremyresponsibility.Ifthere’sathreat,it’stomeandmine.
Followingwherethesoundcamefrom,Icanhearthequietestcrinkleofplasticpackaging.“Thevendingmachinearea,”Iwhisper.
Wetip-toetothedoorwayofthedead-endareawherewehaveabankofsnackmachines.Iholdmyhandup,stoppingSamantha.“Onthree,”Imouth,andshenods.“One,two,three!”
Ileapintothedoorway,fistsuptofight.“Freeze!”
Samanthajumpsoutwithme,bymysideeveninabadsituation.“Hiii-yah!”
Butthere’snotanintruderlookingtorobtheclub.OratleastnotinthewayIworried.
It’saraccoonwholazilyturnshiseyemaskedfacetowardus,lookingannoyedatourinterruption.
“Aaaaaah!”Samanthascreeches,virtuallyteleportingintooneofthediningchairsatthecoupleoftableswehavesetupforpeopletoeattheirsnacks.Crouchingthere,shepointsattheraccoontomakesureI’mseeinghim.AsifIcouldmisshim.
He’sroly-polyfat,obviouslywell-fed,andlaidbackagainstoneofthevendingmachineswithabag’sworthofM&Msscatteredaroundhim.Thelureofthecandyisprobablywhyhedoesn’tsomuchasflinchatourloudappearance.She’sactinglikehe’sgoingtorabidlyattackher,whilehe’slookingatuslike‘’Sup?’andreadytooffermeablueM&M.
Ican’thelpbutlaughatheroverreactiontothecutecritter.
“It’sokay,”IreassureSamantha,holdingcalminghandsouttoherratherthantheanimal.“He’smorescaredofusthanweareofhim.”
“Agreetodisagree!”sheshouts.
Asifteasingher,theraccoonplucksagreenM&Mfromthefloor,looksatit,andthennibblesitfromhisblack,too-humanhand.He’snotscaredatall.He’schillingasifthisishisplaceandwestockedhispantry,theninterruptedhissolosnackparty.
Decidingtheraccoonistheleastofmyworriesrightnow,IreachahandtoSamantha.“Comeondown.”Awkwardly,shetakesmyhandandstepsuncertainlytothefloor,buthereyesarelockedonthecritterasifhe’sgoingtoflyupfromhisM&Mstashtoattackherwithgrabbypawsandsnappingteeth.“You’refine.”
Onceherfeethitthefloor,sheducksbehindme,herfacepressedtomyshoulder.Ican’thelpbutgrinatherdramatics.Thiswomanisbadassnesspersonified,butshe’sterrifiedofaraccoonwhocan’tbebotheredtorunwhenapproachedbyhumans?
“Heythere,Rico,”Ipurrsoothingly,givingtheraccoonanimpromptuname.“How’dyougetinhere?”Constructionandremodelinghavebeendoneformonthsnow.HasRicobeentrappedinherethiswholetime,orishecomingandgoinginsomewaywehaven’tdiscovered?Ifhehasasecretdoor,it’dhavetobeaprettybigonetofithisbelly.
“Moreimportantly,howdoyougethimout?”Samanthaasks.
Ipulloutmyphonetolookuppestcontrolcompaniesthatdoall-nightercallsanddialthefirstoneIfind.Afterwakingupagrumpy,grumblingman,Iexplainthesituationandhetellsmehe’llbehereasap.Ihavenodoubtthathistripwillinvolveapitstopforcoffeeandit’llbeawhilebeforeweseehim.
Wesettleintowait,sittinginchairs,thoughSamanthachoosesonefurthestawayfromRicoandpullsherlegsupintothechair.Tryingtoseemcoolerwiththewholesituationthansheobviouslyis,sheteases,“Evenyourintrudersaremale.GuessIshouldbeflatteredthatI’mtheonlywomanallowedentry.”ShepointsovertoRico,who’sgothisbacklegsspreadtothesky,makinghisfurrybellyandballsglaringlyobvious.
“There’sajokeinthereaboutmanspreading,butyou’reright.You’retheproofthatIdon’talwaysfollowtherules,”Ioffer.“NotsureI’mgoingtoshoutthatfromtherooftops,though.There’ssomethingtobesaidforthoughtfullybreakingarulewhenyoukeepmostofthematalltimes.Acalculatedrisk.”Afteramoment,Iadd,“Theguyshere?Someofthembreakrulesregularly,likeit’stheonlywaytheyknowtolive.Themereexistenceofarulechafesthem.They’retheonesItrytoreach,toshowhowrulescanbegoodforthem.”
“Yethereweare,breakingalltherules,”Samanthasayswithasatisfiedsmirk.“YougonnashowmeyourofficeafterwegetRicoevicted?Andyourbig…hard…desk?”Shelaughs,proudthatshe’sgotmeonashorthookbecauseIwasnotthinkingaboutmydeskandwebothknowit
Fuck,IthinkImightbebreakingafewmorerulesbeforethenightisthrough.CHAPTER11SAMANTHA
Rulenumberoneofhookups:Don’ttexthim.Itshowsyou’repotentiallyclingy,whichI’mnot.
However,I’mhavingahardtimestickingtothatrulebecauseit’sbeenafewdayssinceChancedroppedmetomycarafterourRicotheRaccoonadventure.I’vebeenhoveringovermyphonetoseeifhewouldmessagemeandtalkedmyselfoutofatleastthreedifferentpossibleconversationstartersIcouldtexthim.
Knee’sfeelingmuchbetter.ShouldIexpectaDr.billforthe‘housecall’?
Youup?
AnotherideaisaGIFIfoundofaraccoonwearingapartyhatandconfetti…asurpriseRico,ifyouwill.
Ofcourse,noneofthosearegoingtowork.OnemakesitsoundlikeI’mpayingfordick,twoisdesperate,andthreeisstupid.Allpotentialredflags.
Icouldjustbehonest—10/10dick,wouldrideagain!
ButI’mprettysurethat’dhaveChanceblockingmynumber,nottomentionmakinganyrun-inswithLunaandCarterabitawkward.I’vetalkedtoLunaeveryday,tellinghereverythingbecausethat’swhatbestiesdo,andshewasblowingupmyphonebyeighta.m.afterChancesweptmeoutoftheicerink,wantingimmediateanswers.Andagoodstory.
Shewasshockedwhensheconnectedmystoryaboutthehotelsexgodwithherbrother-in-law,butwhenItoldherabouthimblowingoutmybackagain,shenearlycrawledthroughthephonetoshakemeinexcitement.Forme,itconfirmedthathe’sasstraight-lacedasshe’salwayssaidheis,andthisthingbetweenusisaboundary-pushingadventure.Forusboth.
Andcouldhappenagain…ifhe’dtextme.Orcall.Orsendoutafuckingsmokesignal.I’dbetherewithnippleclampson,readytogo.
“I’mpouringoutmygutshere,bitch,andyou’reoffinla-lalandlikeI’mboringyoutodeath,”avoicesays,breakingintomyreverie.
I’mlost,imaginingwaysImightgetChancebackinsideme,beneathme,orontopofme,butwhenIblinkandfocus,Ifindfourpairsofeyespeeringatme.Threelookcurious,butoneisfurious.
“Sorry,Natasha.Youweresayingthatyourdatewentwell?”I’mechoingthebarebonesofwhatshe’sbeenrantingaboutforthelasttenminutesbecauseIhonestlyquitlisteningwhenshestartedrepeatingthesameconcernsoverandoverinaloopdespiteanyadvicetothecontrary.
Shehuffs,“Notwell.Immaculate.Perfection.Dream-like.”Sheiterateseverywordwithawaveofherhands,likeshe’sdoingmagicinmidairtobringthemtolife.
“Butyoudon’ttrustitbecauseyou’vebeenhurt,”Saraadds,fillinginforwhatIdidn’tsay.She’sgotthetraumaresponseonlockdownandknowsitwhensheseesit,thoughweallseeitinhowNatasha’sbehaving.Truthfully,evensheseesitinherself,butthatdoesn’tmeanshe’sreadytodealwithityet.
“Right!HowcanI?Imean,Joshisperfect,whichnobodyis,soIkeepsearchingfortheredflag,testinghimateveryturn.Buthe’sallpatientwithmeandshit,talkingthroughmyworrieswhenIhaven’teventoldhimwhattheyare.”Shelooksdownrightoffendedathiscaringresponse.“HeevenlikedthePowerman5KIgotfromSamanthaandwasn’tintimidatedbyitatall.SatrightthereandsexilyjackedoffwithonehandandflickedmybeanwhileItookcareofbusinesswiththevibe.Whodoesthat?”Shethrowsherhandswide,lookingatusexpectantly.
“Yougotthatone?”Daphnegasps,grinningincarnalcamaraderie.“Ididtoo!Didyouknowit’swaterproof?Itrieditinthetubandalmostdrowned.Glub,glub,glub.”Shemakesasoundlikeherlastbreathisescapingfromunderthewaterandthengrins.“Could’vedied,stillwould’vebeenworthit.”
“Evenbetterwithafriend,”Natashaproclaims,stuckonJosh.
Ididcatchthatshemethimoncampuswhenshewasgrabbingcoffeeinthecentralquadarea.He’sanemployee,notastudent,alreadywellestablishedinthecomputerscienceadministration,andhe’ssexy,smart,andkind,accordingtoNatasha.Andthankfully,greatinbed,becauseNatashanearimmediatelybrokeherproclamationswearingoffmenwhenshemethim.Anotherselfishsexincidentorghostinglikewithherrugbyplayerprobablywould’vesenthertothenunnery.Instead,she’sstaringdownalifetimeofhappinesswithagreatguyandfreakingoutaboutit.
ItellNatasha,“Youdeservegood.Youdeserveamanwholistenstowhatyousay,hearswhatyoudon’t,andrespondsaccordinglytoboth.Youdeserveapartnerwhoshowsupforyou,celebratesyou—winorlose—andwantswhat’sbestforyou.MaybeJoshisallthat,ormaybehe’snot,butdon’tgoincarryingbaggagelikeapackmuleclimbingMt.Everest,lettingyourpasttaintyourpresentoryourfuture.”
Sheglancesupwithglossytearsinthecornerofhereyes.“Thanks,Sam.I’mjustscaredbecauseIthinkhemightbetheone,butwhatifI’mnotreadyformyoneyet?”
“Thenyougetready.Butalso,don’tbeagreedybitch,”Katieadds.“YouwanthimtodoallthatstuffSamanthasaid,youcan’tkeeponefootoutthedoor.Yougottagivetoo.”
“Whoyoucallingagreedybitch?”Natashaquestions,herbrowsclimbingherforeheadandhertoneturningsour.Butshe’skiddingandamomentlater,she’slaughingwithKatie.“Gotit…nopackmule-ingandnogreedybitching.Beready.”
“BacktothePowerman5K,”Sarasays,leaningforwardtomeetmyeyes.“How’sbusinessgoing?YoufeelinggoodaboutjoiningJaxxwithallthis?”She’sgood,rememberingmyconcernsandfollowinguponanychangingthoughts.
Iconsidercarefully,buttobehonest,themoneymakesitaneasyanswer.“Yeah,Ihitmypartygoalandgotmybonus.Ireallyneededthat,butIkindahitupeveryoneIknowtodoit,soI’veonlysoldaroundtenunitssincethen.ButI’mcohostingapartywithJaxxtomorrowinthecommunityreccenter,sothat’llbebigforsales,hopefully.”ThenIremember,“Oh!There’sanewproductifyouwanttolookatthesite.TheVelvetreamRabbit.”IpauseasallthreewomenscramblefortheirphonesandstartclickingintotheBedroomHeavenwebsite.“Ifyouwanttoorderone,letmeknowandI’lldoaspecialdeliverytoyouaftertomorrow’sevent.”
“Putmedownforone,”DaphnesayssoquicklythatI’mnotevensureshe’sgottentothepreviewpageyet.IguesssheenjoyedthePowerman5Ksomuchthatshe’sexpandingherhorizons.
***
Apartyisapartyisaparty,Itellmyself.Butthiscommunityreccenterset-upisapproximatelytwopercentlikeourdealattheBedroomHeavenquarterlyparty.
“Areyousurewe’regoingtogetanytraffichere?”IaskJaxx.
Shedoesn’tlookupfromthebannershe’sfidgetingwithassheanswers,“Forthetenthtime,yes.Thisplaceisfulloforgasm-starvedpeopleatlunchtime.Today,they’regoingtogetalittleextrapizzazzwiththeirstudysesh.”
Ihopeshe’sright,butwhethershe’srightorwrong,thisparty’shappening,soIneedtodomypart.
Ilayoutoursampleproductsonthetable,alongwiththepinknameplacards,thenorganizethebinssothatwecanfillorderseasily.We’veevengotanareatowrappurchasesupwithsilverfoiltissuepaperandmatteblackbagstomakeitlookspecial.Becauseeveryonedeservesalittlegiftforthemselves!
Butbeyondourtable,thereccenterlooksaboutasfestiveasalibrary.Thereareabunchofemptyroundtables,ahighbaralongonewallwithprivacydividers,andsometallplantsbesideawaterfeaturethat’sprobablysupposedtobesoothingbutmakesmeneedtopeeeverytimeIseeit.Addinsomeindustrialcarpet,fluorescentlighting,andaguywhokeepshushingpeopleforsimplyexisting,andwe’vegotpartycentral.OratleastitisaccordingtoJaxx.
“Yeah,thatone’llgetyouthere,guaranteed,”Jaxxpromisesagirlabitlater.“It’sheavyduty,though,sodon’tgetaddictedoryou’llneverbesatisfiedwithaplainold,boringdick.”Shewinks,andthegirlgrinsback,handingoverhercreditcardhappily
“Notaproblem.Don’twantorneedoneofthose.Ever,”sheretorts.
Thankfully,JaxxwasrightandIshould’vetrustedhermorebecausewe’vebeenswampedwithcustomers.Sure,somehavebeenlooky-loos,butthat’sstillawinbecausewe’vebeenpimpingtheQRcodeforthecataloglikecrazy,andsomeofthosepeoplewilllikelyplaceorderslaterfromtheprivacyoftheirownhomes.Buteveniftheydon’t,theoneswho’vebeeninterestedhavebeenbuying.
Jaxxisdefinitelyaflashiersalesperson,toutinghorsepowerandpulsemodes,butI’mholdingmyown,talkingtocustomersabouttheirspecificneeds.Weagreedtogofifty-fiftyontheprofitsandsalescreditsfortheparty,andIthinkmyshareisalreadyuptoafewhundreddollars.Ican’tbelievethis,bothhowmuchmoneyI’mmakingandhowmanypeopleI’mhelping.
Butit’snotallparty-fun-times.
There’satableofguyswho’vebeeneyeingusforthelasthalfhour.They’renotbotheringus,exactly,buttheattentionandlaughterfromthemaren’tmakingoursalesanysmoother,andwe’vedefinitelyhadlesstrafficsincetheytookupresidence.Nobodywantsanaudiencestaringthemdownwhiletheychooseatoy.
WhichiswhyI’mleerywhenoneapproaches.ThelastthingIneedistodealwithsomefuckboi.
“Hey,uh…doyouhaveany…like,uh…buttplugs?Mybuddyoverthereneedsone.Arealbigone.Maybeonewithlike,uh…atailattached?”Hechuckles,soundinglikeBeavis,ormaybeit’sButthead?Stupid,eitherway.“Yeah,cuzhe’smy…bitch.Likemydawg,yaknow.”
Helooksbackathiscrew,who’regrinningmaniacally,probablyhavingdaredhimtodothisassomesortoftestosterone-fueledchallenge,andtheyallstartbarkingloudly.
Woof—woof—woof!
Awhooooo!
Completelypreparedandstraight-faced,Jaxxwhipsoutoneofourrarelysoldproducts.Ididn’tevenknowwehadasampleofit.“Actually,yes.WehavetheFurryFriendsFucker,orTripleF,ifyou’drather.”Sheflipsitaroundinherhand,showingtheflaredendtothegobsmackedguy.“See?Thisparticularplughasatwist-to-attachmechanismsoyoucanbuyanyofourtailaccessoriesandswitchthemoutwithyourmood.Dogtoday,cattomorrow,orifyou’rereallyfeelingspicy,wehaveadragononethat’sscaledforyourpartner’spleasure.”
Havingreachedherlimitoflettingthisguythinkhe’sactuallydoingsomething,shegiveshimapointedandwitheringlookupanddownandfinisheswithascathing,“ThoughIdon’tthinkyoucouldhandlethat.”
I’mprettysuretheguy’sbrainisshort-circuitingorsomethingbecausehismouthisopeningandclosinglikeawater-starvedfish.Hedoesn’tknowifheshouldbeoffendedbyJaxx’sassessmentthathecan’thandleadragontailorthankfulthatshedoesn’tthinkhe’ssomesortoffurrybecauseinhislittlemind,that’sstrange.
Nothavingthementalstrengthtocomeupwithanythingbetter,heswatsJaxx’shandaway.“Shutup,slut,”hesnarlsangrily.
Itdefinitelydoesn’thelpthatJaxxlaughsloudlyashestompsbacktohisfriendswithhismetaphoricaltailbetweenhislegs.
“YoucanusetheQRcodetoordersecretlysoyourbrosdon’tknow,”shecallsoutafterhim.
“Jaxx!”Ihiss,pullingherback.“Don’tgetuskickedouttahere.”
“He’stheonewhoshouldgetkickedout.I’mnotkinkshaming.Ishowedhimwhatheaskedfor.He’stheonewhothoughtaskingforabuttplugwasgonnabesomebigwoo-hoodeal.”Jaxxbrushesoffhershoulders.“AndIfordamnsurewillnotletsomedouchenozzlesshameme,orourcustomers,becausetheirmindsarelittlerthantheirdicks.”
She’sright,butthescenehasstillscaredoffmostofourcustomers,thoughwenowhaveawideraudiencewatchingtheshow.
“Ididn’tknowwehadthat,”Isay,pointingattheplugstillinherhand.
“Yeah,it’snotabestseller,”Jaxxadmits,“butyouknowwhattheysay,there’ssomethingforeveryone.”
She’sputtingthegoodiesintoabinbeneaththetablewhenamalevoicesays,“Ichangedmymind.Iwannagetthatthing.”
Iflickmyeyesuptofindthesameguystandingatourtable,butinthenextinstant,itregistersthathe’sgothiswholecrewwithhim.Oneblinkandthey’veallgrabbedvariousproductsfromourtable,nearlyclearingitofsamples.
“Dude,whatkindawhorecanfitthismonsterinhercooch?”
“Whataretheseantennaethings?”
“Catch!”
Theguysareholdingupvibratorsanddildoswiththeirgrosscommentary,tossingthemtoeachotherkeep-awaystyleandlaughingraucously.Onegoessailingacrosstheroom,slappingintoawindowwithathud.
“Hey!Asshole!Whatthefuck?”Jaxxscreams.Shemakesadiveforoneoftheguys,tryingtogetbackthepinkdildohe’swieldinglikeasword.
Hedodgesandlaughinglyshouts,“Enguarde!”
Anotherbro-typeholdshisvibratoruplikeasword,andtheystartsmackingthemtogether.There’sajokeaboutcrossingswordsandrepressedurgesinthere,butIcan’tlaughrightnow.Notwhenourproductsamplesaregoingeverywhere.
It’srainingdicks!playsthroughmyheadtothetuneofIt’sRainingMenasanotherfliesby.
“Givethatback!”Ishoutatanotherguywho’swavingadouble-endedtoyoverhisheadlikeaspinninghelicopterblade.
Heflashesatoobright,Crest-commercialsmilemyway,havingentirelytoomuchfunwiththis.“Makeme.”
Heholdsthetoystraightupintotheair,usinghisheightagainstmeandsmirkingdownatmevictoriously.
ButI’mnotsomestupidnitwitthat’lljumptoreachsomething,makingmybreastsbounceforthisasshole’senjoyment.Nope,insteadIliftmykneeupsharply,feigningthatI’mgoingtoforcefullyintroducehisnutstomykneecap.Hejerksreflexively,curlingintoprotecthimselffromtheassault.ButIwasnevergoingtoactuallydoit.IjustwantedhimtobenddownsoIcouldreachthetoy.
Iripitfromhishand,andoneendsmacksacrosshischeek.Shockandangerflashinhiseyes,buttheshoutsofhisbuddiesdrawhisattentionawayfromme.
“Let’sgo!”oneofthemyells,andtheyalltakeofflikeit’sacoordinatedwithdrawal.Whatthefuck,thisisn’tLululemon!
Jaxxisn’tdone,though,becausethey’restealingourmerchandise,runningawaywithitheldhighintheairlikephallictrophies.Shegiveschase,takingthedirectrouteandstompingupontoachair,table,andthenanotherchairtogetdownontheotherside,herbootsclompingloudlywitheachstep.
“Givethoseback!Ifyouwanttofuckyourselfintheass,yougottabuyonelikeeveryoneelse,Chad!”shescreamsafterthem.
Webothtryourbest,buttheguysgetawaywithourproducts.
“Whatthefuckwasthat?”Jaxxsnapsatnooneinparticular.
“Assholes,that’swhat,”Ianswerangrily.
Wemakeourwaybacktothetable,whichisinshambles.Ipickuptissuepaper,tryingtostackitintosomesemblanceofordertodistractmyselffromthestupiditythatjusttookplace.
“Sonofabitch!”Jaxxhisses.
“What?”
“Theytookstufffromthesupplybinstoo.Look.”Ifollowwhereshe’spointingandseethetotesthatwestashedunderthetablehavebeenopenedandrummagedthrough.
“No!Howmuch?”
Jaxxpurchasedallthemerchandiseinthosebins,andwehavetosellittomakeaprofit.Ifit’sstolen,welosethemoney.Itjustpoofsintothinair,leavingusinthered.
“I’llhavetodoaninventory,comparewhatIboughtwithwhatwesold,but…”Shelooksupatme,andevenwithherheavilymade-upeyes,Icanseepurefearinthem.“Ithinkit’salot.Athousandatleast,maybemore?”
Mystomachflipflopsinmygut.Ijustgotthebonusmoney,paidsomebills,andbankedalittle,andnowthis?AllbecausesomeChad-brosthoughtthey’dbefunny.
“Weneedtocallcampussecurity,”Isay,andJaxxnods.
***
“Soletmegetthisstraight,”thecampussecurityofficersaysslowly.He’stall,railthin,andtoobaby-facedformetocomfortablytalkaboutsextoyswith.Helookslikehe’snotevenoldenoughtohavegraduatedcollegehimselfyet,letalonebesecurityatone.
Although,thatalsomighthavetodowiththefactthathe’sgrinninglikethisissomesortofjokeashemanhandleswhat’sleftonthetableofourmerchandise.“Someguysgrabbedyourwinkie-dinkiesandboltedforthedoor?”
Asnortcomesfromnearby,andJaxxandIsimultaneouslyturnaglareontheofficer’spartner,abig,burlymanwho’sOfficerFriendly’sexactopposite,withruddyredcheekswholookslikehe’stwostepsfromthegrave.Atourmatchingglares,heschoolshisfaceintoanempatheticfrownandclearshisthroat,standingatwhatI’mguessingishisversionofattention—rockingbackonhisheelsandplacinghishandsonhisimpressivepaunch.
Weexpectedthemtolaughattheincidentatfirst.Imean,Igetit…stolendildosisn’texactlythemostcommonreport.Ifiguredthey’dgettheirjolliesoffandthenactuallyhelp.Butthat’snotwhat’shappeningatall.
OfficersPorkandBeanscan’tgetovertheirjuvenilereactionslongenoughtoactuallydotheirjobs,andwe’relosingourpatience.
“Yes!”webothsnapinunison,turningoureyesbacktothetallerofficer.
“That’sexactlywhatwe’resaying,”Jaxxsnarls.“Whichyouwould’veheardifyouweren’tsobusylaughinglikeajuvenileboywhoheardthewordvaginaforthefirsttime.”
Thetallofficernarrowshiseyes,nothappyattheinsult.“Andjustwhatexactlyareyoudoingwiththatmanyofthese,uh,products?”Ratherthanseeminglikeanattemptatprofessionalism,histonemakesourpartygoodsseemevendirtier.
“Doesthatmatter?”Jaxxsnaps.“Whogivesacrapwhy?Itwasourpropertyanditwasstolen.Itdoesn’tmatterifwe’resellingthem,givingthemaway,ordoingdickdrawingclasseswiththem.Mine!”Sheslamsherpalmtoherchestandthendoesrunningfingersthroughtheair.“Someonetook.”Shefinishesherdramaticandcaveman-esqueinterpretationofthelastfifteenminutesbydrawingafingerdownhercheektoindicatethatshe’ssadaboutthiswholething.
“Actually,itcouldmatter,”theolderofficersays.“Y’allgetapprovaltobesellingthisstuffoncampus?Idon’treckonadministrationwouldbetookeenaboutallthis…devilment.”There’sathreatwovenintohisassessmentthatIdon’tlike.
“Areyoukiddingme?”Idemand.“Everyoneoncampusisovereighteen.We’renotdoinganythingwrong.”
“Isn’ttherealawagainsthavingsomanyofthese?”thetallofficerasks,thoughitsoundslikeheknowstheanswer.Buthe’sescalating—first,suggestingcampusadminwouldhaveaproblem,andnow,thepolice.
“Nah,that’sonlyinTexas,”hispartnersays.“Can’thavemorethansixthere.Toobadthat’snotthecasehere,eventhoughsixstillseemsliketoomanyifyouaskme.”Hetrailsoff,lookingatthespreadonthetablelikehewishestherestrictivelawwereinplacehere.
“Ifyou’renotgoingtodoadamnthing,youcango,”Jaxxtellsthem.Herarmsarecrossedoverherchestinanger,butshemanagestowaveatthem,tellingthemtoshoo.
Indignant,theywhirlontheirbootedheelsandlaughinglymaketheirwayoff,bitchingaboutusthewholeway.
“IthinkMr.TooManyDicks,Can’tConcentratetookapictureoftheQRcodeonhiswayout,”ItellJaxx.
Eveninherfrustration,she’sasalesperson.“Ihopehe’smarried,andhiswifeordersthebiggest,fattestcockwe’vegot,makeshimwatchwhilesheusesit,andcomesforthefirsttimeinherlife.Becauseyouknowsheneverdoeswithhim.”
Thesmallesthintofasmilewashesacrossherblack-paintedlipsatthesatisfactioninherimaginarystory.
“Seriously,though,whatarewegoingtodo?”Iask.
Jaxxtakesashakybreathinandforcesagrimsmile.“Sellourassesoff.It’sgoingtotakeafewweeksofourprofitmargintooffsetthisloss.”
Shit.Justwhenthingswerelookingup,theSistersofFateknockmedownanotch.Abigone.
Iswear,ifIdieandmeetthosetwistedbitches,we’regonnahavealittlechataboutinterference.CHAPTER12CHANCE
“Wanttohitthebasketballcourt?”
“Maybeinanhourortwo.I’vegotsomehomeworktoknockoutfirst.”
Ioverhearthecommentsfromtwooftheguysastheycomeintotheclubanditfillsmewithpride.Theclub’sboomingwithactivity,andtherearen’ttoomany‘quiet’hourswherewedon’thavemembersabout.Whetherthey’recomingafterclass,afterwork,beforework,orwhatever,theguyslikecominghere—todecompress,workout,network,orfindsomeonetochataboutlifewith.
Butwhatevertheirneeds,TheGentlemen’sClubhasbecomethatplace,agrownup“boysclub”thatmixesself-improvement,mentalhealth,andcommunity.Ineverknewthatcombiningallofthosecouldbeasuccessfulbusinessmodel,butI’mgladwetooktheriskbecausewe’rechanginglives.
Unfortunately,it’snotalwayscopacetic.
Alotoftheguysarestillsearchingfortheirownidentity,andclashingheadswithothermembersisinevitableastheyfightforrank.We’vehadtobreakupafewargumentsbeforetheydescendedintofull-onbrawls,butweexpectedthat.Unfortunately,it’showguysassertthemselves—likethetusslesIhadwithmybrothersasakid,andthenlater,onwhateverballfieldwewereconquering.
Overall,though,thingsaregoingsmoothly.WiththeguysandwithRico,who’sbeenrehomedtoafar-awaysanctuarywherehecanhaveallthehealthy,raccoon-appropriatefoodhewants,AKAnotmassiveamountsofchocolatecandy.
Hopefully,there’sevenafewladyraccoonsforhimtomeet.
“Hey,Lucas,youready?”IaskasIenterthecounselingareaandfindhimsittingonthecouch,pickingathiscuticles.
Oneononementorshipsareoneofthemostpersonallysatisfyingthingsweoffer,givingguysachancetotalkwithEvanormeonamorepersonallevel.
“Iguess,”hemumbles.
Notexactlyarip-roaringbeginningtooursession,especiallyconsideringhe’stheonewhorequestedit.Butgettingtheseguystoopenupishardsometimes.Mostofthemhavebeenbroughtupwitha‘boysdon’tcry’mentalityanddon’twanttoshowweakness,especiallytoanotherman.Butit’smyjobtomakethemfeelsafeenoughtosharesothatthey’reabletogrow.
“Beenhittingthebag?”AsIsitdownoppositehiminaleatherarmchair,Ipointathishands,wherehisknuckleshavefreshrednessontopofhealingbruises.
Lucasnods,examininghishands.“Theheavybaginthegym’salittlefirmerthanI’musedto.”
“Therearebagglovesyoucanuse.”Iwatchhisreactioncarefully,notingtheslightdowntiltofhislips.“Butyoualreadyknewthatandchosetobareknuckleit.Howcome?”
“Iwantedtofeel…”Lucassays,hisvoicefading.WhenIwavehimon,hecontinues.“Iwantedtofeelsomething.”
“Byhurtingyourself?”
“Bybeingtougherthansomefuckingbag!”Lucassnaps,hiseyesshootingfiredirectlyatmeasifI’mtheonewhomadehimfeelweak.I’vedonenosuchthing,butI’matargetthathetruststonotbackdownfromhisworst.“Realmendon’twearsomepussypadsontheirhandswhentheyfight.”
Hummingthoughtfully,Icounter,“I’mbettingthere’safewwho’ddisagreewithyou.Aliworegloves.ConorMcGregorwearsgloves.They’rerealmen,whateverthatmeans.Sowhat’sthisreallyabout,Lucas?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Imean,”Ireply,sittingforward,“what’smakingyouworryaboutyourtoughguyquotient?”
Itcouldbeanynumberofthingsbecauseguysworryabouttheirtoughnessforalotofreasons—beingchallenged,feelingoutofcontrol,facingsomethingdifficult,orevenasawaytoprovethemselves.
Lucasopenshismouth,thenclosesit,notreadytosharehisthoughtsyet.FacingaproblemheadonissomethingLucashasavoidedatallcostsinthepast.Whenhewasstrugglinginschool,hisfirstresponsewastohittheweightsharderthanthebooks,andthoughheincreasedhisbenchpressPRbythirtypounds,hefailedaclassheneededforhismajor.Whenhisfamilywashurtingfinancially,hecomplainedabouthowhisscholarshipfundsweren’tenoughtoliveoninsteadofgettingajobtohelpsupporthisyoungersiblings.
Healwaystendstorunoppositeofhisproblemswhentheyarise.
Buthe’sbeenworkingonit…andfinally,hesighs.“Nora.”
Ileanback,takingthepressureoffandgivinghimspacenowthathe’stalking.“Nora.Whathappenedwithher?”
Noraisagirlhe’sbeeninterestedinforawhile,andwe’vetalkedaboutherafewtimes.Butthewayhesayshernamethistimetellsmethatthingsaredifferentnow.
“Look,man,Itriedtodowhatyousaid,”Lucassays,frustratedandobviouslyhurt.“Itriedtalkingtoher,beingrespectful.IevenfuckinglistenedasshedronedonandonandonaboutTaylorSwift’snewalbum,likeIgiveashit.Andthen,whenIaskedherout,youknowwhatshesaid?”
Ialreadyknowwhatshesaid,givenhisoutburst,soIstaysilentandraisemybrows,encouraginghimtogoon.
“BlakeChristian,”Lucasspits.“Shetoldmeshe’sdatingthestardefensiveendforthefootballteam.Thedudewho’sfuckedhiswaythroughhalfthechicksoncampusbutkeepsgettingchanceswiththenextonebecausetheyallthinkthey’llbetheonetomagicallychangehimlikepoof.”Hesnapshisfingers.
“Ortheyjustlikehim?”Isuggest,andLucas’seyespopwideopeninanger.ButIkeepgoing,pushingtheideatoproveapoint.“Ortheywantafuckboy,orhe’sactuallyaniceguy?”
Lucasscowlsatme,snarling,“Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout?”
“Thepointis,youdon’tknowwhyNorawantstogooutwithBlake,butshemusthaveherreasons.Reasonsshedoesn’thavetosharewithyouoranyoneelse.However…”Iholdmyhandsup,tellinghimtoletmefinish.“Didsheleadyouon?Orwastherenothingbetweenyoutwoyet?”
Iknowtheanswerbecausehe’sbeentalkingaboutherforawhile,buthehasn’t‘sealedthedeal’,ashecalleditlastweek.
“Well,Iwastextingher‘goodmorning,beautiful’andgoodnighttexts.Tellingherhowgreatsheis,talkingaboutalltheboringstuffshe’sinto,andwhenshewasstudying,Itookherpizzafromherfavoriteplaceandsatwithherfordinner,kindalikeadate.AndIsawheroutwithfriendsonenight,soIboughtthemaroundofdrinks,whichwasexpensiveasfuck,andwedanced.”Hehuffs,lettinghisheadfallbackonthecouchtostareattheceiling.“Alltheshityoutoldmetodo.”
“Okay,andwhatwasherresponsetoallthat?Didshetextyouback,talkwithyou,seemhappytoseeyou?”
I’mtip-toeingabitwithLucasbecausetruthfully,he’snotaniceguy.Hejustthinksheis,andthat’swhatI’mworkingtohelphimrealize.Hisattentionistransactionalinhishead,evenifhehasn’tidentifiedthatheconnectsactionswithemotionsthatwayyet.
Onadeeplevelhe’snotawareof,hethinks‘Iwasnice’and‘Iboughtyoudrinks’translatesto‘you’lldateme’and‘you’llwanttohavesexwithme’.
“Idon’tknow,man.Shewasfuckinghappytoletmebuyherdrinks,that’sforsure.IbetBlake’snotdoingshitlikethatforher.ButI’msureshe’ssuckinghisdicklikeahungrywhore.”
“Whoa,slowdown!”Iprotest.“Iknowyou’reupset,but—”
ButLucasisinfull-onrantmode,hisemotionsanddarkthoughtshavingfesteredinsidehisbrainlikeatoxicpimple.Andnowhe’ssqueezingitout…allovertheroom.Iguessit’sbetterthandoingitsomeplaceelse,likeinfrontofNora.“That’swhythisisallbullshit.”Hegesturestotheroomatlarge,andatfirst,I’mnotsurewhathemeans.Buthekeepsspittingoutugliness.“Niceguyslikemefinishlast.Bitchesreallyjustwantthetoppercentageofguyswhoarehot,tall,andhavebigdicks.Itdoesn’tmatterhowtheytreatthem.Theshittierthebetter,andtheyswallowitdown.That’swhyallthissimpstuffyou’repreachingisafuckingscam.”
“Enough,”Isaysternly,takingtheglovesofftostophisdownwardspiral.Coldly,Igivehimthehardtruth,stillnotentirelysurehe’sreadyforitbutknowingheneedstohearit.“YouwentinexpectingNoratofallatyourfeetbecauseyouboughtheradrink?Ifit’sthatsimpletoyou,hireasexworker.Atleastthenshe’llknowgoinginthatyouthinkthebarestofhumankindnessandtendollarsentitlesyoutoablowjob.AsforNora,didyoureallylikeher?Wanttogettoknowher?Oronlyfuckher?”
“Doesitmatter?”heretortswithaneyerollthatletsmeknowhedidn’thearasinglethingIsaid.
“Yes,itmatters!”Ibark,losingmycoolabit.“WhyareyouhereifyouthinkI’mascam?”
Lucassits,sullenlysilentforamoment.“BecauseIhavefriendsinthisclubandtheybelieveinyou.Butit’shard.It’shardwheneverygirlImeetendsupbeingafuckingwhorewhowantstoberailedbyafootballstarortrainedbythewholeteam.”
Isitforwardinmychair,pinninghimwithmyeyessohehearsthisloudandclear.“Lucas,I’mnotteachingyoutoactacertainwayortousenicenessasameanstoanend,”Ichastisehim.“It’sgottobewhoyouare.Youhavetoactuallycareaboutotherpeople,includingthewomenyouwanttodate.It’snotaboutwhatyou’redoing,it’saboutwhyyou’redoingit.Rightnow,you’renotaniceguy.”Ipause,lettingthatsinkinbeforethrowinganevenhardertruth.“You’reaninsecureassholewithasuperioritycomplex,butyoucandobetter,bebetter.”
“Whatever,”hehuffs,crossinghisarmsoverhischest.
Ihalfexpectedhimtojumpuptothrowhands.ButthefactthathetookthatsittingtellsmethathealreadyknowsI’mright,hejustdoesn’tlikeit.SoItempermytoneabittobemoreencouragingbecauseultimately,Idon’twanttotearhimdown.Iwanttobuildhimup.
“Youcareaboutyourfriendsenoughtobehere?Thatshowsyou’reagoodfriend.Usethatasajump-pointforhowtothinkaboutothersandtocommunicateyourneeds.Ifyourbuddywantedpizzaandyouwantedaburger,you’dsayso.Yeah?”Iask,andhenods.“It’sthesamewithromanticrelationships.Ifyouwantafuckbuddy,findawomanwhowantsthattooandtellherupfront.Ifyouwantadeeperromanticpartner,youhavetobedesirableasapartnerfirst.”
“Yeah,I’llgetrightonthat,”Lucassayssarcastically,standingupandstompingoutoftheroom.
“Well,thatwentwell,”IsaytotheemptyroomasIsitback,scribblingafewnotestomyselfonwhattokeepmyeyeonwithLucasandwhattotalktoEvanabout.
Lucascouldbeaproblem.Andhissessioncastsadarkpallovermymood.
Alotoftheseguyscomehere,listentothepodcast,andbenefitfromboth.Butwhenthey’reoutsideourcultivatedenvironment,theyhear,see,andlivetheopposite.Lucas’sdemeanorandangeraredisturbing,anditmakesmewonder,amIpitchingmymessagetherightway?OramIpissingintothewindandpretendingthatthewetnessisrain?AmIreallymakingadifferencehere?
WhileIponder,Iheararuckusoutintheclub.Gettinguptogoinvestigate,IsendupasilentprayerthatRicodidn’thaveasecretraccoongirlfriendhidingoutthat’spissedathermissingmanoragaggleofbabyRicos.
“Toro,toro,toro!”someoneshouts
IhavenoideawhatIwalkedinto,butthere’sasmallgroupofguyswieldingvariousdildosandvibratorsastheotherguyscheerthemonlikewarriorsreturningfrombattle.Andthe‘toro’seemstobedirectedatAnthony,whohasatwisted,silverglitterdildosuctioncuppedtohisforehead.He’sactinglikearagingbull,runningpenis-hornfirstintoatowelanotherguyisholdinguplikeamatador’scape.
“Whatthehell?”Imuttertomyself,asmallgrinblooming.
It’sridiculous,it’sstupid,andabitwild,buttheguysactingcrazyisn’tthatunusual.Theyneedtoletoffsteamsometimes.AndtheydefinitelyseemtobehavingagoodtimeconsideringAnthony’srunningatvariousguysnowandthey’rejumpingoverhimbullfighterstyle.
“‘Ole!”anewguyshoutswithaflourishofhishandsandastompofhisfeet.
“Checkitout!Theywereall‘oh,no,give‘emback’andthegothgirlchasedusoverthetableonthewayout.”
“Yeah,andSexToyBarbiewasshouting—”
“Fuckingbitchalmostrackedmetogetoneback.”
Wait,what?Theircommentaryisstillprocessing,butwhatdoesregisteris‘SexToyBarbie’.
That’sSamantha.That’swhattheycalledherafterthebagofdicksstageincident.
Mygoodmoodevaporatesinablink.“Whatthehellisgoingonhere?”Ibellow.Icrosstheroom,standinginthemiddleofthegrouptobreakitup.“Iwantanswers.Now.”
Anthonygrinswidelyandshakeshisheadtomakehispenis-hornwiggletriumphantly.“Gotherbackforyou,Chance.SexToyBarbiewon’tembarrassyoueveragain.”
Icanfeelangerbuildinginmygut,hotandsour,butIforcemyselftostaysteady.“Explain,”Idemandcoldly.IneedtoknowwhattheseknuckleheadshavedonebecauseIknowthatIneedtotalktoSamantha.Whatevertheydid,insomeways,it’smyfault.AndIneedtodealwithitASAP.
Anthony’ssmilefallsbyafewdegrees,butashespeaks,hisprideisstillobvious.“Wewerehanginginthecommunityrecroomandsawthetwogirlsfromthemeetingsellingthisshitwithnoshame,rightthereinfrontofeveryone.Wetookcareofit.”
Hemakesitsoundliketheydidamobhitrightinthemiddleofcampus.“Whatdoyoumeanyoutookcareofit?”Keepingmyvoiceevenisgettingtougherandtougher.
“Weconfiscatedsomemerch,madeenoughofascenethatthey’redefinitelynotgonnagetinvitedback,andavengedyouabit,”Anthonysummarizeswithachuckle.
Heholdsahandup,andanotherguyjumpsintoofferahigh-fivelikeanythinghejustsaidisagoodthing.“Fuckingright,”hesays.“Goodwork,Anthony.”
Iscanthecrowdaroundus,shockedattheireagereyesandapprovinggrins.Thereareafewwholookuncertain,butoverall,theguysthinkI’mgoingtowhole-heartedlyapproveofwhatAnthony’sdone.
“Seriously?YouthoughtI’dbehappythatyougavethosewomenahardtimeandtooktheirmerchandise?”Ibiteout.“Haveyoulearnednothingfrombeingamemberhere?”
“Wha—”Anthonymutters,hissmileallbutgone.
Louder,Itellthegatheredguys,“Italkedtothatwomanafterthemeeting.Shewashorrified,soembarrassedatwhathappened,allbecauseshewalkedinthewrongdoor.Somethingthatcouldhappentoanyofus.”Grittingmyteeth,Iglancearoundthegroup,seeingifthey’rehearingme.“Anddoyouknowwhyshehadthesextoys?Becauseshe’sabusinesswoman,asuccessfulone,Imightadd.Nothingtobejokedaboutthere,isit?”
Imeettheeyesofeveryguysurroundingmeexceptone.Anthony’sheadhasfallen,hishornpointingtothefloorashestaresblanklylikeascoldedchild.
“What’sgoingon?”Evanasks,comingupandpushinghiswaythroughtheguystothecenternexttome.It’sbeenalongtimesinceit’sbeenmeandhimagainsttheworld,butit’sgoodtoknowthathe’sstillgotmyback.
Iexhaleheavily.“WasthinkingasIcameinthismorningthatI’mdamnproudofthegoodworkwedohere.Heardguyssupportingeachother,sawthecommunityofgoodmenbuildingrelationships,andknowthegrowthsomemembershavemadesincejoining.”EventhegoodthingsI’msayingsoundaccusatorybecauseI’mthatfurious.“ButIjustgotareallybitterwake-upcallthat,whengivenhalfachance,someofthemwillbullywomen,stealfromthem,andthencelebrateliketheydidsomethingtobeproudof.I’mjustdamnfuckingdisappointedandangryashell.”
Ipushmywaythroughthecircle,shoulderbumpingacoupleofguystogetfacetofacewithAnthony.“That’sprobablygonnaleaveabigfuckinghickeyonyourforehead.Iwantyoutothinkaboutwhatyoudidtothosewomeneverydaywhenyouhavetoexplainthepenis-hornstuntyoupulled.”
There’sasnickerofgiggles,butforthemostpart,theguystrytoswallowdowntheirlaughs,especiallywhenAnthonypullsthesuctioncupfromhisheadwithaloudpop!
There’smostdefinitelyafour-inchroundredandpurplebruisefrontandcenteronhisforehead.Serveshimright.
IriptheglitterdildofromhishandasIstrideaway,backtomyoffice,andbehindme,IhearAnthonysay,“Sorry,Chance.Ithought…itwasjustajoke.”
Ajoke?
Iwanttoroarathim.Iwanttopunchhim.Iwanttoannihilatehim.AllthingsIteachmyguystoreasontheirwaythrough,butIthinkforthefirsttime,I’mrealizinghowtrulyhardthatis.
Islamthedoortomyoffice,thesharpsoundreverberatingthroughthespaceandpacebackandforthacrosstheareainfrontofmydeskwhereIthrewthetoy.Iswearit’sstaringatme,one-eyedmockingeverythingIthoughtI’daccomplishedattheclub.I’vemadeahandfuloflapswhenthere’saknockonthedoorasitopens.Evanpokeshisheadin.
“Dude,whatthefuck?Youokay?”
Ijerkmyhead,andhecomesin,closingthedoorbehindhim.Stillpacing,Iletloose.“Canyoubelievethatshit?AnthonysaidSamanthaalmostkneedhim.Thatmeanshewasusinghisbody,hissizeagainsther,tointimidateher.Onestepawayfromassaultingher.Andhe…no,theythoughtitwasfunny.Whatthehellisthat?”Ithrowanarm,pointingbackatwhereIleftAnthony.
Evan’squietforalongminute,maybetwo,juststaringatmewithoutananswer,andIthinkhe’sprocessingwhatAnthonydid.Finally,hesays,“Howlong?”
Confused,Iecho,“Howlongwhat?”
“Don’tbeadumbass.Iknowyoubetterthanyouknowyourself,Chance.Howlong’veyoubeenseeingbago’dicksgirl?”heaskswryly.
“Don’tcallherthat!Samantha.Hername’sSamantha,”Icorrect.Andthenwithasigh,Iadmit,“Sincethatnight.Turnsoutshe’sbestfriendswithCarter’swife.She’sapsychologygradstudentandsellsthesextoys.”
“It’sserious?”
Ilickmylips,knowinghe’snotgonnalikethis.“No.Casual.”
Evanlaughsmirthlessly,lookingattheceilingforcelestialassistance.“You’vebuiltyourreputationonbeingagainstfuckboyculture,butyou’refuckingagirlwhothrewdicksatyourfeet?DidIgetthatright?”
“Don’tbecrude,”Igrowl,butit’sahollowchastisement.“Wewentinwithclearcommunication.We’rebothtoobusyforarelationship,butifwecanmeetsomeofeachother’sneeds,whynot?”
“Whynot?Areyouserious?”heasks,turninghisglaretome.WhenIdon’twitherbeneaththeweightofhisgaze,heshakeshisheadresolutely.“She’salreadygotyouhookedandyoudon’tevenknowit.Reaganpulledthesameshitonme.”
Reaganishisfiancée.She’sadataanalystforamutualfundcompany,spendingherdaysstaringatchartsandgraphsandhernightsstaringatEvan.Andwhilehe’ssayingReaganhookedhim,thetruthis,hefellforherhardandfast.Notbecauseshemadehimbutbecauseshe’sthatamazing.Evanchasedher,wooingherateveryturn,andhadtowinherover.
“It’snotlikethatwithmeandSamantha,”Iargue.
Hechuckles,holdinghispalmsup.“Ifyousayso.ButifAnthonypulledthatstuntwithsomeoneelse,you’dbepissedashell,butyou’dtalkhimthroughitanalyticallysohe’dseewhyit’swrongandbrainstormhowtomaketheproperamends.Instead,youwentscorchedEarthonhimalaDaddyHarrington.”
It’salowblow.SayingI’mactinglikemyfatherwhenheknowsIdon’thavethebestrelationshipwithhim,mostlybecauseIventuredoutonmyownwithEvantostarttheGentlemen’sClubinsteadofjoiningthefamilybusinesslikeCarterandCameron.
“Ineedtoseeifshe’sokay,”Iadmit.“I’mgonnacutoutearly.”
I’malreadythreequickstepstothedoorwhenhesays,“Good.”
Confused,Iglanceovermyshoulder,andhestaresatmeinexasperation.“Goodbecausethatmeansit’snotcasual.Youjusthaven’tfiguredthatoutyet.”
“Shutup,asshole.”Ilaugh.RightbeforeIleave,Iremember,“Hey,watchLucasforme.Hehadatoughmentoringsession,andIwasprettyroughonhim.Buthe’sgottapullhisheadoutofhisassbeforehegoesblindfromthelong-termdarkness.”
Evandoesastupidtwo-fingersalute.“Gotit.GocheckonyourSexToyBarbie.”He’sgrinning,andlater,I’lltellhimtonevercallSamanthathatagain.Butrightnow,Iwanttogo.
AsIheadthroughthegameareaandthelobby,silencedropsdownovertheguyswhentheyseeme.Iknowthey’rewonderingaboutmyreactionearlier,butIstandbyit.
Onehundredpercent.CHAPTER13CHANCE
OblivionCoffeeisnotaplaceIwouldevergoonmyown.It’sdark,gothic,withskullshereandmoonphaseartthere,andmetalcoremusicplaying.Thankfully,themusic’snottooloudandIcanatleastorderadrink.
Ifthebaristabehindthecounterwouldactuallytakemyorder.
“Bruh,areyoulostorsomething?”Hechucklesashelooksmeover.
Admittedly,Idon’tlooklikeanyonehere.I’mwearingtheleftoversofmydailysuit—navyslacks,bluebutton-upshirtwiththesleevesrolledup,brownloafers,andaPatekPhileppeonmywrist.
Ontheotherhand,thebaristahasblack,jagged-cuthairandsmearedeyemakeupthatcrossesthebridgeofhisnose,whereasilverbarbellrests.HisT-shirthasaLucifer-esqueimageandislayeredwithaleatherharnessvest,hisblackjeansaremoreshreddedthanripped,andwhenhewalkedover,Isawthatatleastfiveinchesofhisimpressiveheightarefromtheplatformsonhisboots.Hisnametagreads‘Syd’andhasamiddlefingersticker.
InOblivionCoffee,I’mtheoddmanout.
Ileanin,answeringjustbetweenthetwoofusandhopefullycreatingsomesenseoffellowshipsohedoesn’tsacrificemerighthereonthecountertotheCoffeeGods.“No,meetingafriend.Shesaidhere,andtobehonest,I’dgowhereversheaskedmeto.”
“Bet.What’reyoudrinkingtoday?”heasksflatly.
Alright,callingthatawinbecauseatleasthe’swillingtotakemyorder.“Largeblack.”I’mkeepingitsimple,thoughatwistedpartofmewantstoordersomethingsugar-ladenandwhippedcream-toppedtoseeifthebarista’sheadwouldexplode.“Needaname?”
“Nah,”Sydsays,clearlyamusedthathemighthavetroublefindingmewhenmydrink’sready.“Gotchu.”
Withthatdeclaration,hespinsonhisbootedfootandstompsawayasItapmycardtothemachinetopay,prayingthatmyblackcoffeewon’tbeasbitterasSydseems.
Sittingdown,Idrummyfingersonthecoldmetalofthetableandwatchthedoor,impatientlywaitingforSamantha.Ineedtomakesureshe’sokayafterthestuntAnthonypulled.
AndafteryoubasicallyghostedheraftertheRicoRollout.
That’snottrue.Shesaidcasual,andwe’rebothbusy.Ididn’twanttobepushy.
Arguingwithmyselfisn’tgettingmeanywhere,andwhenthedooropensandSamanthawalksin,mymindgoescompletelyblankinaninstant.
She’sstunninginasummerywhitedresswithredpolka-dotsthatshe’spairedwithhigh-topyellowNikes,goldnecklacesthatlayoverhercleavage,andastrawbagwithwovensunflowers.
I’membarrassedthatmyfirstthoughtsarefilthy—bendingheroveratable,flippingthefullskirtofherdressup,andtakingher.Icanimaginethesilkyfeelofherskin,thesweettasteofherpussy,andthesparkinhereyesasshefallsapartaroundmestillinhertennisshoes.
Imentallyslapmyself.
Issheokay?That’swhat’simportant.Herknee,Anthony’sbehavior,us.
Asshewalksmyway,herhipsswishbackandforth,hypnotizingme.Buthersmileisn’tforme,it’sforSydasshewavesathim.
“Hey,Samantha,usual?”heasks.Hedoesn’tsmileback,butthere’salightinhiseyesandanenergyinhisvoicethatcertainlywasn’ttherewhenhehelpedme.
Shenods,thensetshersightsonme,andIstandtopullherchairout.“Youlookgorgeous,”Isaybywayofgreeting.
“Thankyou.”Shesitsprimly,smilingatme.“Iwassurprisedtohearfromyou.Isthissomesortof‘don’tcalltoosoonorshe’llthinkyouactuallygiveashit’deal?”Blunt.Bold.Confidentasfuck.
Ilikeit.
“Notatall.Iwastryingtorespectyourwishesforcasualness,buttruthbetold,you’vebeenonmymindalot.Forgiven?”
“Therewasn’tanapologyinthere.”Iopenmymouthtospeak,happytoapologizeifthat’swhatshewants,butsheholdsupherhand.“Nordoyouneedto.Justtryingtoseewhereyou’reat.So,what’sup?Yousaidthiswasanemergency.”
Theeasyacceptanceofmyexplanationisasurprise.IguessIexpectedhertogivemeahardertimeeventhoughshesaidshewasfinewithnostringsattached.Herunpredictabilitydelightsmeateveryturn.
“Straighttoit,butfirst…how’syourknee?”
Herbrowslift.“It’sfine.Wassoreforadayortwo,butallgoodnow.”
“I’mglad.”Ipause,knowingthenextpartwon’tbesoeasy.“Wehadanincidentattheclubtoday.Onethatinvolvedyou.”
“Me?”
BeforeIcanexplain,Sydappearstableside.“Samantha,acinnamonrollandespresso.Suit,coffee.”
“Ohmygawd,thanks,Syd.Thislookssooogood,”Samanthapurrsassheswipesafingerthroughadrizzleoficingontheplateandsucksthesweetnessfromherfinger.
BothSydandIwatchherunintentionallysexymovewithahungerofourown.Iclearmythroat,andhecutshiseyesmywaybeforereturninghisgazetoSamantha.“Letmeknowifyouneedtosneakouttheback.”Withthat,hegoesbacktothecounter.
SamanthagigglesatSyd’sofferbutisquicklydistractedbythecinnamonrollinfrontofher.Digginginwithafork,shemoansasthepastryhitshertongue.“Jaxxintroducedmetothisplaceandthismonstrosityofamazingness.It’soneofmyfavorites.Here,tryit.”
Shecutsanotherbiteandholdstheforkouttofeedme.It’soddlyintimate,especiallyconsideringalltheotherthingswe’vedonetoandwitheachother,butIleanforwardandtaketheofferedbite.
She’slookingatmeexpectantly,soItellherexactlywhatI’mthinking.“Delicious.”
I’mnotonlytalkingaboutthepastry,whichislight,fluffy,andfilledwithlayersofooey-gooey,butterygoodness.ItalsohasmorecinnamonflavorthanIexpected,whichkeepsitfrombeingtoosweet,butallthataside,I’mtalkingabouther.
Samanthatakesanotherbiteforherself,grinningatmyflirting.“Yousaidtherewasanincidentinvolvingme?”sheremindsmeasshedigsinwithabandon,keepingeverybitforherselfnow
I’mhonestlydistractedbythegustowithwhichsheeatsthecinnamonroll.It’ssexyhowmuchsheenjoysit,hermoansandsmacksmusical,herlipswrappingaroundtheforktogeteverydropofwhiteicing.
“Uh,yeah.Oneoftheguyswas…”HowdoIexplainwhatthehellAnthonywasdoing?“Imitatingabull,wearingasuction-cupdildoonhisforehead,”Isayquietly.
Samanthachokesalittlebutcoughstoclearherthroat.Lookingatmeinconfusion,sherepeats,“Dildobull?”WhenInod,shefollowsupwith,“Weretheotherguysridinghim?”
Ilaughattheimagethatbringstomind.“No,picturemorelikeSpanishbullfighting.Butthetoy,Ithinkitwasyours.Didsomethinghappenatapartytoday?”
IwanttohearhersideofwhathappenedbecausewhileI’malreadyfuriousatAnthony’sversion,I’mafraidhertruthwillbeevenworse.
Hereyesnarrowinstantlyassheglaresatme.“Yes.Whatdidyouhear?”
Ileanback,foldingmyhandsonmykneetotryandmaintainsomeselfcontrolandcalmofthesituation.“Justthatagroupofguyshassledyouprettybadly?”Shenodsslowly,andIcontinue,“Iwantedtomakesureyou’reokay.”
“Morelikefurious,”shecorrects.“ThoseassholesstoleourmerchandiseafterdoingsomeimmatureimpersonationofAfterSchoolSpecialbullies,leavingamessofourproductsalloverthewholeroomandmakingJaxxandmelookbad.”
HerresponsetoAnthony’sbehaviorisabsolutelywarrantedandcompletelyjustified.Ikindawishshehadmadecontactwithhisballstoteachhimalesson.
“They’reclubmembers,”Iadmit,holdingmyheadhighthoughI’mashamedoftheirbehaviorandhowitreflectsonourentirecommunity.OneI’mtryingtobuildbasedonintegrity,leadership,andself-awareness.Theyfailedspectacularlyinthat,butIwon’tshrinkawayfromtakingsomeownershipofmyguys’behavior.IfIallowmyselftobeproudwhentheysucceed,Ihavetofeelequallyresponsiblewhentheydosomethingincrediblystupid.
Gesturingwiththeforkandnearlyslingingcinnamonrollbitsaround,shesnaps,“Areyouserious?”
“Unfortunately,yes,andI’msosorryforwhatthey’vedone.Ihadnoideaaboutanyofit,butapparently,theythoughttheywere‘avenging’theclubaftertheinterruptionatthehotel.”
“Notexactlyaneyeforaneye,wasit?”Hervoiceishard,accusingmeasifI’mtheonewhodidthistoher.“Iaccidentallyfellintoyourstupidclubmeetingandembarrassedthefuckoutofmyself.Thosedouchecanoesthoughttheywerebetterthanme,betterthananyofthewomen.Callingusslutsandwhores,makingjokesabouthalfthefuckingpopulationlikethey’reprizestallions.Trustme,they’renot.”
She’srantingasmuchasIwasearlier,thewordspouringforthcoatedinacid.Iunderstandheranger,butsomethinginwhatshesaysstopsmeshort.
Quietly,Iremindher,“Icalledyouthattoo.”
ShouldIapologize?She’slumpingmeinwithAnthonyandhisgroup’sactions,soitfeelslikeIshould.
Sherollshereyesharshlybeforeglaringatme.“That’scompletelydifferent.Andifyoudon’tseethat,we’vegotbiggerissuesthansomeimmaturebroswhoneedalifelessonshoveduptheirass,dryandwithoutprep.”
Ouch.That’dbeoneroughlesson.
Actually…wait…
“You’rerightaboutourbeingdifferent.ButIdon’twanttohurtyou—physically,mentally,oremotionally,andIthinkI’vebeenquiteclearthatyoubringoutsomethinginmethatIdidn’tknowwasthere,soIwantourcommunicationtobefullyopen,always.”Shenods,agreeingwithme.“IwanttotalkaboutAnthonysomemore,though.”
Shehuffsbutmakesa‘goon’gesture,rollingherhand.
“I’mstillnotsurewhattheconsequenceswillbeforhimattheclub,buttherewillhavetobesome.Heclaimedhewasactingforus,onmybehalf,buthemostdefinitelywasnot,andIcan’thavetheotherguysthinkinganythingaboutwhathedidisacceptable.ButIthinkyou’reright.Heneedsalifelessonaboutwomen.”
Anevilideaistakingshapeinmymind.Idoeverythingfortheclub,basicallylive,breathe,andbankrollitbecauseIbelieveinwhatwedoandthepositiveimpactwe’retryingtohave.Butwhatifwecoulddomore?
“Idon’tknowwhat’sonyourmind,butI’mnotfuckinghimandleavinghimswinging-dick-nakedinthecampusquad,andforplausibledeniability’ssake,I’malsonotgoingtoditchhisdeadbodyatapigfarmfordestructionofevidence.”Shetakesbothoptionsoffthetablewithequalcasualnessthatsetsmeback.
“What?You’renotfuckinghim.Ever.”IdigafingertipintothetabletopasifIhaveanysay-soinwhatshedoesordoesn’tdo.ButtheveryideaofSamanthawithsomeoneelse,anyoneelse,makesmejealousashell.SomethingIhavenorighttobe,butI’mhonestenoughwithmyselftoadmitthefeelingisthere,andstrong.“WhywouldyouthinkI’dwantthat?”
Shegrinsandnotes,“Nottooworriedaboutthepigfarm,though?”WhenIdon’tsmileback,toostuckonfuckingheroverthetableinsomecavemanattempttoclaimher,shelaughslightly.“Calmdown,Chance.Youhadthisdiabolicallookonyourface,andJaxxandIalreadycameupwithfiftydifferentwaystofuckthisguyoverifwecouldfindoutwhohewas.AndnowIknow.”
“AnthonyCordram.”Igiveherhisnamewithouthesitation,confidentthathedeservesanypunishmentshedecidestometeout.“ButIhaveanideaforyourconsideration.”
“I’mlistening.”Shetakesanotherbiteofcinnamonrollbutdoesseemopentohearingmyidea.
Ofcourse,she’sprobablyhopingit’llinvolvestringingAnthonyupbyhisdicktoaflagpole,butI’mhopingshe’llthinkthisisbetter.Atleastinthelongrun.
“Cometotheclubanddoaclassforthemembers.Wealreadytalkaboutdating,relationships,sex,andallthat,butit’smeandEvangivingourperspectiveofwhat’sright,successful,andbest.It’samalelens,nomatterwhatwesay.Butwhatifitwasfromyou?You’rebrilliant,canholdyourownagainstanypushback,haveapsychologybackground,andspecializeinimprovedsexlives.You’reperfect!LikeapaidguestspeakerforourownTEDtalk.Whatdoyouthink?”
HerbrowshavebeenscrunchingdownlittlebylittlewhileImademyproposal,butIreallyhopeshe’lldothis.Ithinkit’dbeperfect.
“AndAnthonyandhiscrew?”sheasks.
“Yourstarstudentsbecausefuckknows,theyneedit.They’llsitthere,listen,andlearnortheycangetthehelloutoftheclub.Weneedpeopleopentogrowinganddoingbetter.Iftheyrefuse,I’mnotinvestingmoreofmytimeinthem,”Isaydismissively.
We’veneverkickedanyoneoutoftheclubbefore,butifIhavetodoitforSamantha,Iwill.Inaheartbeat.
“Letmethinkaboutit,”sheanswers,andIcanseehermindalreadywhirlingwithideas,doubts,excitement,andnerves.
Ihopesheagreestodothis.Fortheguys.Thoughhavingherarounddefinitelybenefitsmetoo.
***
“So,wrappingthingsuptoday,yes,youneedtowrapiteverytime.Youareequallyresponsibleforbirthcontrolwithyourpartner,andifyoudon’twanttobeababydaddy,it’sonyoutopreventthatfromhappening.Ifyoudon’tdoyourduediligenceorstatisticsdon’tworkinyourfavor…ahem,cough,cough—I’mtalkingtoyou,two-percenters—thenyouowntheconsequencesaswell.Choosewisely—yourpartner,yourcontraceptive,andyourchildifthesituationarises.”Evanpauses,lettingthatsinkin,andthenfinishes,“I’mEvanWhite—”
“AndI’mChanceHarrington,”Ipickup,“sayingthankyouforjoiningusforanotherepisodeofTwoMenAndAMic.”
Theoutromusicplays,andEvantapshiskeyboard,closingthefeed.“Andwe’re…out,”hesays,sittingbackinhischair.“I’llrunthefeedthroughtheoptimizertoleveloutthesoundfeed,andit’llbeupbymidnight.”
“Cool.”
Evanlooksover,curious.“Yougood?You’vebeenweirdtonight.Notdown,just…yourenergywasoff.Didthecheck-inwithSexToyBarbienotgowell?”
“I’vebeenwondering…hypothetically,”Ireply,knowingI’mbullshittingmyfriend.“Howwouldyoufeelaboutbringingawomanintotalkwiththeguysaboutsomeoftheirissues?Toofferadifferentpointofviewandgiveinsightonthingswecan’t.”
Idon’thavetosaySamantha’sname.WebothknowexactlywhoI’mtalkingabout.
“Honestly?”Evanasks,andInodeventhoughhisjaw’sgonestonetightandIknowwhathe’sthinking.“It’sabadidea.Chance,thereasontheyopenupwithusisbecausetheclubisasafespace.Youbringafemaleinhere?They’llshutrightthefuckup,andit’llturnintoadick-measuringcompetitioninsteadofbrothershavingeachother’sbacks.”
“Butsomearen’tlisteningnowasis,andifshe’snotinterested,they’llhavetolearntobehave.That’slikeBasics101onhowtobeagoodguy.Hell,agoodhumanwhorespectsothers.”
“Theguyswhodon’tlistentousaren’tgonnalistentoawoman.That’stheirissue.They’retheirownworstenemy,butwe’vealwayspulledthemoutoftheshitholeoftheirownmakingandtaughtthemwaystodobetter,”Evanargues.Butseeingmyface,hesighs.“It’snothypothetical,isit?”
“Look,shecanappealtotheminawaywecan’t,”Ioffer.
“Iseewhereyou’regoing,andyou’renotwrong,buttheycouldalsospendthewholetimeposturingandactingliketheydon’tneedhelp,”Evanpointsout.“Idon’tlikeit.”
“Shecanhandlethem,andI’llbehereifsheneedsbackupforanyone.”WebothknowI’mtalkingaboutAnthony,butthereareotherguyswhocouldreallyuseanopportunitytoseeawomanwho’sbright,well-spoken,andstrong.
Especiallyonewhotakesaninterestinhelpingthemlearn.
“Youalreadydidthedeal,didn’tyou?”Evanasks,genuinelyhurt.WhenIdipmychinaffirmatively,headds,“Thisisourthing.Werunthisshiptogether,andyoushould’vecometomefirst.”
He’sright.I’dbepissedashellifhedidsomethinglikethis,andhe’sneverletReaganaffecttheplanswehavefortheclub.ButIalsoreallythinkI’mmakingthebestchoicehere.Fortheclub,theguys,andevenforEvanandme.“I’msorry.Ishould’vediscusseditwithyoufirst.”
Nofrivolitiesorjustifications,justthetruth.That’sthewayitshouldbedone.ButI’malsonotsteppingthedecisionback,soIdon’tofferanyleeway.
Hepusheshischairbackandstandsup,sighing.“Youmadethisdealwithoutme,soifthisblowsup,it’sonyou.Butgiventhatyoualreadysleptwithher,there’sacomplicatingfactorhere.That’sgottostopifshe’sanemployee,orevenacontractor,andyouneedtokeepthathistoryunderwraps.Anyhintofnepotismwillbedamningtobothofus.Andyoursleepingwithanemployeewouldlookevenworse.Thelastthingweneedistohandammunitiontothetrollsonasilverplatter.You’dbeJakeMcGibbons2.0overnight.”
Inod.“Understood.”CHAPTER14SAMANTHA
Theknockonmydoorisloudanddemanding.“Comein!”Ishoutfromthekitchen,alreadyguessingwhoitis.“It’sopen!”
“That’sit?That’sallyou’vegotforyourbestfriendintheworld?Theonewhoissoconcernedaboutyouthatshe’sliterallyearlytoourworksesh?”Lunaasks,bargingin.
She’sschleppinganoversizedbagthat’scoveredwithpinsfromanimeconventions,wearingatanktopandsweatsthat’vebeenchoppedoffattheknees,herblondehairishairpiledupinamessybun,andherblackframedglassesarehalfwaydownhernose.Shehonestlylookslikeabitofadumpsterfire,butthat’sprettymuchherMOonaworkday.You’dneverguessthatshe’slarge,incharge,andwildlysuccessfulinherownright,northatshe’smarriedtoamanwhobasicallyshitsdollarsigns.
Lunadropsherbagonmycouchandthensitsdownonthefloorwithherlegscrisscrossed,makingherselfathome.
Ican’tfightthelaughterherentrancetriggers.Ifthere’sonethingLunaneveris,it’sontime.Ever.She’llstartherdaywiththebestofintentionsandthengetlostinaworldofherownmakingsomewherealongthewayandstoptoscribbleoutplotnotesordrawasceneforhergraphicnovel,Alphena.Atthatpoint,schedulesbecomesuggestions,and‘seveno’clock’becomes‘sometimearoundsunset’.
“Concerned?That’swhatyou’rerollingwith?”Iecho.“Andyou’renotearly,butyouareonlyfifteenminuteslate,sothatprobablyqualifiesforyou.”
“Whatever,”shequipsdismissively.“Spillthegoodstuff.Catchmeuponthe‘Chanceisasexgod’storyline.”Shethrowsherhandshighintheairandsing-songstheteasingreminderofthedescriptionIgaveofChancebeforepushingherglassesuphernosesoshecanhearbetter.
Yeah,thatmakessensewhenitcomestoLuna.
Isetabowlofpopcornandmyhuge,insulatedtumbleronthecoffeetable,thencurlupinmyfavoritechair.“Shouldn’tweworkfirst?Ourforty-five/fifteendealonlyworkswhenwedotheworkpartfirst.”
LunaandIhavebeendoingthesesprintsessionstogetherforyearsatthispoint.Istudy,shedraws,andthenwetakebreakstostayfresh,butwealwaysstartwithwork.Always.
“Rules,schmules.SpillitorI’mgoingtostarttalkingaboutart.”WhenIdon’timmediatelygiveintoherthreat,shestarts,“Michelangelo’sfamousDavidsculpturenotablyrepresentsthebiblicalsubjectpre-battlewithGoliath,adistinctdifference—”
“Okay,okay…stop!”Ishout,coveringmyearswithmyhandsandclosingmyeyestotuneherout.“YouknowIhateitwhenyougoalltourguideonme.”
Ifeelanudgeonmykneeandcrackoneeye.Luna’sglareisamplifiedbyherglasses,andIcanseetheoneraisedbrowaboveherframes.Mostimportantly,hermouthisn’tmoving,whichmeansshe’snottalkingaboutartanymore.Thankfuck!
She’sagreattourguide,I’llgiveherthat,butIhavezerointerestinherfavoritesubject.Whichiskindaironicbecausebackwhenwemet,shewasavirginandIwasplanningmycareerasasexandrelationshiptherapist.Oppositesattractisn’tonlyaboutromance,butfriendshiptoo.
AsIlowermyhands,Luna’sinherrarely-seenboss-babemode,forcefullytellingme,“Youwantedthissprint,andIdon’tthinkit’sbecauseyouneedtostudy.Youdon’thaveatestforweeks.”
“Howdoyouknowthat?”Iask,mybrowsfurrowedinsurpriseatheruttercertaintyofmyschedule.
“Iknoweverything.Includingthatyouwanttotalk,soquitstalling.”Luna’sright,aboutallofit,butI’malsoreallyproudofherpersonalgrowthtocallmeonmyownshit.Sheusedtobepainfullyshyandthebarestside-eyedglancewouldmakeherself-consciousfordays,butnow?She’sabeast.Aquiet,sweetone,butapowerhousenonetheless,writingherownticketforherwork,butalsohertimeandattention.
SoIgettoit.Becausewhenthenicestpersonyouknowtellsyouthatyou’rewimpingout,she’slikelybeingoverlygentleandyou’reactuallybeingafull-outfuckingcoward.AndIamnotoneofthose.
“Ihadareallyshittydayacoupleofdaysago.JaxxandIweredoingaparty,anditwasgoingsogood.Weweresellinghandovercocks”—Imimejackingoffadick—“rightupuntilsomeassholeswithlegsdecidedtoplaywhack-a-dickwithourmerchandise.Theystolesometoo,runningoutwithourtoyslikedine-and-dashersbailingonahundred-dollartab.”
Sheinterruptstoask,“Doyouneedsomefundingtoreplacethose?Loanorgift,I’vegotyou,girl.”
Ismilesoftlyathergenerousoffer.Weusedtobeequallybroke—forreal,onebrickofRamennoodlesplitintothreemealsfortheday,pickabilltopayandprayfortherestkindofbroke.Now,she’ssobankrolledthatshedoesn’tevencallitmoneyanymore.It’sfunding,becausesheworksintheseven-figurearenaataminimumfordeals.Butshe’sstillmybestfriendwho’ddoanythingforme.Includingpayingformystolenfakephalluses.
“Thankyou,butJaxxandIhaveaplantogetouttathered.”Theimmediateworryevaporatesfromhereyes,andIcontinuewithmyupdate.“Butthere’ssomegoodluckinthebadcircumstancesbecauseChancecalledme.Finally.”AtLuna’squestioninglook,Iexplain,“Thethievingassholeswerehisguys,anditpissedhimoffbigtime.HerakedoneoftheguysuponesideanddowntheothersobadlyheneededNeosporinfortheburn,andthenhecalledmetomeetsohecouldapologize.”
“That’snice.”Luna’sworkinghardtogivenothingaway,butIknowhertoowellandcanseethatshe’sfoamingatthemouthtosaywhatshethinksaboutChance’sreaction.ButI’mstickingtothepointoftoday’ssprintsession,whichadmittedlyisn’tonlyworkforme.
“Hefeelslikesomeoftheguysaren’tgettingthemessageshe’ssendingandthatmaybehearingitfromthesourceisawaytobeatitintotheirheads.Thisone…”Itapmyhead.“Notthisone,”Icircleovermycrotchregion.“SoenterSamantha,theManEducator.”
“Thewhat?”Lunaasks,laughinglikeshe’ssureshemisheard.
Ilaughtoo,becauseIsaidexactlywhatshethinksIdid.
Thisidea,eventhoughChanceexplaineditatlengthandwetalkedaboutpossibletopics,iscrazy.I’mastudent,notsomehotshotpsychologist.ButChanceswearsthat’swhat’llmaketheguyslistentome.Insomeways,Iamthem—samegeneralage,workinghardatschool,planningformyfuture—allthingsChancesayshisguysaregoingthroughtoo.
“Right?I’llhavetocomeupwithadifferentname—maybetheWomansplainer?Youknowlikemansplaining,butwomansplaining.”Notlikingthateither,Iwavemyhandsthroughtheair,wipingthatoptionaway.“ButChancewantstohiremetodoclassesathisclub.”
Lunashakesherhead,rattlingherthoughtsloose.“Chance…wantsyou…inhisboys-onlyclub…totalkaboutsex?”shesaysinbrokenbitsassheputsittogether.
“Well,gender,relationships…andyeah,lotsofsex,”Iadmitasshestaresatmedisbelievingly.“That’swhyIwantedtodoasprint.Ineedtoworkontheoutlineformyfirstclass.”
“I’mstuckonhimnotonlylettingyou,butwantingyou,inhisdicks-requiredclub.Totalktotheguys,ofcourse,becausewe’vealreadyestablishedthathewantsyouhere,there,andeverywhere.”Shesmilesevilly,andforamomentIcanseeherballsyalter-egoinherexpression.“Thisisamajorimprovementforhim,Samantha.Idon’tknowifyouunderstandhowmuchofanuptight,goodsoldierheusuallyis.He’sgotrulesforhisrules.I’msurprisedhedidn’thaveyousignaretroactiveNDAonceyouknewwhohewas.”
Shethinksshe’sright,Icanseeitinhereyes.Butshedoesn’tknowChancethewayIdo.“Excepthe’snotlikethat.Atleast,notwithme.”
Shenods,butitfeelsabitpatronizing.“Ofcourse,sure.Uh,whatareyougoingtodoforyourfirstsession?”sheasks,tryingtostepitbackbecauseIsoundabitannoyedatherassessmentofChance.NotthatIhaveanyreasontobe,butI’moffendedonhisbehalf.
“I’mgoinginboldandobscene.Ithinkthey’llrespondtoastrong,informative,bebetterinbedinonehourdeal.AndifI’mpromisingorgasms,who’sgonnatellmetoshutupandgetout?”
Lunalaughssohardshefallsoverintothecoffeetableandusesittostaysemi-upright.“Uh,probablyChanceandEvan,butIwouldn’texpectanythingelsefromyou.Tobeclear,youmeanconversationalorgasms,notactualones,right?”WhenItwistmylipssarcastically,sheswitchesgears.“DoesChanceknowyourtopicdujourisgoingtobe‘BeaGreatFucker,NotaFuckUp’yet?”
Iblinkatherbrilliance.Holdinguponefinger,Iscribblethatdownonmytabletscreenasapossibletitle.OnceI’vegotthatandafewotherideasnoted,Ishrug.“HeknowsmyspecialtiesandwhatI’mbringingtothetable.Hecanbeokaywithit,orIcanbounce.”
I’mnotgoingtoholdbackfromgivingtheguyswhattheyneed,evenifit’sakickintheass.Literally.AndChancedidn’tgivemeanyrestrictionsorguidelines,justsaidtohelpthembegoodmen.That’shismissioninfivewords,basically,andIcansupportthat.AslongasIcantellthemhowtolickaclitaspartofthateducation.
Lunaseemsunsure,andIeatacoupleofhandfulsofpopcornasIwaitforhertogetherthoughtstogether.“Becareful,Samantha.That’sall.Chanceputsonagoodfront—confident,strong,proud.ButI’veseenhimwithCarterandtherestofthebrothers.It’snotalwayspretty.HewasthefirstonetowalkawayfromCharles,whichtooksomebigbrassones,buthepaidaprice.Forawhile,Ithinkhewaslookedatasatraitortothefamily.”
Thatisnewinformationtome.
I’veheardaboutLuna’sin-laws,CharlesandMiranda,andallofCarter’ssiblings,includingChance.Butthey’reallscatteredaroundtown,doingtheirownthings.CameronistheonlyonefollowinginDaddyHarrington’sfootstepsatthefamilybusinessnow.Carter’sdoingprivateestatemanagementforthesamewomanLunamanagestheartcollectionfor.Coleseemstodipinandoutrandomly,andthegoingtheoriesarethathe’saspy,anescort,orboth.Butthat’sajoke,notserioussuspicion.Kyleistheblacksheepofthefamily,doingwhateverhewants,whichseemstobeflippinghismiddlefingeratanythinghisfatherholdsdear.AndKaylaishermother’sright-handwoman.
“Goodsoldierfamilymanisthetraitor?”Iecho,confusedashellbecausenothingaboutChanceisworthyofthattitle.
“Notnow,”Lunarushestoclarify,“butintheearlydays,whenhewasstrugglingoverhisidealisticdreamofmakingtheworldabetterplace?Yeah,that’snotreallyCharles’slovelanguage.Andtheclub,howeverunusualitmightbetous,isChance’sbaby.Just…don’tmessitupforhim,’kay?”
ShemakesitsoundlikeI’mgoinginwithblow-updollsasballoondécorforaninformationalsessiononmakingawomanscreaminecstasywithfirst-handdemonstrations.WhichI’mnotdoing…theblow-updollsorthedemos.Well,notfirst-handonesatleast,butaframe-by-framedissectionofskillinapre-selectedvideoisstillanoption.Ithink.
“Iwon’t,”Ipromise,holdingoutmypinkiefinger.Shewrapshersaroundmine,andweliftandlowerthemthreetimes,silentlyvowingtoholdthepinkiepromiseintheutmostesteem.“Youreadytogettowork?”Iaskher,andshenodsabsently.I’vealreadylosthertoAlphenaandwhateverideasshe’scookingupinthatmindofhers.
“Hey,Alexa,setanalarmforforty-fiveminutes.”
“Alarmsetforthree-oh-twop.m.”
“Let’sgo,girl.Onyourmark,getset,gitit!”ItellLunaasAlexastartsourtimer.Lunagavemealottothinkabout,butfirst,Ihavetodoanoutlineforthisclass.IfIgetupthereandstutterandstammerwithnorealgameplan,theyaregoingtoeatmealive.Andnotinagoodcunnilingussortofway,butrather,anuncomfortable,awkwardsessionofQ-and-Asthat’llputmypracticetherapyroundstoshame.
Icanhearthemnow…
“What’syourO-facelooklike?”
“HowcanIgetagirltodeepthroatmewithoutpukingallovermydick?”
“Ifshe’sreallytight,canshebreakmypenis?”
PlusbasicallyeveryawfuldefinitionfromUrbanDictionarythathastodowithsex.Donkeyshow?DirtySanchez?Superman?
AndIdonotwantthat.SoIgettowork,sidebyside,withLunadrawinghersuperheroalter-egoonhertabletandmetypingonmylaptoptocreateaclassthat’llbeinformative,helpful,andnotinvolvemesayingfilthythingstoaroomfullofguyswho’dratherfuckwithmethanfuckmebutwouldbehappytogoeitherway.CHAPTER15SAMANTHA
WalkingintotheClubhouseforclass,Ican’thelpthebutterfliesinmystomach.BeingtheonlywomanheremakesmefeellikeIstandout,inatargetacquiredsortofway.ThismustbewhatDanielfeltlikewhenhewasthrownintothelion’sden.Getit…themascotisalion?
Eventhetinyinnerjokewithmyselfdoesn’teasemynerves,andIrepeatmymentalchecklistoncemore,knowingthatnothing’schangedsinceIdiditthelasttentimes.
I’mdressedconservatively,inabluepantsuit,withmyhairpulledupintoabunthat’snotmessy,butnotlibrariantight,either.Everything’scoveredandnofantasyspankbankmaterialthere.Mymakeup?Lightandagain,toneddown.Nocum-swatterlashesorsuck-meredlipstick.
It’sridiculousthatthesethingsareevennecessary,butIwanttolooklikeI’mhereforbusinessandtopreemptivelynotgiveanyoftheseman-childrenthewrongidea.
AndthenmaybeIcanlearnsomethingfromthisclasstimetoo.
Thesemenaregoingtogrowintomyfutureclients,theirpartnerssittingattheirsidewonderingwhyhe’sstuckonfacedown-assupastheonlyacceptablesexualposition.ButifIcanreachthemnow,Icanhelpchangethatfuturesothatthere’sabetteroutcomeforall.
Oratleastthat’smyhope.Andmyjob.
TheentrancetotheClubhouseiswelcoming,oritwouldbeifmystomachwasn’tflip-floppinglikecrazy.
Oh,shit!Isthereevenawomen’srestroomhere?Ididn’tseeonewhenChanceandIdidouralarm-check,somaybethere’snotone?
Theideastopsmeinmytracks,rightoutsidethedoubledoors,thoughIshiftfromoneheeledfoottotheother,consideringmyoptions.Logicandreasonremindmeamomentlaterthatit’srequiredbycode,soI’mprobablyokaythere.NotthatIwanttopeeinabuildingfullofguys,anyway.ThefearofbeingthatvulnerablemeansIprobablycouldn’trelaxmybladderenough,anyway.
Ishakemyheadtorattletherandomthoughtslooseandfocusonmymission.Openingthedoor,I’mhitwithafaintblastofcoolairandaclean,woodsyscent.Itthankfullydoesn’tsmelllikesweatyballsandunshoweredassholes.
Chanceiswaitingforme,perchedonthelightlystainedoakreceptiondeskwithhislegsstretchedoutinfrontofhim,crossedattheankles,andhisarmslacedoverhischest.He’sdressedinastunningsuit,athree-pieceblueonethatmakeshiseyespop,withaburntorangepatternedtiethatmakeshimlookpowerfulbutfashionable.
“Thoughtyouweregonnabail,”heteasesstraight-faced,andIrealizethathecouldseemefreakingoutontheothersideofthefrontdoors.
“Nope,washopingIdon’tpissmyselfwhenaroomfulofbrosseelilolemeintheirmidst.”Isayitlightly,likeI’mjokingback,butit’smoretruthfulthanI’dcaretoadmit.
Concernfillshisfaceinstantlyashepushesoffthedesktocomecloser.“Samantha,you’resafehere.Ipromise.”
InoddiplomaticallyeventhoughIdon’tfullybelievehim.HetrulythinksI’msafe,buthe’sneverwalkedintoaspacefeelinganythinglessthanpowerfulandinchargeofhisowndestiny.I’mdaysawayfrombeingharassedinpublicforsimplydoingbusiness.Andtheguywhodiditisgoingtobeinmyclass.
“WelcometoTheGentlemen’sClub,”Chancesaysformally,takingmyhand.Thoughthehandshakeisprofessional,hiseyessmolder,remindingmethatwe’realreadymuchcloserthanpolitehandshakes.“Thisismypartner,EvanWhite.”
Anothermanstepsforward.Hisdarkhairisside-sweptloosely,hisherringbonepatternedsuitsurprisinglyuntraditional,andhissmilecharminglyinviting.Buthisgazeisshrewd,measuringmeheadtotoeaswellastheinchesbetweenChanceandme.
“Nicetomeetyou,”hesays,extendinghishand.
Shakinghishand,Itaunt,“Twobigbrainsbetweenyouandyoustillcouldn’tcomeupwithanamethatdoesn’tsoundlikeastripclub?”
Chancelaughsoutrightatthecomment.Evan’sliptwitches,buthedoesn’tsomuchascrackasmile.“Wouldyoulikeanofficialtour?”
TheacerbictoneofhisofferletsmeknowthatChancetoldhimaboutmycomingherealready.Rulesixhasalreadybeensmashedtosmithereens,andI’mcomingintokicktheremnantsaway.AndEvanisn’tafan—ofmeormypresenceinhissecondhome.
Decidinghistip-toethroughthelandmineapproachisn’tgoingtogetusanywherefast,Igofull-frontal,center-massassault.“Look,Igetwhatyou’retryingtodohere.Men’sclubsaren’tinherentlyawful,aslongasyou’renotexcludingwomenfromopportunities,whichdoesn’tsoundlikewhatyou’redoing.Isupportyourtryingtohelpyoungmenbecomekind,successful,emotionallyawaremenwho’llenterrelationships,professionalandpersonal,withtheireyeswideopen.I’mheretohelpwiththat,ifyouwantit.Ifnot,I’llgo.”
Evan’seyeshavewidenedincrementallyasIspeak,hiseyebrowsclimbingatthesametime.Outofthesideofhismouth,hegrumblestoChance,“Fine,you’reright.She’sperfect.”
ChancesmacksEvanonthebackinabro-likemove.“Toldyou.Now,tour?”
Westartdownthehallway,andIcanfeeltheeyesonmeandthewhispersfromthefewboysalreadyhere.Aswepasstheweightroom,Ichuckle.“IfeellikeWendyamongtheLostBoys.”
“Thankfully,we’vegotnoTinkerBelltosabotageyou,”Chancesays.“Anduphereisoneofourmultipurposerooms.Wedocounselingsessionshere,butalso,theguyscanreserveitfortheirownusage,likeifthey’vegothomeworktheyneedcompletesilencefororifacoupleoftheguysaregettingtogether.There’safewsubgroupshere—aDungeonsandDragonsgroup,aband,andabunchofinvestmentguys.”
IlookinsidebecausethoughIsawthisareawhenwewalkedthespacebefore,thatwaswithafear-filledfocusthatsomebodywasgoingtojumpoutateveryturn.Seeingitinthedaylight,asmynewworkplace,isanentirelydifferentvibe.“Nice,”Icompliment,andEvannodsapprovingly.I’mwinninghimoverbydegrees.“Betterthanthestudypodsoncampusforsure.”
“Wehaveadedicatedcounselingroomtoo,”Evansays.“Ifthingsgowellandyou’recomfortable,maybeyoucoulddosomeone-on-onetalkswiththeguys?Youcouldchoosewhatspaceyouprefer.”
Ismileathimthankfully.“I’dlikethat.”Afterabeat,Iadd,“Butlet’sseehowtodaygoes.”
“It’sgoingtobegreat,”Chanceproclaimsasifhecanmakeitsobysimplystatingitintoexistence.“Anthonyshouldalreadybesettinguptheroomforyou.”
“Partofhispenance?”Iassume,andwhenChanceflinches,IknowI’mcorrect.“DoeshisparolealsoincludegettingmeaSprite?I’mafraidI’lllosemyvoicetalkingforawholehour,andthebubbleswouldprobablybegoodformynervousbelly.”
“I’llgetyouone,”Evanassuresme.
Upahead,Iseeanolderman,hisbellyslightlystretchingoutthefrontofhisgraypoloshirtabovehisblackpantsandleatherbelt.
“ThisisJimDelaney,ourheadofsecurity,”Chancesays,wavingthemanover.“Jim,ournewpart-timementor,SamanthaRedding.”
“Hmph,headofsecurity?I’mthehead,body,andlegsofit.Aone-manshow,ifyawill,”Jimsays,hisvoicegruffandlow,buthe’ssmilingwelcomingly.“G’ta-meet-cha.”Hiswordsallruntogetherasheextendshishand,butIgetthathe’shappytomeetmeandsmilebackasweshake.“ButI’mmahopin’yougotsomethickskintodealwiththeseboysandamaybeawoodenspoontobeat‘emupsidethehead.Ifnot,youcallOl’JimandI’llsort‘emforya.Alreadyofftoabadstarttoday.”
“Whathappened?”Iask,worrybloomingandafreshroundofbubblesgurglinginmystomach.
Jimgrumbles.“Oh,nothingtooserious,justboysbeingdumbasses.Ifsomeonewould’ashownthesepupsthepowerofbeltstoassesbackwhentheyactuallywerepups,itwouldn’tevenbeaproblem.Imightnot’abeabletodoitma’selfthesedays—lawsandall—butIcanshow‘emthattheyain’tallthat,nomatterwhattheirdaddiestell’em.”
Ican’thelpbutgiggleattheideaofOl’JimfightingAnthonytoteachhimalessonforhisbehavior.Violencemightnotberight,butOl’JimmighthaveapointthatifAnthonyeverhadsomeonemorepowerfulthanhimputhiminhisplace,hemightnotbesuchabullyingass.
ButJim’snotdone.“Inmyday,wehadrealmen.Notabunchofboyswhocan’tchangeatireontheirelectriccarwithoutcomplainingaboutgettingablisterontheirpinkyfingers-”Heholdsupagnarledhand,pinkieextendedandwiggling,“oralildirtontheiruncreasedtennyshoes.”Hehuffs,rollinghiseyes.Ican’thelpbutlookdownathiswell-worn,butpainstakinglypolished,blackleathershoes.They’rehonesttoGodworkshoes,notDocMartensoranythinglikethat…buttheylooklikethey’veseenathousandmilesandcouldgoathousandmore.
JimDelaneyisamanofanothergeneration,andI’mabitsurprisedthatChanceandEvanhiredhim.Heseemssodiametricallyold-schoolcomparedtoeverythingthey’repreaching.
“Jim,youcouldcertainlyteachthemafewthings,”Chanceoffers,soundinglikethisarepeatconversation.“MaybewecanputyoudownforaSaturdaycarmaintenanceclass?”
Jimgrumbles,“Nah,Iain’tteachingtheseyoung’unsthatshit.Wasteofmydamntime,they’llenduppayingsomeonetodoitanyways.Eventhoughtheycoulddoitthemselvesif’ntheygavehalf-a-shit.”
“Mm-hmm.”Chancedoesn’tagreeordisagree,andI’dbetmyleftovarythathe’sneverchangedatireinhislife.“Well,ifyouchangeyourmind,letmeknow.Butwe’vegottofinishthetourandgetSamanthasetup.”
“Yeah,yeah.LikeIsaid,welcome,”Jimsays,wavingusofflikehe’sdismissingusfromhispresenceratherthantheotherwayaround.
Wegettotheendofthehallway,whereChanceopensthedoorwithaflourish.“Andhere’swherethemagichappens,”hesaysproudly.
Insideisamediasetupwithtables,chairs,andawholelotofelectronics.Judgingbythemicrophones,Isay,“Thisiswhereyoudothepodcast?”
“Yes,”Chanceanswers.“Haveyoulistened?”
Icringe.“Notyet.IwasalittlenervousaboutwhatI’dhear,”Iadmitandthenreluctantlyadd,“Men’spodcastsaren’texactlyknownforbeingfemalelistenerfriendly.”
Chancelookshurt,whichwasn’tmyintention,andIhavetofightmyselffromtakinghishandtoapologize.
“That’sokay.Youcantuneintothenextone.”Evan’sacceptanceofmylackofengagementwiththepodcastismucheasierwon,butImakemyselfamentalnotetogobackandlistentoseveralepisodestoseewhatthey’relike.Itshouldbequick.I’vebecomeanexpertatlisteningtovideosat1.25speedinordertostudymoreinlesstime.
BecauseifI’mworkingwiththemnow,andifI’massociatingwithTheGentlemen’sClub,IshouldknowwhatChanceandEvanareputtingoutthere,notonlywhattheysayandthinktheyare.Afterall,thereareplentyoftoxicassholeswithamicrophonewhothinkthey’reGod’ssecondcoming,butthey’reactuallythedevilinthebarestofdisguises.
Weleavethepodcastroomandgodownthehall,aroundacoupleofcorners,Chancespeakingthewholetime.“There’sonelastroom,wherewehaveourgroupmeetings,”hesays.“Thisiswherewe’vearrangedforyourclasstoday.”
“I’mokaywiththat,”Ireply,andEvansnickers.“What?”
“Yousaythatnow,”Evansaysasheopensthedoorforme.“Let’sseehowyoufeelinanhour.”
Inside,themeetingroomislargeandopen,probablyusedfrequentlyforitsflexibility.Thefloorishardwoodthatlooksoriginaltotheolderbuilding,withwearandtearobviousunderagleamingfreshcoatofpolyurethane.Alongonewallarehighstacksofchairs,andatthefrontthere’sapodiumstandingominouslyalone.
Thereareroughlythirtyguysseatedinrows,mostofthemslightlyyoungerthanme,I’dguess.
“Gentlemen,”Chancesaysashecomfortablytakesthepodium,andIcanseethedispleasureinhiseyesatthecasualappearanceofafewoftheguyswhoareinsweats,sockswithslides,oraresprawledoutintheirchairslikeweinterruptedtheirnaptime.Onthefrontrow,IcanseethatoneofthemisAnthonyCordram,lookingannoyedandangrythathe’shere.“LetmeintroduceSamanthaRedding.She’sgraciouslyagreedtoholdaclassforustoday,highlightingthingsfromthefemaleperspective.Normally,Iwouldn’tfeeltheneedtoremindyouofthis,butgivenrecentcircumstances,rememberyourmannerswhenyouspeaktoher.She’sMissRedding,understood?”
“Yeah,”oneoftheboyssays.“MissRedding.”
There’sapproximatelyzerorespectormannersonmynameinhismouth,andIhavetochoosehowtodealwiththat.Rightnow.Becauseit’llsetthetoneforthewholeclass.
“Thankyou,”Ireplystifflyandequallydisdainfully,steppingforwarduntilI’mrightinfrontofhimandstaringdirectlyintohiseyes.“Andyouare?”
“LucasWalker,”hesays,reluctantlystickingoutahandwhenEvanglowersathim.Weshake,andIgoaroundtheroom,meetingmoreoftheboys.
IgivebackthesameenergyIgetfromeachoneintentionally.Some,morewarmly.Some,flat-outbitchy.Whenoneguyleaveshisfootoutintheaisle,purposefullyinmyway,Ilowstepoverhimtoslidemysharpheeloverhisshin,knowingitwon’thurthim,butit’llmakemypointclear.Itworks,andeveryotherguymoveshislegsquickly,someevensittingupstraightasIapproach.
BythetimeI’vewalkedtheroom,I’mincharge,thoughthereareseveralwhoaren’thappyaboutit.Chancewavesmeforward,andIjoinhimatthepodium.“Gentlemen,IwantedtoletMissReddingtellyouherselfwhatshe’llbedoinghere.Soplease,MissRedding?”
He’sintentionallyrepeatingmyname,drummingitintotheguys’heads.Andmaybelater,there’llbesomethingsexyabouthimcallingmethat…whileonhiskneesworshipingatmyvaginalaltar.Butrightnow,it’sshowtime.
Swallowingmynervousness,ItakeadeepbreathasChanceleavesmealoneatthepodium.ButI’mnotsinking,I’mrisingtotheoccasionlikearocket-fueleddickonabirthday.Pullingmylaptopfrommybag,Isyncittothescreenbehindmeanduppopsmypresentation,completewithslides.
“Okay,boringstuff…I’mSamanthaRedding,agraduatestudentattheuniversity,finishingmydegreetobecomeapsychologistspecializinginrelationships.Specifically,intimaterelationships.”Iclickabutton,movingfrommyintroductionslide.“Lessboringstuff…Mr.Harringtonaskedmeheretohelpyouwithissuesrelatingtosex,gender,andrelationships.”
“Thatgonnainvolvedemoswithyourtoys,Barbie?”Anthonymumbles.It’squiet,underhisbreath,buthemakessureit’sloudenoughformetohear.
“Anthony!”Chanceshoutsfromthesideline,readytojumpin,andbythelooksofit,jumpAnthonytoteachhimalesson.TheguysaroundAnthonygofromgigglingquietlytozippedupsilentinaninstantatChance’srebuff,butAnthonylooksproudofhimself.
Iholdupahand,stayingChance’sdefense.Idon’tneedhimtohandlethisforme.
“I’dbehappytoshowyouhowsomeofthetoysworktoimproveyoursexlifeandmakeyourpartnerhappier.Or…”Idropmyvoice,stagewhisperingconspiratorially,“IcanhelpyoudecideonafleshlightforyourpersonaluseyourselfsinceI’mprettysureapocketpussy’salltheactionyou’regetting.Andit’sMissRedding,Mr.Cordram.”
“Oooh…”
“Slickburn,MissR!”
“Fuck,shegotyougood!Likesheknowsyouain’tgotnogame,A!”
Approvalformymanagementstyleabounds,butChanceandEvanseemuncertain.AndAnthonylooksembarrassed,soIpulltheattentionawayfromhim,hopinghelearnedalessonabouttryingtogoadmeinclass.
“Onthatnote,Ithoughttoday’stopicneededtobebold.Youdon’twanttohearmetalkabouthowyoushouldaskgirlsondates,whattosayinyourDMs,andhowtogetoutofthe‘friendzone’—whichdoesn’tactuallyexist.”Ithrowoutthedeclaration,knowingit’llgettheirattention,andamrewardedwithseveral‘what?’and‘huh?’responsesthroughoutthegroup.“Though,ifthisgoeswell,Iwillcoverallthosetopicsandmoreinfutureclasses.Buttoday,Ithought,whatdoyouneedtoknowrightnow,today,tobebetterthatIhavetheknowledge,experience,andeducationtoteachyou?”
Iclicktothenextslideandreadaloud,“BeaGreatFucker,NotaFuck-Up.”There’sagaspofshockacrosstheroom,butIsmilemildlyasifI’vesaidnothingunusual.“Mysister-in-lawcameupwiththetitle,thoughIdon’tthinksheactuallythoughtI’duseit.”IpretendtobecontemplativebecauseIknewtheinstantLunasaidthatwhatIwasgoingtocoverforthisclasstogettheguysonthehooksoIcandomoreemotionalintelligencetypeclassesinthefuture.IfIgointalkingfeelings,they’llcheckout.Goinpromisingorgasms,they’llcomebackformoreeverytime.
“Whatdoyouguysthink?I’mplanninganosugar-coated,step-by-steplessononhowtobethebestlayyourpartner’severhad.Becausenewsflash,womenlikesextoo.Andfunfactnumberone,ifyou’reoutthereinthesestreetswithwomensoundinglikeapornsoundtrackandyou’refeelinglikearockstar,Icanguaranteeyou,she’sfakingandyou’reshitinthesack.Anyoneinterestedyet?”
Everysingleguyissittingup,leaningforwardwithraptattention.IglanceatChanceandEvanwholookhorrified,theirmouthsopen.WhenIflashawinktoChance,heswallowsthicklyandslowlygrins.HebackhandsEvan’schest,andthoughIcan’thearwhathesays,itseemslikehe’sreassuringEvanthatthis’llbefine.
Ihopehe’sright.CHAPTER16CHANCE
StandingontheedgeoftheroomnexttoEvan,IhavetosayI’mimpressedbySamantha’spresence.Shewasnoticeablynervousatfirst,butherbackboneisstrongerthanthetornadooftestosteroneinthisroom.Andnowthatshe’sactivelytalkingandteaching,she’sgottheentireroominthepalmofherhand.
She’sdoingwhatsomanygoodpublicspeakersdoalmostunconsciously.Whetherthey’repoliticians,motivationalspeakers,orchurchministers,theypsychoanalyzetheroomonthefly.
Andbecauseofthat,thewatchfuleyeIhadatfirstontheguystomakesurenobodygotoutofhandhasturnedtowardSamantha.Theguys,whowillbowuptomeandEvanalmostdaily,whocanbarelygetthroughadaywithoutsomeformofdickwagging…arelikelittlelovesickpuppieswithher.
It’salmostunbelievable.
AndthoughI’membarrassedtoadmitit,I’velearnedsomethingsfromhertoo.Soassheclickstoaslideabouterogenouszones,I’mallears.
“Namethree,”shedemands,pointingtoLucas.
“Clit,nipples,cervix,”heanswerseasily.
Samanthagolfclapsandsmilesapprovingly.“Yougetbonuspointsforappropriatenamesandthatyounamedfemaleonesfirst,notdick,rightball,leftball.”Theguyslaughalongwithher.“Andyes,theclitoris—whichremember,islocatedatthetopofthevulva”shesays,remindingthemofheranatomyslidefromearlier,“thenipples,andthecervix.Thoughthatlastoneisayour-mileage-may-varyexperience.Somewomenloveforyoutobangitlikeadrum,whileothersaregoingtopuntyouacrosstheroomifyoubumpittoohard.So,whatdowedo?”sheprompts.
“Askwhattheylike—before,during,andafter,”Stephenanswers,quotingSamantha’sadvice.He’sbeenlisteningclosely,respectfullytakingnotesandeventakingpicturesofsomeofSamantha’sslidesforlaterreference.I’mgladtoseehimcomingoutofhisshellalittlebit,evenspeakingup,givenhisusuallyquietnature.
“Exactly,”Samanthapraises,andStephenbeamsbackather.“Canyounamethreemore?”sheaskshim.
Pinkflusheshischeeks,buthecomplies.“Uhm,ears,mouth,andneck?”
“Yes!”Shepumpsherfistlikehewonthenationalspellingbeewithaseven-syllabletrickword.“More.Whoelse?”
Theguysarecallingoutbodypartslikeit’sanauction.
“Handsandfeet!”
“Backofknees!”
“Head.Stomach!”
“Good,good.Thosearetrueforeveryone.Now,whataboutmalespecific?”sheasks.
“Dick,rightball,leftball,”Anthonyanswerswryly,quotingherearlierstatementandshowingthathe’satleastpayingattention.
Shenodsathim.“Anywhereelse?”
Heswallowsbutreluctantlyadds,“Asshole,prostate.”
“Yes!”Samanthashouts,soundingnearlyorgasmicherself.OratleastitwouldsoundorgasmicifIhadn’tactuallyheardhersoundspersonally.
Anthonygrinsandasksher,“Likethose,doyou?”
Smiling,Samanthaanswers,“Thepointisthatpeoplelikethem.Don’tgotabA,slotB,andassumeit’llbegood.There’sanentirebodyinfrontofyou—bothyoursandyourpartner’s—soplayaround.Lick,touch,kiss,bite,suckitallover.It’stheonlywaytofigureoutwhereyouandyourpartnerenjoyattention.”Sheclickstheslidetooneshowingtheentirehumanbodywitharrowsupanddownthefiguretonoteerogenouszones,andtwopull-outstothesideshowingmaleandfemaleanatomypointsofinterest.“Takenotes—writeitdown,takeapicture,orwhatever.You’llthankmelater.”
Shestepsaside,givingtheguysamoment,andI’msurprisedtoseeeventheoneswho’vebeenalittlereluctanttoparticipategrabtheirphonestosnapaquickpictureforreference.
“Good.Nowlet’sdiscussoralsex—cunnilingusandfellatio,”shesays,glancingatherwatch.“Andthenwe’llmoveontoactualintercourse,includingvaginalandanal.”
Isweartofuck,I’mgoingtocomeinmyslacksifshekeepstalkinglikethis.It’sallprofessionalandeducational,butI’mnottheonlymanshiftingaround.
Anhourlater,I’vebasicallytakentostandingwithmyhandsovermycrotchandthinkingaboutmultiplicationtablesbeyondonethousandtokeepmydickfromnoticeablytwitching.EverytimeSamanthasayspenetration,Iwanttothrowhertothegroundandpenetrateher—mouth,pussy,andass.Whatevershewants,wherevershe’lltakeme.
“Remember,there’sthiswholemystiqueaboutanalsex,butit’sreallynotthatbigofadeal.It’sanorifice,justlikeanyothers,andweallhaveone,sothere’snoneedforittobethismagicalthing.Ifyouoryourpartnerlikeit,givingorreceiving,that’sfineandunderstandable.Thereareloadsofnerveendings,andformen,theprostate’sthere,sostimulationisnaturallypleasurable.Butifyouoryourpartnerdon’tlikeitatalloronlylikeitonedirection—youorthemreceiving,that’sfinetoo.”
Shepauses,lettingitsinkinthatwhiletheymightautomaticallythinkoffuckingsomeone’sass,maybesomeoftheguysmightenjoybeingpegged.I’veneverdonethatmyself,butgiveneverythingelseI’mexploringwithSamantha,andthewaywebothlikedmythumbinherass,maybeweneedtoaddalittlebackdoorplayformetoo?I’veneverthoughtaboutit,anddefinitelyneverseriouslyconsideredit,butnow?I’mnotgonnasayIdon’tlikeituntilItryit,butmyassholeinvoluntarilyconstrictsindisagreement.
“Butifyou’reconsensuallyexploring,remembertogosloooooow,”Samanthadrawlsout,“anduselubricationbecauseit’sanon-lubricatingorifice,unlikeamouthorvagina.Andnotyourjack-offlotion,”sheaddssharply.“Yourhandscanhandlethat.Ananuscannot.”
Guysnodlikethey’remakingplansfortonight,andSamanthasmiles.
“Okay,Ithinkwehaveaboutfiveminutesleft.Questions?”
Almosteveryhandintheroomgoesup.
“Oh!Mighthavetomakethesequickies,”shejokes,laughing.
“Damn,”EvanwhispersasSamanthaanswerstheguys’thankfullyappropriatequestions.“She’sawesome.Maybeyouwereright…wecouldhavedonethissooner.”
“You’readmittingIwasrightandyouwerewrong?”Iwhisperback,andEvanrollshiseyes.“Iwasjustlucky,man.”
“Evenso,seeifshe’lldoawholeseriesofclassescoveringsex,relationships,dating,orwhatever.Maybehavehersendusthetopicsforeachoneaheadoftime,though?”Heraiseshisbrows,areminderofhisoriginalresponsetoSamantha’soutrageoustopicandtitlefortoday’sclass.“WecanputthemontheclubcalendarforreservationsbecauseI’mbettingthatafterwordgetsoutabouttoday,she’sgonnahaveafullroster.”
“Willdo,”Iagree.
Evandipshischin.“ThinkI’mgonnacutoutearlytoday.Myschedule’sclear,andReagan’sworkingfromhome.ThinkI’llseeifshehastimeforaquickinterruption.”Heclearshisthroatpointedly.
I’mdefinitelynottheonlyoneaffectedbySamantha’sclasstoday.“Quick?Didyoulearnnothing?”Iteasequietly.“Slow,explore,enjoy,”IechofromSamantha’slesson.
“Shit.I’llbeluckyifImakeittoReagananddon’tshootaloadfromthevibrationofmycaronthewaythere.”
Ilaugh,knowingthathiscar’svirtuallyvibration-free,withasmoothassilkride.
Samanthawrapsup,andtheguysallapplaudforher.Iapproachthepodiumoncemore,hopingthatI’mnotwalkingtooawkwardlybecauseofmyhard-on.“Thankyou,MissRedding.Ithinkthatwasrathereye-openingformanyofus.”Totheguys,Isay,“Ihopeyoulearnedalotandappreciatetheknowledgeyou’vebeengifted.Useittoimproveyouruhm…”Ihesitate,unsurehowtoprofessionallyandappropriatelydescribewhatSamantha’ssharedinformationcando.Buttakingalessonfromher,Igoforblunt.“Yoursexlifeandyourcurrentorfuturepartner’ssexlife.”
“Thanks,guys,”Samanthaadds.“Itwasgreatmeetingyou.I’llhangoutforafewminutesifIdidn’tgettoyourquestionoryouhavesomethingyou’dratheraskprivately.”
It’sakindoffer,butselfishly,Iwishshehadn’tmadeitbecausethatmeansit’llbeevenlongerbeforeIcanrelievethispressureinmydick.NotthatIcandothathere,andunlikeEvan,Ihavesessionsthisafternoonandcan’tsneakawayforsomeafternoondelight.
Theroomstartstoclearout,butSamanthastaysatthefront,thoughshedoessitdowninoneofthechairs.Istarttositbesideher,butshewavesmeoff.“I’vegotthis,andsomeofthemmightnotwanttoaskpersonalquestionsinfrontofyou.You’rescary.”
Shewinks,lettingmeknowthatshe’skiddinganddoesn’tmeanI’msometerrifyingmonster,butratherthattheseguysmightbenervoustoaskembarrassingthingsinfrontoftheirmentordependingontheintimacyoftheirquestion.
“Aslongasthey’reappropriate.YougivethesignalandI’llbeatyourside,”Iremindher.
“Okay,here’sthesignal,”sheinformsme,butthenshemakesaloudbirdnoisethatgetseveryone’sattention.“Ca-caw,ca-caw!”Atmyshockedface,shelaughs.
Ican’thelpbutlaughtoo,adding,“Maybejustgivemethe‘helpme’eyes?”
Shedemonstrateswithaglancethat’ssomewherebetweenpuppydogeyesanda‘whatthefuck’stare.“Likethat?”
“Yeah,that’lldo,”Itellher,grinningasIstepawaytochatwithsomeoftheguyswho’rehangingaround.ButIkeepmyeyeonSamanthaasvariousguyssitdowntotalkwithher.
Somearequick,likeAnthony,whoIprayisapologizingforhispreviousbehavior.Othersarewithherforawhile,likeStephen.I’mgladtoseehimopeninguptosomeone,andgivenhisusualnervesaroundwomen,I’mextrathrilledtoseehimtalkingcomfortablywithSamantha.
Butfinally,it’sjustthetwoofus.
“How’dIdo?”sheasks,buthersmilesaysloudandclearthatsheknowssherockedit.
“Ihadhighexpectations,andyousmashedthrougheveryoneoftheminthefirstfiveminutes.”It’shighpraiseandnotsomethingIhandoutlightly.
“Knewit!”shecheers,herfistsintheairwithinvisiblepompomsandhersmilegrowingevenwider.Butthenshepatsmytiewithherpalm.“Youwereworriedfornothing.”
Icatchherhand,holdingittomychestandcursingthelayersoffabricbetweenourskin,wishingIcouldfeelhertouch.“Iwasn’tworriedforyou.Iknewyou’dbeabletodealwithanything,butIwasworriedtheguyscouldn’thandleyou.I’mgladIwaswrongandtheydidmeproud,eventually.”
Hersmilemeltsintosomethingmoreintimate,andthespacebetweenuscharges.
“Youcareaboutthemsomuch.Theyknowthat,eventheoneswhofightyou.Theyhavegoodreasonsnottotrustyou’reforrealorthatyouactuallygiveashitandaren’tgoingtobailonthem.Butyoukeepshowingupforthem,andeventually,you’llearntheirtrustandchangetheirlives.”
Shegetsit.Somanypeopledon’t,butshedoes.
“Gooutwithme,”Isay.It’snotaquestion,butnotanordereither.Aprayer?Awish?
Anddoesn’tonlybreakmyself-prescribedrules,itbreaksapromiseImadetoEvan—thatI’dstayawayfromherifshe’sworkinghere.Idon’tlikedoingthat.ItgoesagainsteverythingI’mabout,butatthesametime,Ican’tstayawayfromher.
Samantha’sbrowsfurrowtogether.“Likeadate?Orbacktoyourplace?”
“Adate,thoughI’lladmitI’mrock-hardandwantingtoburymyselfinsideyouafterhearingyoutalklikethatforthelasthour.”Sheletsmeguideherhandtomycock,andthoughImeantokeeponeeyeontheopendoortocheckforanyonewalkingby,myeyesflutterclosedatherbaresttouch.
Shesqueezesme,givingmeonegoodstrokethroughmyslacks,andthankfully,nooneinterruptsus.
“Idon’tknowifadateiswhatyoureallywant,Chance.Inpublic,sittingandchatting,gettingtoknoweachotherbetterlikethisthingbetweenusisgoingsomewhere.”She’spurring,makingthatsoundlikethesexiestthingever.Huskierandsharper,shesays,“No,I’mprettysureyouwantaquick,dirtyfucktomakethisacheinyourballsgoaway.”
Herhanddipslower,cuppingmyballsandrollingthemgently.Ihavetostiflethegroanshe’spullingfromme.Gettingtooclosetothepointofnoreturn,Ijerkawayfromherandtakeadeep,jaggedbreathtosteadymyself.
“Can’tIwantboth?”
“You’relearning,”shetellsme,thelightinherbigbrowneyesbrightandexcited.“Howaboutthis?I’mbusytonight,buttomorrow,youcanpickmeupateight.Ononecondition.”Herlipsquirk,andIknowI’mgoingtohatehercondition.
“What’sthat?”
“Keepthatforme,”shesays,pointingbetweenusatmyragingcock.“Nojackingoff,nocoming,nothing…untiltomorrownightwithme.”
Idogroanatthat,lowandgruffinmythroat,beforeadmitting,“Tomorrow?Idon’tknowifIcan.”
Thattrulysoundssofaraway.
“Thennodate.Yourcall.Ifyoudon’tshowup,I’llknowyouweretooweaktowait.”Shelicksherlipslikeshewouldn’tbetoodisappointedtoknowIwassoarousedbyherthatIcouldn’thandleatwenty-four-hourdelay.
ButI’vewrittenandreadenoughcontractstoknowaloopholewhenIseeone.“Howwillyouknow?IcouldjackoffthesecondIwalkintomyoffice,stillshowupforourdate,andyou’dbenonethewiser.”
Shetiltsherhead,pressingherlipstogetherthoughtfully.“Butyou’dknow.Andthat’snotthekindofmanyouare.Plus,doyoureallythinkIwouldn’tbeabletotell?”
Logictellsmethatshewouldn’tknowifI’dcomeonce,twice,tentimes,ornotatall.There’dbenowayofbeingsureunlessIwaswearingcuminmyhairlikegelinsomesortofSomethingAboutMaryscene.Butthecleverlookinhereyesmakesmepause.Thoughitmakesnosense,Itrulybelieveshe’dknowonsightifIjackedoffbeforeseeingher.
“Deal,”Iagree,glancingatmywatchanddoingsomequickmath.“Twenty-ninehours,twelveminutes,andthirty-fiveseconds.Icandothat.”
Shelaughs.“Notthatyou’recounting.”
Ishakemyhead.“Ofcoursenot.Onanothernotethat’sperhapsabitdistracting.”Ijokinglylookatmywatch,bouncingmyheadwitheverypassingsecondbeforelookingbackatherwithadevil’sgrin.“Evanagreedthatweshouldhostyouforawholeseriesofclassesifyou’reupforit.Whatdoyouthink?”
Hereyesnearlybugoutoftheirsockets,andhersmileflashesbigandhappy.“Areyouserious?That’dbeawesome!”Aheartbeatlater,sheconfirms,“Atthesamepayrateforeach,right?”
IagreedtopaySamanthaanappropriateappearanceratefordoingtheoneclasstoday.We’vedonethatbeforeforguestsofvariousspecialtiesthatwe’vehosted.Butifshe’sgoingtobeon-staffforanentireseries,technically,itshouldbeaslightlylowerrateperclassandonelump-sumpaymentfortheseries.
Butshebringssomethingnooneelsedoes.
“Yes,samefeeforeachclass,”Isay,knowingEvanwon’texactlybehappy,buthe’llunderstandafterwhathewitnessedtoday.“We’llalsoneedtodiscussanhourlyrateifyoudecidetodothecounselingsessionsEvanmentioned,beyondthequickafter-classtalks.”
“Dollabills,dollabills,watchitfallingforme,lovethewayitfeels…”shesings,doingsomesortofarm-swinging,hand-flappingdance.
Ichuckleinsurpriseattheimpromptuperformance.“Whatwasthat?”
“Moneydance,LisafromBlackpink,”sheexplainswithoutexplaininganything.Ishrug,stillconfused,andshelaughs.“Justmakesurethechecksclearandwe’regood.”
“ThatIcando,”Ipromise.Myphonedingsinmypocketwithacalendarreminder.“Sorry,Ihaveacounselingsessionsoon.WithStephen,theguyyouweretalkingtolast.”
Shelooksthoughtful.“Heseemedsweet.Alittleunsure,inexperienced,andjumpieraroundwomenthanacatinadogpound,butsweet.Helphimwithhisconfidenceandhe’llbeaforceforgood.”
It’snotaprofessionalrecommendation,butit’sprettyspot-onforwhatI’velearnedaboutStephen.Andshegotthatinafive-minutechat,whereasI’vebarelygottenmorethanthatinweeksofprivatesessions.He’seagertoplease,andtalkativeinoursessions,butIdon’tfeellikehe’sreallyopenedupyet.Tomeortheclub.
“Didhesayanythingusefultoyou?”
Shewagsherfingeratme.“Uh-uh,privateconversations.Yourguysneedtoknowtheycantalktomeaboutthings,youaboutotherthings,andEvanaboutothers.Orallofusaboutthesamethingtopollforadviceiftheywant.Butconfidentialityisimportant.”
She’sright,thoughEvanandIdoshareinsightsabouttheguys,strictlyasawaytobesthelpthem.ButSamanthahasaprofessionalconfidentialityviewpoint,andIcanunderstandthat,givenherdegreework.
“Okay,fairpoint,”Iconcede.Regretfully,Iadd,“Ihavetogo.Wantmetowalkyoutothefront?”
“Nah,Iknowmyway.Andit’lldotheguysgoodtoseemehere.Ifanyonestartssomething,I’llhandleitorcallJimtobringhisbelt,”shejokes,actinglikeshe’swhippinganinvisibletargetwithherhand.
Thoughtheideaofherneedingbackupmakesmybloodrunhot,Iknowthat’snotlikelyandreluctantlylethergo
“Thanks,Mr.Harrington,”shesays,steppingtowardthedoor.It’sperfectlypoliteandhersmileisnothingmorethanfriendly,buthereyes?Thosedarkorbsarefullofmischief,andthatmixedwiththe‘Mr.Harrington’doessomethingtome.
Igroan,myhipsbuckinginvoluntarily.Itsuddenlyoccurstomethatourdealiscompletelyone-sided.
“Uhm,MissRedding?Ouragreement?Perhapsweneedtomakeafewamendments,”Isuggest,myeyesboringintohers.
Shegrinsdevilishly,knowingexactlywhatI’mtalkingabout.Andit’snottheclassarrangement.“Nope,adeal’sadeal.”
Andwiththat,shewagglesherfingersatmeinatriumphantwaveandstrutsoffdownthehall.
Thatminx.Sheknewwhatshewasdoing.ButI’mnotangry.I’mimpressed.
Iwon’tletherknowthattomorrownight,though.No,I’llpunishherappropriatelyforcraftingsuchaone-sidedarrangementwhensheknewallthebloodwasinmydickandnotmybrain.
ThoughIwonderifthatmeansshe’llbetouchingherselftonight?Thinkingofmeasherfingersbrushoverherclit?Orcryingoutmynameasshefucksherselfwithavibratingdildofromhercollection?
“Shiiit,”Ihisstotheemptyroom.Iglanceatmywatchagain.“Twenty-ninehours,oneminute,andthreeseconds.Youcandothis,Harrington.”
OnmywaytoStephen’scounselingsession,Ipullupmyemailapponmyphonetodoaquickscan.Therearetheusualspamones,afewfanlettersthatEvanwillhandle,butthelastone’ssubjectlinestopsmeshort.
ROAR!
Iclickontheemailandscanit,myeyesrollingharderwitheveryword.
Anarmyofsheepwon’tstopthelionfromtakingwhathewants.
They’vetakencreativelibertywiththewholewolf/sheepidiom,replacingitwithlioninrecognitionoftheGentlemen’sClubmascot,andI’mnotexactlysurewhatthey’retryingtosay.Arewethesheep?AmIthelion?Arethey?
Sighing,Iclosetheemailandtuckmyphoneaway.Iwasfeelinggoodaftertheclasstoday,butIguessit’salwaysonestepforward,twostepsback.There’sgoingtobehatersforthegoodEvanandIaretryingtodo,nomatterwhat.
Thatdoesn’tmeanwestop.Nope,wegoharder,dreambigger,andhelpmoreguys.
Themorewerattlethem,themoreprogresswemustbemaking.
Andtoday,wemadehugestridesthankstoSamantha.CHAPTER17SAMANTHA
RuleNumberTwoofhookups:Don’tgoonanactualdatewithyourhookup…who’snowyourboss.
Clearly,myrulesaregettingamendedontheflyasIgetreadyforadatewithChance.Andthisisdefinitelyanofficialdate.ThoughI’mworriedI’mgoingtoclimbintohislapandridehisdicklikeapogostickwithintwominutesofhispickingmeup.
Imight’vetoldhimtoholdoff,butinsolidarity,Iwasa‘goodgirl’too,andI’monedgeinamajorway.
Butwe’regoingonthisdatefirst.
If—andthat’sabigif—Icandecidewhattowear,whichIneedtodoquicklybecauseit’sseventhirty,andI’mstillstandingnakedinfrontofmycloset.
WhatdoessomeonelikemewearonafirstofficialdatewithsomeonelikeChanceHarrington?
IholdupapairofalmostsheerbikinipantiesthatIboughtmyselfasajokelastChristmas.Screenprintedonthethinnylonisanarrow,withthecaptionLICKHERErightaboveit.They’repartofaset.Theotheronehasasimilararrow,justonthebacksidewiththeinstructionsSTICKHERE
Iconsiderbothpairs,laughingtomyselfabouttheirclichénaughtiness,andthengowiththelickoption.Islipthemonwithasmile,knowingthatChancewillbeshockedwiththeirsilliness.
Ormaybejustbeinspiredtofollowsuggestions.
ButwhatelsedoIwear?
IgothroughmyentireclosettwicebeforedecidingonapinkstraplessdressthatclingstomybodybysheerforceofwillandsubtleamountsofelasticinalltherightplacestomakesureIdon’tfallout.
I’mtemptedtopairitwithsandals,andifthiswereadaytimedateIwould,butthisisnighttime,soIfindmysexiestsilverheelsthatmakemylegslookdynamite,evenifI’dbethefirstvictimofthezombieapocalypseifIhadtoruninthem.
Dressandheelson,Ilookinthemirroratthefulleffect.Myhairispulleduploosely,afewface-framinglayersintentionallyescaping,andmymakeupislightpink,givingmeasortofsun-kissedlook.Theoutfitisflatteringandsexywithoutbeinginyourface.Ifeel…pretty.AndnotaminutetoosoonbecauseChanceknocksonmydoor.
Surprisingly,I’malmostshyopeningupforhim.Thisisrealonanentirelydifferentlevel.“Hi.”Whenhedoesn’tanswer,standingoutsidemydoorinablacksuitandlookingliketheworld’ssexiestsecretagent,Istammeralittle,fidgetingwithmyhairandsmoothingmydress.“Whatisit?”
“Youlook…gorgeous,”hesays,visiblyswallowing.“Inalltheworldtonight,theremustbemillionsofmentakingmillionsofwomenoutondates.YetI’mcertainnoneareasluckyasIamrightnow.”
“Poetic,”Icommentdryly.“Didyoupracticethatorreaditinabook?”I’mjudginghimharshly,butguysdon’treallytalklikethat,notseriously.It’seitheralineorsarcasm.
“Actually,”Chancesays,notoffendedbymyresponse,“Ihavereadpoetry.Ithinkagentlemanshouldbeacquaintedwithatleastalittlebitofpoetry.Andnotjustdirtylimericks,either.Youtrulyarebreathtaking,Samantha.”
“Oh.Uhm,thankyou,”Isay,moreacceptingthistimetothecomplimentwithoutallthefancy-schmancinessaroundit.“Youwannacomein?”
“Foraminute,butwehavereservations.”Hestepsintomyapartment,butonlybyafewfeet.
“Wedo?”Iask.
Chancenods,lookingaroundashesaysbluntly,“WasafraidifIdidn’t,Iwouldpushinassoonyouopenthedoorandbendyouoverthenearestsurface.Areservationseemedlikeawaytostopmyself.”
“Anappointmentisallittakestostopyoufromfuckingme?”Ichallengewithaslygrin.NowthatIknowwhathe’sdoing,I’mflirtinghard,almostasifIwanttopushhimtoofartoseewhathe’lldo.Sexisafamiliarandcomfortablezone.Adateisnot.
“Samantha,”hewarns,hisvoicedeepandrough.“Showmeyourapartmentandthenlet’sgoout.Iwanttotakeyouonadate.”
ThatstopsthebrattyresponseIhadatthereadyonthetipofmytongue.“Youdo?”Whenhesimplystaresatme,Igiveinandgesturearoundme,stillnotexactlysurehowitgottothispoint.ChanceandIareonanactualdate.It’smadness.“Theten-secondtour.Notinyourviewismybedroom,whichisslightlybiggerthanyouraveragebroomcloset,andmybathroom,whichisslightlybiggerthananairplane’s.That’sprettymuchit.”
It’sridiculousincomparisontohisplace,andwebothknowit,buthesmiles.“It’slovely.Likeitsresident.”Hecocksanarm.“Shallwe?”
Snaggingmypurse,Itakehiselbowandlockmydoorasweleave.“So,whatpoetryhaveyouread?”
“Themasters,”Chancesaysbreezily.“Homer,Dante,Shakespeare,Byron,Yeats,Tennyson,Jagger,Dre…”
“Wait…Jagger…Dre?”Iask,andChancegrinsatmycatch.“Rockandrapmusic?”
“Songsarepoetryputtomusic,”Chancepointsout.“Thepoetryofourtimes,awayforthosewhoarelookingforavoicetofindtheirs.”
“That’sactuallyveryastute,”Isayinagreement.I’mnotsurprisedbyChance’sappreciationofmusic,butIguessIexpectedhistastestorunsomewhereotherthanold-schoolrap.MaybesomeonewithaJohnMayerBodyisaWonderlandtypeofvibewouldseemmorehisspeed.
Afterashortdrive,ChancepullsupinfrontofMacrosine.“Healthfood?IguessIshouldn’tbesurprisedgivenyourreputationasahealthnut.Thinebodyisatemple,”Itease.
“Macrobiotic,organic,andtheheadchefusedtohaveaMichelinstar.You’llloveit,”Chanceassuresme,gettingoutandhandingthekeystothevalet.Offeringmehisarmagain,heleadsmeintotherestaurant,wherewe’requicklyseatedataprimetable,thehostalmostdeferentialashehandsusourmenusandnearlydisappearsintothinair.
Ican’thelpit,Ilaugh.“Wow.”
“What?”Chanceasks,thensmirkswhenIwavemyhandsaroundlike‘allthis’.“Yeah…Iknow.”
Helooksaround,likehe’sneversomuchasbotheredtodoso,butI’mscanningthewholerestaurantgobsmacked.It’sallwhiteandlightwood,withplantshereandthere.ThechairI’msittinginislinen-covered,thetableissetwithwood-handledsilverware,andthewaterandwinegobletslookhandblownwithtinylittlebubblesintheglass.It’sunderstatedbutluxurious,anddefinitelyexpensiveasfuck.IbetIcan’tevenaffordanappetizerhere.
Iglanceatthemenu,andthefirstitemIseeisadandelionsaladthatcostsmorethanIspendinaweekatthegrocerystore.
Isn’tadandelionaweed?They’recharginggrocerypricesforannoyinggrasspeopleyankfromtheiryards?
Awomanappearsatthetableside,silentlyanddiscreetlyfillingthewatergoblets,andbeforeIcansaythanks,Iswearshebowsherchinandskedaddlesaway.
Toto,I’mnotinKansasanymore!
TurningbacktoChance,Ifindthathe’scompletelyunbothered,havingnotevennoticedher,muchlessacknowledgedher.“Haveyouliterallyspentyourentirelifehavingpeopletripoverthemselvestomakesureyoureverywhimiscateredto?”Iaskdisapprovingly.“Imean,Ithinkifyou’dsaidyouwantedyourasskissed,someone’dpulloutfreshChapstickforit.”
Admittedly,Ihaveabitofachiponmyshoulderonthistopic.I’veworkedenoughcoffeeshopsthroughtheyearstohaveexperiencedmyfairshareofpeoplewhowanttobetreatedlikeroyaltydespiteaHalloweencostumebeingtheclosesttoaqueenthey’veeverbeen.Mistreatingothersordemandingtop-tierservicebecauseyoufeelentitledtodoso,forabsolutelynoreason,isasignofashithumanasfarasI’mconcerned.I’mpastthedaysofsmilingthroughgrittedteethsoIdon’tgetfiredandmostcertainlywon’tbesittinghereonadatewithsomeonesoarrogantastothinkI’llbeimpressedbythis.
“Thankfully,Ihaven’thadpeopledoteonmethatway,oratleastIdon’tnow,bymychoice,”Chancesaysevenly,notrisingtomychallengingtone.“ButIwantedtotakeyousomeplaceniceanddelicious.Thisisoneofmyfavorites.Andyeah,unfortunately,theyprobablywoulddothat.It’sridiculous.”Chancehuffs,apparentlyannoyedwiththestatusquoIassumedhe’dappreciateandexpect.
“Oh.Youdon’tlikethat?”Iask,confused.
Hechucklesandlooksaroundbutleansintowhisperbetweenthetwoofus.“Hellno.It’sawkwardanduncomfortable.I’veevenusedfakenamesbeforesotheywouldn’tpullthe‘Harrington’actoutforme.Butfromexperience,Iknowgettingcaughtusingafakenameisevenworse.Theygodoublepandering,whileatthesametimetryingtopokearoundtoseewhatitisImustbehiding.SoI’mjust…me.I’dliketosayI’ma‘regularperson’,butthat’snotreallytrue.NotwiththeupbringingIhad,butIcan’tchangeit.Somepeoplewouldsayit’sdisrespectfultotryandactotherwise.”Heliftsashoulder,shruggingdismissivelyasheleansbackinhischairandreturnshisattentiontothemenu.
“Wouldyouchangeit?”I’mnotreadytoletthistopicgo.Itfeelsimportant,likeastartorno-starttosomethingbeyondsexforus.Actually,ifChancehasmoreofaprincementalitythanIthought,Idon’tknowthatIcouldsleepwithhimagaineither,nomatterhowgoodthesexis.It’dchangethewayIfeelaboutourdynamicifhethinkspeopleexisttoservehim.
Hethinksforaminutebutsmiles.“Nope.”
I’mpointohtwosecondsawayfromtossingmynapkintothetableandsashayingmyhappyselfrightoutofthisfancyjoint,makingthelastsightheseesofmebemyassleavinghim.
ButChancegoeson.“Insteadofchangingme,Ichangeothers,givingthemtheopportunitiesthatbeingprivilegedsincebirth,throughnoeffortofmyown,hasbrought.Inafoundationalway,that’swhytheGentlemen’sClubisimportant.It’saSisypheantasksometimes,butgettingtheguystoapointwheretheycanwalkintoanyroom—whetherfilledwithCEOsandpresidentsorjanitorsandbeggars—andfeelconfidentandbesuccessful,that’sthegoal.”
TheirritationI’dbeenworkingupdeflateswitheveryword,andIrealizethatI’mtheonebeingbitchy.Chancehasdonenothingbutbepoliteandletpeopledotheirjobs.I’mtheonejudginghim,assuminghethinksthey’resomehowbeneathhim.Buthedoesn’tfeelthatwayatall.
Itakeasipofwater,consideringthat,anddoabitofself-analyzingthat’snotparticularlycomfortableorcomplimentary.
Maybeit’sthatIfeeloutofplaceinhisworld?I’veneverbeentoarestaurantlikethis,oronadatewithamanlikeChance,somaybeI’mtheonefeelingalittleinadequateandchafingatthat?
“I’msorry.Imisjudgedyou,”Iconfess,knowingthathereadmyirritationanduglyassumptionsinmyquestionsandtone.Hesmileswarmly,seemingcompletelyunoffendedbymybitchiness.Hopingit’llbreaktheawkwardness,Ipointout,“NotexactlyeverybodygoesaroundthrowingGreekmythologyintoregularconversation,though,dothey?”
Heblushes,andhiseyesfalltothetable,makinghimlookmoreadorablyboyishthanheshould.
“Growingup,Ialwayshadmynoseinbooks,”Chancesays.“BeingsevenyearsyoungerthanCamandthreeyoungerthanCarter,Ihadthissortofmiddlegroundthinggoingforalongtime.Andtheywerebig,gregariouspersonalities.Iwasquieter,evenalittlenerdy—thoughifyoutellanyoneIadmittedthat,I’lldenyitvehemently.”
“You?Nerdy?”Iechodoubtfully.
Hisgrinisself-deprecating,andIstruggletoseeanyshredofnerdinessintheconfident,well-spoken,sexymanacrossfromme.
“Maybeintellectualisthebetterdescription?Alwaysreading,planning,dreaming.ButCarterusuallywentforcallingmeanerdwhenheswipedmybooksandhidthemfromme.”
IthinkaboutwhatIknowaboutmybestie’shusband.“Yeah,Icantotallyseehimdoingthat.He’sagoodguy…now.Lunadidsomemajorrehabonhim,butIcanseehimbeinganasswhenyouwereyounger.Ormaybelike,lastyear?”Ismilewiththejabathisbrother,whomIdolikenowthathe’swithmyfriend.
“Lastweek,morelikeit,”Chancecorrects,butit’sgood-naturedshit-talkingabouthisbrother,notactuallyinsulting.
Awaitresscomesbytotakeourorder,andthoughChancemakesrecommendationsonwhathe’striedandenjoyedpreviously,he’shappyformetoorderwhateverI’dlike.
Istartwithatofusquarethat’sbeenseasonedwithwhatlookslikeeverything-but-the-bagelseasoningandwispsofgrass.“Enjoy,”thewaitresssays,professionallyremainingcompletelystraight-facedevenasItilttheplatetoseeifthere’smorefoodhidingunderthetinychunkoftofu.
“Iftheentréeisthissmall,I’mgonnaneedtorunthroughMcDonald’sonthewayhome,‘kay?”ItellChance.
Helaughsandasks,“You’vegotMcDonald’smoney?”
Shocked—bothatthejokeandthatheknowsthereference—Ibalk.“Youdidnotjustaskmethat!”ButI’mlaughingtoo.
“Oneoftheclubguysalwayssaysthat,”Chancesays,notsurprisingly.“Toldmethatheknewhewasgoingtobeokaythefirsttimeheorderedacombomealwithoutcheckinghisbankaccountbalance.”
“Beenthere,”IagreeasItakeasmallnibbleofthetofuappetizer,mostlybecausethat’sallitis—anibble.Butit’stasty.“Mmm,thesauceisgood,alittledarktasting?”
Foodcritic,I’mnot.Butit’sthebestIcandobecausetheblackishdrizzledoestaste…dark.
“It’sthetruffles,”Chanceagrees,takingabiteofhisappetizer,whichissomethingwithbeetjuicejellycubesoverheirloomtomatoesandwatermelon,withwhitechunksoffetacheese.“Whataboutyou,doyouhavefamily?”
It’sareminderthatweknowalotabouteachother—whatwelike,whatmakesuscome,andwhatourusualbedroomactivitiesarelike.ButChancedoesn’treallyknowmuchaboutme.OratleastnotasmuchasIdoabouthim,eventhoughthat’slargelythroughLuna’slens.
Iwouldliketochangethat,seeifthere’ssomethingmorethansexualgasolineandfirebetweenus.
Thoughtfully,Ireveal,“Momandsister,Olivia.She’ssixteenandgivingmymomhell,butshe’sagoodkid.Mostly…sometimes.”Ichuckleatthetoo-accuratecorrection.“Mymom’samazing,though,especiallynowthatshe’sgettinghergrooveback,Stella-style.”
“Goodforher.Whataboutyourdad?”Chanceaskscarefully.
“He’sinthearea,butheleftusasIwasstartingcollege.Marriedhismistresswho’sbasicallymyage.Ihaven’tseenhiminalongtime.”Iknowmyvoicehasgoneflat.IcanhearitmyselfasIbasicallyquotefactsaboutmyfatherasthoughIhavenopersonaltiestohim.Imightaswellbegivingageneraldescription—sixfoot-one,hundredandeightypounds,likessteak,hateshisfamily.
“I’msorry,”Chancesays,takingmyhand.Histhumbslipsbackandforthoverthedelicateskinbetweenmythumbandindexfingersoothingly.“Hedoesn’tknowwhathe’smissing.”
Itrytobrushitoff.“Iturnedmygive-a-shitteroffwherehe’sconcerned.ButitdidhelpmefigureoutthatIwantedtogointopsychology.MomsentmeandOliviatotherapyduringthedivorce,andIcouldfeelhowithelpedmereframesomeofmythinking,sothatbecamethejumpingpoint.Then,thewholeideaofhowsomethinglikesex—sosimple,yetsocomplicated,somethingeveryonedoes,andalmostnobodydoeswell—drewmein.Intimacyandrelationshipcounselingbecamemyfocus.”
Chancemullsthatover,thenasks,“Areyouhopingtorepairotherpeople’srelationshipssinceyouweren’tataplacetohelpyourparents?”
Shell-shocked,mymouthdropsopenandIsputter,“No.ThatisnotwhatI’mdoing.Atall.”
Idon’tliketheallegation,butluckilyforChance,thewaitressreturnswithoursaladcourse.“Thankyou,”Itellherquicklybeforeshecanjetaway.
Theslightbreakgivesmeanopportunitytocalmdown.It’snotthefirsttimeI’veheardthat.Hell,evenSarahastoldmethat.ButIdon’tlikethatChancecouldseeitsoeasily.AmIthattransparent?
“Ijustwanttohelppeoplebehappy.Inthemselves,intheirrelationships,andintheirsexlives,”Iamend.“Andyeah,Isawmyparentsinhappiertimes,butIalsosawthemunhappy.Andthoughmydad’sinlovewithhiswifenow,itstartedwithanaffair.Withsex.”
It’sasmuchasIcangive.MaybeasmuchasIcanadmittomyself.
Chancesensesthatandshiftsourconversation.Wefinishthecoursewithlightertopics,gettingtoknoweachotherwithanydeep,dark,pasttraumaleftintherearviewmirror.It’seasyfirstdatestuff,likes(corndogs),dislikes(rippedjeans),loves(hotbaths)andgutturalhatreds(PopSmoke).
Andit’sfun.ChanceisfunnierthanIexpecthimtobe,andnotatallcaughtupinhisownamazingness.Ifanything,Ithinkthere’smoreofthenerdyboyintherethanhe’dcaretoadmit
“Thefishislocallycaught,”hetellsmeasthewaitressbringsourmainentrees.“Theypridethemselvesonusingfresh,linecaught,sustainablefish.”
“Iwouldn’tknowthedifferenceifitwascaughtthismorning,frozenayearago,orCaptainGorton’sfishsticksonafancyplate,”Iquip,lookingatthelightlybatteredfiletinfrontofme.It’saccompaniedbysomegreenseaweedlookingstuffandlittleboba-lookingballthingsthatI’mprettysurearecaviar.
Itakeabite,expectingheaven.Butit’s…salty.Likelickingamargaritaglassrimsalty.AndIdon’tlikeit.ButIdon’twanttoberude,toChanceortheMichelinchef,soIswallowitnearlywholeandsmile.“Mmm,”IhumasIgrabformywineglass.
Itakeatoo-bigglugandthenredirectChance,pointingathisplate,“How’syours?”HeorderedmushroomWellington,somesortofvegetariantakeonthebeefversionthathasmushrooms,squash,kale,andfarro.Thatdinneroptionlostmeatmushroom—gross,little,dirtyforestfungi—andIdon’tknowwhatfaroisanddidn’twanttoaskandembarrassmyself.
“It’sdelicious!Wouldyoulikeabite?”heoffers.
Ipickatmyfishandsmile.“No,thankyou.Savingroomfordessert.”
Imovemoreofthefoodaroundonmyplatethaneatit,butIdomanagetogetafewbitesofthefishdown,withouttheseaweedandcaviar,followedbybigdrinksofwinetodrownthetaste.
It’stoobadIdon’thavetartarsauceorsomeketchupforthefishfilet.Itmightbeslightlymorepalatablethen.Butsomethingtellsmeaskingforthatwouldbeakintostandingonthetableandrippingmyclothesoff—completelyinappropriate.
Thankfully,dessertisdelicious,ablackbeanbrownietoppedwithcrèmebr?lée,andIdigintothatwithabandonasChanceexplainsthatthedairyingredientsareethicallysourced,thesugarisfairtrade,andtheblackbeansareorganic.
AllIcareisthatthey’retastilyfillinguptheholeinmybellybecausethetinytofusquare,weedsalad,andthreebitesoffishIforceddownaren’tgonnacutitfortheeveningIhaveplanned.
Becausethere’sanotherholeIneedfilledtoo.CHAPTER18CHANCE
AswepullawayfromMacrosine,Irackmybrainbecausethere’satleastonemorestopweneedtomake.IjustneedtofigureouttheclosestlocationwithoutalertingSamantha.
“Wherearewegoing?”sheasks,herheadlolledovertothesidesoshecanstareoutthewindowatthenight.
Ismiletomyselfinanticipation,knowingmyanswerisgoingtowindherup.“It’sasurprise.”
Herheadrollstowardme.“What?”
Iriskaglanceherwayandfindhereyesboringintome.Ismirk,enjoyingherfiresomuchthatIwantittogrowevenhotter.“Bepatient.It’llbeworthit,”Ipromisesmoothly.
“Letmeguess,itinvolvesyourdick,”shesnapssassily.
Iturnright,intotheparkinglot,andwatchcloselyastheyellowlightofthegoldenarchesgleamsoverherface.
“Areyouserious?”sheshouts,hermoodchanginginablink.“Allright!BigMacsonme,bay-bee!”
Shesoundslikeanexuberantchildandhasnearlythrownherselftothefloorboardtograbherpurse.Digginginit,she’sdancinginherseatwhileshelooksformoney.
“I’vegotit.”
“Nuh-uh,thiswasmyidea,somytreat.How’dyouknowI’devenwantthiscrapaftersuchafancydinner?”
Pullingintothedrive-thruline,Ilaugh.“Theonlythingyoulikedoutofthatwholemealwasthecrèmebr?lée.Everythingelse,especiallytheentree,wasn’ttoyourliking,thoughyoufoughtvaliantlytomakeitappearasthoughitwasdelicious.”
HermouthdropsopenintoanO.“How…what…itwasgood,”shelies.
Iliftabrow,smirkingatherknowinglybecausenotonlyissheanawfulliar,butshealsobarelypickedatherdinner.Ididn’tcallheronitbecausesheseemedsointentonmakingitseemlikeshewasenjoyingit,soIscarfedminedownasquicklyaspossible,knowingthatmyplantostopandgetherMcDonald’swasalreadyinplayaftershementionedit.
Shesighsandacquiesces.“Fine,thefishwasdisgusting,theseaweedandcaviarwerelikebitingintotheactualocean,thesaladtastedlikethedirtinmygrandpa’sbackyardwherethedogpissed,andthetofuwasokay,butI’dneedlikeawholeblockofittoconsideritdinner,andthat’sonlywiththetrufflesyrup.Youhappynow?”
Mylaughisloudandcomesfrommybelly.Idon’tthinkI’veeverheardamorehonestdinnerreview.“Wecould’veorderedsomethingelseorleft.Whydidn’tyousaysomething?”
“Becauseyou’reChanceHarringtonandI’mSamanthaRedding,”shesays.
“Thatmakesnosense.”
“CanItakeyourorder?”adisembodiedvoicesays.
Samanthaleansoverme,herhandonmythighforsupport,toyellintothespeaker.“Yeah,canIgettwoBigMacmeals,withfriesandCokes,please?Andisyouricecreammachineworking?”
“Letmecheck.”
Confused,Iwhisperinherear,“Whywouldn’titbeworking?”
Shesideeyesmeandlaughs.“Thatsaysmoreaboutyourgrowinguparichboythananythingelsehas.Theirmachinesneverwork.Ifitdoes,it’sbasicallylikewinningthelottery.”
Amomentlater,thevoicecomesbackonthespeaker.“Ma’am,themachine’soffforthenight.”
Samanthasilentlysays‘Itoldyouso’withhereyes,grinningabitthatshewasright.“Noworries.Justthemeals,then.”
Shesitsbackinherseat,andnotmissingabeat,continuesourconversationasifweweren’tinterrupted.“Itmakesperfectsense.Thesamewayyouwantedtotakemeouttoanicedinner,Iwantedtobethetypeofwomanyoucouldtaketothatkindofplace.ButI’mnot.Iwantspaghetti,pancakes,steak,potatoes,andyeah,anoccasionalBigMac.”
“Maybewecanthrowinasaladeveryonceinawhile,”Isuggest.“Youneedveggiestoo.”
“Richboyrabbitfood?NeedIremindyouthatyouactuallyatebeetjellytonight?Andlikedit!”sheteases,stickinghertongueoutindisgust.Butthenshesmilesbrightlyanddecrees,“Icoulddothat.IfIpicktheveggies.”
“Maybeournextdatecanbetothegrocerystore?Andthenwecancookdinnertogether.”
Shestraightens,lookingatmewithanoddexpression,andIrealizethatIjustassumedwe’dbegoingoutagain.Butweare,aren’twe?Icertainlywantthat.Doesn’tshe?
Hereyessofterandhersmilegentle,shesaysinaquietvoice,“I’dlikethat.”
Wegetourfoodfromthedrive-thruwindow,andthoughIconsiderpayingmyself,knowingthedifferencesinourbankaccounts,IletSamanthapaybecauseitseemsimportanttoher.“Whereto?”Iask.
“Whatelsedidyouhaveplanned?”She’sdigginginthebag,andherhandreappearswithtwofriesthatshemunchesonhappily.Thenextgrab,sheholdstwofriesoutforme.Itfeelsintimateforhertofeedme,andIslowlyleanovertoeatthemfromherfingers.
Icough.“Theseaweedandcaviarwastoosaltyforyou,butthosearen’t?”
Shelaughsatme,alreadyeatinganotherbundleoffries.Ithinksheonlyeatsthemtwo-by-two.“Don’tlikethem?Toobad,sosadforyou,andmoreforme,”shetauntswithamouthful.“Let’sgototheclub.Ihaveanidea.”
Herideasoundslikeit’sgoingtobreakawholelotmorerules,butIpressthegaspedalanywayasIrushtotheclub,excitedtoseewhatshe’sgotstirringinthatdirty,sexy,beautifulmindofhers.
***
Makingourwayintotheclub,IturnthealarmoffandletSamanthaleadmethroughthebuilding.Shegrabstwobigtowelsfromthelockerroomshelvesandthenwalksoutthebackdoortotheyardwheretheguysplaybasketball.It’snotregulationsize—realestateistooexpensiveforthat—butit’scloseenoughthattheguysenjoygamesouthere,andwedidaprettyextensiverenovationtomakeittop-notch.
We’realone,themagicofthestarsanddarkskyaboveusandthequietofthenightsurroundingus.
“Areweplayingapick-upgame?”Iask,gesturingtowardanet.
Samanthalaughsandkicksoutaleg.“Notintheseheels.”
Shekeepswalkingtothefarsideoftheyardwherethere’sanareaoffoam-cushionedartificialturf.TheguysuseitforsoccerdrillsandCrossFitstyleworkouts,butinthemoonlight,itlookslikeabeautifulpatchofgrass.Samanthaflicksherhandstospreadoutbothtowels,sidebyside,andthenholdsthemoutwide.“Ta-daaa!It’sapicnic!”sheexplains.
Sheeasestothetowelandtakesoffherheels.Legsoutstretchedandleaningbackonherhands,shelooksuptowhereI’mstillstandinglikeanidiot,loomingoverher.“Youjoiningmeornot?Justknow,I’mgettingthatburgereitherway.”ShereachesonearmupwithagrabbyhandtowardthebagI’mholding.
“Oh.Hereyougo,”Itellher,handingitover.Ikickmyshoesoffandlowermyselftothetowelsbesideher,notstayingonmyownbutgettingrightinthemiddletobeclosertoher.
Shehandsmeoneoftheburgers,alreadyunwrappedtoshowthetophalf,andsmilesassheclinkshersandminetogetherlikechampagneglasses.“Tonewthings.Iateliteraloceananddirtforyou.Now,it’syourturntoeatprocessedsemi-foodforme.IexpectyoutobejustaspoliteasIwasaboutit,too,”shewarnswithatwinkleinhereye.
Ifeignpreemptivedisgust,thinkingitcan’tbethatbadbutactinglikeshe’sfeedingmethemosthorrifyingthingontheplanet,evengoingsofarasholdingmynose.Itakeabiteandchew.
Ittakeslike…plastic?Orfood-flavoredplastic?
Iwrinklemynoseandfrownhard.“That’sdownrightgross,”Iproclaim.Meanwhile,Samanthaischowingdownlikeit’sthemostdeliciousthingshe’severhad.
“Thetiny,babyonions?Theydehydratethemtoshipandthenrehydratetheminbigbucketsofwater.Locallyrehydrated,”shetellsmewithasmart-assgrin,andIrealizeshe’steasingmeaboutmywholespeechaboutMacrosine’ssupplychain.
“Notsurethat’sthesamepedigreetobragabout,”Ijokebackdeadpan,andshelaughs.
Sheeats,andIrewrapmyburger,knowingI’mnotgoingtoforcedownanotherbite.ImustbestaringoutoverthebasketballcourtbecauseSamanthaasksme,“Doyouplay?”
“No,notreally,”Ianswer,shakingmyhead.“Wehadahoopathome,butCameronandCarterplayedmorethanIdid.Itried,mostlyasawaytoconnectwiththem,butitdidn’tworkoutthatwell.”Ishrugatthememoriesfloodingback.
CameronandCarterplayingkeep-awaywiththeball.
Carterbouncingtheballoffmyhead
Playingtwo-on-twowiththemasateamandmeandColeastheopponents,asifthatwasremotelyfairwithouragedifferences.
“Ihaveadecentthree-pointer,that’saboutit,”Iconfess.“MostlybecauseifIcouldgettheballawayfromthemoutside,Iwaslesslikelytogetfouled.”
“Soundslikeyouandyourbrotherswerealwayscompeting?”sheasks,shootingathree-pointerofherownasshetossesthewadded-upburgerwrapperintothebag.
Ihuffsardonically.“Someofus.Othersbasicallynevergaveashit,likeColeandKyle.IwishIknewhowtheydidit.”
“Lunatoldme…”Shepausesasifunsuresheshouldsharewhatherfrienddivulged.Hesitantly,shecontinues,“Thatyouwerekindatheoddmanoutforawhilewhenyouturnedyourbackonthefamilybusiness.MaybeColeandKylelearnedfromyourexampletonotgiveashit?”
It’sasweet,kindangle,thoughit’sabitofatwistedpointofview.
“Idon’tknow.Theyalwaysdidtheirownthing,soIwon’ttakeanycreditorblamefortheiractions.Kylewashellonwheelsfromwhenhewasatoddler.MyearliestmemoriesofhimareofMomrunningafterhim,shouting‘no’onthedaily.”Ismile,abletopictureitperfectlyinmymind.“AndCole?Hewasfamily,butnotatthesametime.IthinkbythetimeMomhadColeandKayla,Dadwasalreadycheckedoutofhands-onparenting.Kaylagotattentionbecauseshewasagirl,butCole?Ithinkhefeltlikeanafterthought.”
“Doyoutalktothem?”
“Kayla,forsure.She’sthemostreasonableofallofus,knowshowtousethefamilynamewhenitsuitsher—toopendoorsorshutpeopledown—butalsohasasolidheadonhershouldersinherownright.Shestaysonthefringes,workingwithDad,butatahealthydistancewherehecan’tcontrolher.Hell,Idon’tthinkheevenknowswhatshedoes.Butpeopleassumeshe’stherefornepotisticreasons,underestimatingher…untilsheramrodsrightoverthemwithasmile.Professionallyspeaking,ofcourse.”
Samanthagrins.“IthinkI’dlikeyoursister.”
Inod.“Ithinkshe’dlikeyoutoo.”
“Havetheyseenwhatyou’vecreatedhere?”Samanthaasksmeearnestly.“Dotheyunderstandhowamazingyouare?”
Idon’topenupwithpeoplethisway,certainlynotsomeonewhoIknowisskilledatdiggingdeeperthanmost.ButwithSamantha,itfeelsnaturalandsafe.
“Notreally.CarterstoppedbywhenIboughttheplacebecauseZackfoundit,”Itellher,andI’msurprisedatthehurtinmyvoice.Ididn’tevenknowthatexisted.“Therestofthemdon’tcare…well,Kaylawould,but…”Itrailoff,andtogether,wesay…
“Rulesix.”
Laughing,Samanthasings,“Breakingthelaw,breakingthelaw…unh,unh.”Atmyconfusedlook,shesmilessadly.“It’sanoldrocksongmydadusedtolike.Iheardhimsayitsomanytimes—forthingsthatweren’tevenbad,justlikeicecreamMomdidn’tknowabout—thatitcomesoutautomatically.”
“Yousaidyouhaven’tseenhiminalongtime,butdoyoutalktohim?”Iask,anearquoteofherearlierquestionaboutmysiblings.
She’squietforalongtime,lyingbacktostareattheskyaboveus.SolongthatIwonderifshe’sforgottenthequestion,butIwaitpatientlyforhertodecidewhetherI’mworthyofhertruth.
I’vealreadyfiguredoutthatshedoesn’thaveanyeasyroadstoherheart.Herbody,shegivesthoughtfully,whenitsuitsher.Buthersoul,absolutelynot.Sheholdsthatinadeath-grip,buriedbeneathhersassandsmiles,andshewatchesanalyticallyassherevealstinytidbits.Anyflinchandshe’llbolt,writingmeoffwithaneasyflourish.
“Ican’t,”shesaysquietlyafterawhile.“Orwon’t?Ihaven’tforgivenhim,Iknowthatmuch.Momsayshedidn’tleavemeandOlivia,helefther,butthat’snottrue.She’stryingtomakeusfeelbetterandtakethehurtonheralreadyoverlyburdenedshoulders.I’mangrythathecheated,thathebrokethetrustweallhadinhimandourfamily.”Shemakesahummingnoisethatsaysshe’sthinking.“Ugh,butatthesametime,hedeservestobehappytoo.Hefellinlove,accidentallyhesays,butwhoknows?”
Sheblinksseveraltimes,herlashesfluttering,andIdon’tthinkshe’slookingatthestarsanymorebutintoherheart.“I’mnotready.Don’tknowifIeverwillbe.Andthat’sokaybecauseI’mallowedtotakehoweverlongIneedtosortthroughmyfeelings.”
She’sgivingherselftherapy.Icanhearitinthechangeofhervoice,thoughshe’sspeakingsosoftlythatI’mnotevensureI’mmeanttohear.
“Soundsreasonable,”IagreeasIliedownbesidehertostareupatthestarstoo.
Shegavealotofherselfjustnow,andIdon’twanttopushtoohard,evenifI’dliketohearitall.
We’rebothquietforseveralminutes,watchingthestarsshineaboveus.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIstoppedthisway—mymind,mybody,myplanning.Juststoppedandexisted.
Actually,that’snottrue.
ItwaswithSamantha.It’sonlybeenwithherthatI’vebeenabletoexistinthepresentandnotliveforthefuture.
Ireachoverandtakeherhand,interlacingourfingers.Withmyotherhand,Ipointtoagroupingofstars.“BigDipper.”
“Easyone.Orion’sBelt,”Samanthacounters.
“LittleDipper?”Iindicateanotherbunch.
“Aww,Iwouldn’tcallyourwiddle-dipperlittle.”
Thebabytalkaboutmydickissomehowcute,notinsulting.Especiallywhenshesitsupabruptlyandstraddlesme,herkneesoneithersideofmyhipsandherpalmsflatonmystomach.Withherdressridingupherthighs,Igripthesoftskinthere,movingupanddownfromherkneestohigher,almosttohercore.Sherollsherhips,andI’minstantlyrock-hard,everyhourspentarousedsincehertalkhittingmefull-forceatonce.
Igroan,tellingher,“Iwaitedlikeyoutoldmeto.”
Shefallsforwardoverme,puttingourfacesinchesapart.“Iknow.”
Iseehersmile,andthenherlipsareonmine.Iletherlead,hertonguedippingpastmylipstotasteme,ourtonguesswirlingandentwiningwitheachother.Withherhipsshiftingovermycock,handsgrippingmychest,andtonguethrustdeepintomymouth,Ireachtheedgefast.
ButIwantmore.Iwanther.
Iflipourpositions,gentlyandquicklyloweringherbacktothetowelandcenteringmyselfbetweenherspreadthighs.
“Can’twait?”shetauntsasshedragsherhandsupmysidesandreachesbetweenustomybelt.
Igrabherhands,onethentheother,topinthemaboveherhead.Lookingdirectlyintohereyes,Ivow,“Icanwaitlongenoughtomakeyoucomefirst.”
Shebitesherlip,baitingme.“Ihaveasurpriseforyoutoo.Takemydressoff.”
Idon’thavetobetoldtwice.Ipushbackontomyknees,andSamanthahelpsmelowerherdresstorevealherfulltits.Idroptosuckone,butshewrithes.“Nuh-uh.Lower.”
Ipushherdressupsoit’sbunchedaroundherwaistandinthemoonlight,Isquintatherpanties.They’repale—pinkorpeach,maybe?Andthere’ssomethingonthefront.“Doesthatsaysomething?”Iask.
“Getcloserandcheck,”sheorders
Isitbackonmyheels,spreadingmykneeswidesoherlegslayoverthem,openinghercoretome.Bendingdown,Iinhalehersweet,muskyarousal,andfromthisup-closeperspective,IcanseethatherpantiesreadLICKME!
Ichucklealoud.“Cute,butyoudon’tneedyourpantiestospeakforyou.Youhavenoproblemtellingmeexactlywhatyouwant.”
“Touché!”Withthat,Samanthapullsthemasidetorevealherpuffy,barelips.“Thendoit.”
Smiling,Itouchmylipsto…herrightinnerthigh,kissingandlickingandnuzzling.Andthenherleft,gettingclosertowhereshewantsmebutnotgivingherwhatshewantsyet.Ifwehadtime,I’dstartatherfingertipsandworshipherentirebodyagain,butneitherofushasthatdegreeofcontrolafterwaiting.
Nexttime,Ivowtomyself.
EspeciallywhenIseethatSamanthaistakingmattersintoherownhandsandrubbingherclitlazilywhileIpayattentiontoherdeliciousthighs.Igroan,“That’smine.”
Holdingherfingerout,shesays,“Thentakeit.”
Isuckherfingerintomymouth,savoringthejuices.Onceclean,Imovetoherclit,andsheshifts,settlingintoletmework.Happily,Ido—drinkingherdownwithlicksandsucksandslidingtwofingersintoherslipperypussytofuckher.Itonlytakessecondsbeforeshe’sgotherhandsinmyhair,holdingonfordearlifeasherhipsrisetogetevenclosertomytorturoustongue.
“Yes…yes…yes…”Samanthacriesintothenight.
Ilookupherbody,herbreastsshakingasshequiversandherheadthrownback.She’sontheedge,andIwantherorgasm.Shedeservesit,especiallyafteropeningherselfformebysharingthoughtsandfeelingsshetypicallykeepslockeddown.Iwanthertoknowthatshecantrustmewithitall—thephysicalandtheemotional.Idoublemyefforts,andshespasms,shatteringbeneathmeandspillingherjuicesovermyhand.
“Goddamn,Samantha,”Igroan,stunnedatherutterbeautywhenshecompletelyletsgo.ButI’matmylimit.Pastit,perhaps.Ipullmyfingersfromher,lickingthemsloppily,andwhenIsituptoripmyshirtopenandundomybelt,Itellher,“Touchyourself.Keepitgoing.Iwannafeelyoucomingwhenyou’rewrappedaroundmycock.”
Herfingersreturntoherpussy,dippinginsidetogathercreamandthensmearingitoverherclit.“Likethis?”sheasks,smirking.Sheknowsexactlywhatshe’sdoingtomeandisenjoyingthehelloutofit.
Igetmypantsandunderwearpushedovermyassandtakemycockinhand.
“Wantmetosuckyou?”Samanthapurrs,andIhavetosqueezetheheadsharplysoIdon’tcomeinstantly.
Ishakemyhead.“Can’t.”
Sheseemstounderstandthatit’snotthatIdon’twanthermouthbutthatI’mabouttocomerightnowafterwaitingsolong.“Thenfuckme.Iwantyourbigcockinsideme,Chance.Ineedit.”
She’sholdingherpantiesoutoftheway,herpussyrightthere,andIdon’tthink,Ifalloverher,onehandoneithersideofherheadasIslaminsideher,bottomingoutdeeponthefirststroke.
Samanthacriesoutattheinvasion,andIgrunthard.“Toomuch?”Imanagetogritout,prayingshedoesn’tsayyesbecauseIwantherlikethis—powerful,hard,raw.
“Moooore,”shemoansinstead,andmysoulignitesinsideme.
Igiveherwhatwebothwant,thrustingintoherroughly,myballsslappingagainstherass.Ifeelhergrippingmeallover,hernailsleavingmarksonmychest,myarms,mywaistasshetriestofindsomewheretoholdontoasIpoundherintothesoftturfbeneathus.
She’sunlockedabeastinsidemeIdidn’tknowexisted,andthatsideofmerelishesthefreedomofunleashingmyprimallustonher.Thepowerofthenight,thewomanunderme,herbreastsshakingwitheachsavagethrust,hermouthopenasshebegsformore,harder,deeper.It’sfreedom.
It’spower.
Igrabherthroat,holdinghertightasIpoundhermercilessly.“Tellmeyouloveit.Thatyouwantmetofuckyouonthegroundlikeadirtyslut.”
“I…Iloveit,”sheraspsaroundmyfingers.“Iloveyourcock.”
“Whoownsthispussy?”
“Youdo.”
Igrowl,pumpingharder.Isqueezeherthroattighter,andshemoans,grabbingmywristwhenI’montheedgeofgoingtootight.Forhalfasecond,Igopastthatlinebeforelettingup,andwelockeyes.Butthenhersrollbackandfluttershut.
She’sspasming,herpussyclenchingagainandagainaroundme,andIcanseeshewantstocome.
“Lookatme,”Icommand,forcingmyhipstostillbutstayingdeepinsideher.
Herhipsbuck,tryingtofuckherselfonme,andImovemyhandstoherbreasts,pinchinghernipplessharply.Shehissesbutholdsmyhandsthereasshearchesintothemformore.ShefightstoopenhereyesandfocuslikeItoldherto,andwhenshedoes,Icanseethathereyesarebeggingforit,butIgritmyteethandaskher,“Areyoubeinggreedy?WantingtocomeagainwhenIhaven’tcomeonce?”
Shenods,bitingherlipatthescolding.
“You’llcomewhenI’mgoodandreadyforyoutoormaybenotatall,”Igrowl.
Shewhimpers,andIfeelcompletelyincontrol.Rightupuntilshedropsherhandsbetweenusandgrabsthebaseofmycockwithonefinger,makingatightringaroundmeandsqueezing.Ithurts,butit’sagoodpain.Herotherhandgoesbacktoherclit,rubbingoveritroughly.
“Oryoustayrightthere—don’tmove,don’tcome,anddon’tyoudarefuckingspillyourseedinme—whileIcomeallaroundyou.Beagoodboy,Chance.Letmeuseyourdicktogetoff.It’ssomuchbetterthananyofmytoys,yaknow?”
She’slostinpleasure,almostmumblingasshetauntsme,andIdon’tknowwheretolook.Herusingmeforherpleasureissofuckingsexy,andifIwatchhertouchherself,I’mgoingtocome.Iknowit,Icanfeelitrightbehindthetightnessofhermakeshiftcockring.Butherfaceiscontortedinpleasuretoo,andit’ssofuckingsexythatshe’sgotthisfilthy,creativemind
“Samantha,”Iwarn,soclosetofallingapart.WhatevermirageofcontrolIhadisgone.Butshesqueezeshard,painfullyso,andtheedgeslipsaway.Atfirst,Imournitdesperately,butthenIrealizeshe’sgivingusmoretime,andIenjoythefeelingofheraroundmeforalittlelonger.
“Don’t,”shesnarls,andthensheshatters.
I’msweatingattherestraintittakestofeelhereveryquiver,flutter,andwaveandnotbeabletocomemyself,grittingmyteethsohardmyjawisgoingtohurtlaterandwatchingthemostbeautifulsightI’veeverhadthegiftofwitnessing.
Ifeeltheconvulsionsslowandyankmyselfoutofher,risingtomykneesandthenstandingoverher.“Getuphere,now.”
Iholdmycockoutforher,butasshemoves,Igripherfaceinmyotherhand,holdinghermouthopen.Isavagelykissherandthenspitinhermouth.“Swallowitall,likeagoodlittlewhore.EverythingIgiveyou.”
Hereyesgobrightwithexcitement,andsherearrangesherselfsothatshe’ssittingonhershins,hermouthatcock-level.Shetriestolickmefromroottotip,butthetimeforplayislongpast.Iweavemyhandsintoherhairononesideandholdherstill,feedinghermycockinchbyinchuntilhernoseispressedtotheshorthairsonmybody.Ikeepherthere,teasingattheentrancetoherthroattoseeifshe’sreadyforthat.
WhenIreleaseher,shegasps,andIseethatthere’sashineoftearsinhereyes,butshe’sgrinningindelight.“Fuckmymouth.Iloveit.”
Icuphercheeksinmyhands,holdingherstillthesamewayshedidmeasIthrustmycockintohermouthdeepandhard,buryingmyselfintoherthroatandgrowlingasIfeelhermusclescontractasshetriestohandleit.Pullingback,Idoitagainandagain,forcefuckinghermouthuntilIfeelthetearsrunningdownherprettycheeksandherlipsswellfromtheforceofmyhips.Myballsslapoffherchin,butinsteadoftryingtopullback,Samanthamoansinlust.
Ican’tseeherhands,butamomentlater,Ifeelthatshe’swetonefingerwithherowncumbecauseshereachesbeneathmeandtouchesherfingertiptomyasshole.Inearlyjumpoutofmyownskin,butSamanthahollowshercheeksatthesametimeandit’stoomuch.Ican’tpullawayfromthepleasure,notevenbecauseofthefear.
“Doit…”Igritout,stillonlyfifty-fourpercentsure.Butshehasn’tsteeredmewrongyet,andexploringiswhatit’sallaboutwithSamantha.Iwanttoexperienceitall…withher.
It’sweirdanduncomfortable,soIpoundintoherfaceharder,punishingher.Butthensuddenly,there’sanease.Ifeel…full?Andwhenshecrooksherfingerandelectricityshootsthroughme,upmyspineandintomyballs,Icomenearlyinstantly.
“Holyfuck,Samantha,”Ihiss,myvoicedeepandraspyasmyheadfallsback.Idon’tseethestars,though.MyeyesareclenchedtightasIridearazoredgeofecstasy.ForcingmyfocusbackdownbecauseIdon’twanttomissthis,Iask,“Youwantit?Wantmycuminyourmouth?”
Shewhimpersherassentasshecrooksherfingeragain,andIpullbackoutofherthroatjustasIstarttocum,threethickspurtsfillinghermouthbeforeIpullouttocoverhertitsintherestofmyejaculate.ThesoundsImakearemoreanimalthanman,primalandraw,andasSamanthagasps,hermouthpearlywithmyseed,ananimalvoiceinsidemeroarstolifetoo…mine.
Gaspingforair,Icollapsebacktothetowel,gatheringSamanthaatmysideafterwebothcleanupalittle.Istrokeherhair,lookingupatthestarsasmybraintriestoreset,toformwordsagain,andthebeastretreatstoitscaveinsideme,satedfornow.
“Can’tbelievewejustdidthat,”Ifinallywhisper.“Allofthat.”
Samanthanods,cuddlingagainstme.“Thefinalfrontier,wherenothinghasevergonebefore.”Shewigglesherindexfingerintheair.“Tillnow.”
Ican’thelpbutlaughandlookdownather.“DidyoujustquoteStarTrek?”
Sheshrugs,grinning.“Withalittleartisticliberty.”
Shesurprisesmeateveryturn,intoxicatingandaddictingmewithherbody,hermind,andherspirit.ThisismorethananythingI’veeverexperiencedbefore.TheclosestIcancompareittoisbeinghigh.
Theworlddoesn’tfeelthesame,andIcan’tgobacktohowIwasbefore.It’slikeI’vebeenblind,andnotonlycanIseenow,butIcanseeinsearingcolorsandhigh-definitionsharpness,contraststhatneverexistedbefore
AllbecauseofSamantha.
Andyet,thethoughtterrifiesmebecauseIfeellikeI’montheedgeoflosingcontrol.I’lldoanythingtofeelthisagainandagain.Anything.CHAPTER19SAMANTHA
Thelasttwoweekshaveflownbyinawildwhirlwindofsex—classesattheclub,sellingdildos,andactualsex.
JaxxandIhavebeenpeddlingtoyshandoverfist.We’rebasicallylikethetoystorewiththelastTickleMyElmoonChristmasEveandpeoplearenearlycat-fightingtogetoneforthemselves.Iswearit’sliketheydon’trealizetheyhavetenfingersthatcandoallsortsofthings.
Butit’sworkingoutforme.Withourlastparty,InettedmorethananentirepaycheckfromthecoffeeshopIusedtoworkat,andthebreathingroominmybudgetisamajorrelief.
SexwithChancehasbeenallovertheplace—literally.Myplace,hisplace,attheclub,andinhiscar.Butalso,allovermetaphorically.We’vehadlong,slowhoursofluxuriatingineachother’sbodies,quickieswithourclotheshaphazardlyshovedoutoftheway,andsomefunsessionswitheverytoyI’vegot.Thoseseemtostartsillyandplayfulandturndelightfullytorturous,somaybemycustomershaveitright.
Butithasn’tallbeensexwithChance.We’vetalkedandlaughedalottoo.
LikeChancesuggested,wedidmakeittothegrocerystore,whichwasahilariousdate.Accustomedtohisdeliveryservice,Chancehadnoideawhereanythingwasorwhatitcost.Meanwhile,Iwentstraightforthecroutonsmadewithday-oldbreadandgenericbrands.Buttogether,wegotenoughingredientstomakeadeliciouscandlelightdinnerthatdidadmittedlyendupwithataperedcandleinplacesI’veneverputacandlebefore.
Anotherday,heshowedupwithPeanutButteronaleashandnearlybeggedmetogoonawalkwiththem,sayingthedogkeptheadbuttinghim‘inarathersensitivearea.’Butthesweetanimalsatandshookhandswithme,happytotrotalongaroundtheparkatmyside,andChancedeemedmeadogwhispererinadditiontomymanwhisperertitle.
Lastbutnotleast,I’vehadtwomoresuccessfulclassesattheclub,andhopefully,today’sgoesequallywell.Theguysaremostlyattentive,willingtolearn,andonlygivemeshitoffandon,notconstantly.I’mcallingthatawin,especiallywhenmymentorsessionshavebeentougher.Acoupleoftheguyscameintochat,buttheymostlyseemedtowantmetotalkdirtytothemorshockmewiththeirowncrudeness.ButI’vehadmoregoodthanbad,sothataddedsuccessontopoftheclassesmakesmefeelten-foot-tallandbulletproofattheclub.
“Goodmorning,Jim,”ItellhimwithasmileasIwalkthroughthedoubledoors.Myheelsclickonthefloor,buthisarecompletelysilentasherisestogreetme.I’dlovetothinkhe’shappytoseeme,buthe’snotreachingformyhand.Hewantswhat’sinit.Isnatchthebagbackoutofhisreach.“Ah,uh-uh!Youknowthedeal.”
ThishasbecomeourroutineondaysIcometotheclub,andIenjoythebanterwithhim.Ithinkhedoestoo,thoughifI’mnotcareful,he’lltalkmyearoffwithanunfilteredstreamofconsciousnessandI’llstillbestandinghereatthefrontdeskwhenmyclassissupposedtofinish.
“You’reasbadastheseshit-for-brainsboys.”Hegesturesbehindhimwherethere’sagroupoffiveguyswho,inoppositiontoJim’sdeclaration,seemtobestudying.“Theybeennosesdowninthatbookforatleasttwohours.Youknowwhatcanbeaccomplishedinthattime?Hell,I’vesolvedwholecasesinlesstimethantheytaketowritesomepaperaboutshitthatdon’tmatteralick.”
Jimisaretiredpoliceofficer,I’velearned,andhe’slivedahistorybook’sworthofexperiences.
Itiltmyheadtoaddalil’sumpthin-sumpthintomymockglare.Hehuffs,annoyed.“Fine,butyou’renotnearlythesweetthangIthoughtyouwas.”Helevelshisgazeatme,butIdon’tshrink.Actinglikesomesmalltalkishardashell,hesays,“Fine,g’morning,MissRedding.Lovelyday,ain’tit?NowcanIhavemydadgumcinnamonroll?”
Histhievingfingersstealthebagfrommyhand,andItease,“See?Thatwasn’tsobad,wasit?”
“Paininmyassiswhatchuare,”Jimgrumbles,butit’sahollowgesture.“AndwhenmywifefiguresoutthatI’mpackingonthepoundsbecauseyou’refeedingmecinnamonrolls,I’mmagiveheryournameandletyouhandletherowyousowed.”
It’sanemptythreat.Jim’swifeissweet,kind,andhungthemoonwithstrandsofhersilverhairaccordingtohim,somybetisshewouldn’thurtafly,muchlessme,oversomesugarybread.
HesitsdownbehindthedeskandpullsouttheboxfromOblivionCafé.Heopensit,grinninglikeit’sthegold,glowinglightinsidethebriefcaseinPulpFiction.Iswearhe’shearingangelssing.“Enjoy,”Isay,notsurehe’llregisterthatI’vespokennowthathe’sinacinnamonrollcoma.
Forgetsextoys,justfeedthismancinnamonrolls.
I’malmostpasthimwhenJimcallsout,“Hey,Samantha!”Ipause,glancingbackquestioningly.“Thankssomuch,honey.Thesethingsgiveanoldmanagoodreasontogetouttabedinthemornin’.ButIcain’tgointhatcaféwithallthatracket.”Hestickshispinkieinhisearandwigglesitroughly.“Andthatfellaintheresetsoffmyinternalmetaldetectorsjustwithwhat’sinhisface.”
Ilaugh.“HappytogetyouasnackbecausethenitmeansIgetonetoo.”
Ididn’tgetarollthismorning,butmyicedcoffeehasenoughcinnamonandcaramelsyrupinittocountasadessert.Thehopeisthatthecaffeineandsugarwillgetmethroughtoday’sclasstopicbecauseit’sgonnabeabitchandI’malreadyexhaustedjustthinkingaboutit.
Inthemeetingroom,IfindChanceleaningonatable,hislegsoutstretchedandcrossedattheankles,lookingcasuallysexywithouteventrying.He’sstaringathisphonewithhisconcentrationfaceon,hisbrowsknittogether,hisjawset,andhisthumbflickingoverthescreenashescrolls.Hisgraysuitiscuttoperfection,andthegreentiegiveshimalookoffreshnessratherthestuffinesshefightsagainst.
“Mr.Harrington,”Isayformallyasifwedidn’thavephonesexlessthantwelvehoursago.He’sthereasonIneedtheliquidpick-me-upbecausewestayedupafterward,talkinguntilwewerebothfallingasleep.
Hisheadjerksup,andhisentiredemeanorchanges,relaxingashesmilesthecharminggrinthatdrivesmecrazy.“MissRedding,Iwashopingtoseeyoubeforeclass.”
Thisisthedancewedohereattheclub,walkingthelineofprofessionalandflirty.Ineverthoughtthedichotomybetweenhowweactataplacewherewehaveexpectationstofulfillandhowweactbehindcloseddoorswouldbesosexy,butitis.It’salmostlikeroleplayingalldaywithhimasthegoodguyboss,measthenaughtybutniceteacher,andthenlater,we’reourtrueselves,onlymoreintense,recklesslyenjoyingeachotherwithabandon.
“Wereyouwantingtojointoday?”Iask,settingmylaptopupandsyncingtothescreen.
I’verearrangedtheroomfromtherowsofchairsintoalargecirclesoit’smorewelcomingandlessstructured,buttheslidesareagoodwaytokeepclassesfocusedsoIgetthroughthewholelessoninthetimeallotted.
“Iwish,”hesays,onebrowquirkedinanot-so-professionalwayashiseyesscanmefromheadtotoe,notmissingadetail,“butwehaveapodcasttorecordtoday.IwaslookingoverEvan’snotes.”Heholdshisphoneupbeforedroppingitintohispocket.“Ididnoticethetopicoftoday’sclass…”
Hetrailsoff,soIfillinforhim,“Sexappealanddesirability.Don’tworry,it’snotaboutbigdicks.Oratleastnotallaboutthem.”
Hisjawdropsopen.Iswearhe’sstillshockedeverytimeItalkaboutsexinnormalconversationlikeit’sano-big-dealpartoflife.Later,he’lltellmetoswallowhiscocklikeagoodslutandtalkabouthowgoodhewantstomakemypussyfeel,butsayingtheword‘dick’aloudinpublic?Totallytaboo!
Ilaughandpushhismouthclosed,liftinghisdroppedchinwithonefinger.“It’saboutwhat’sdeemedsexyandhowitchangesthroughtimeandcanbedifferentforeachperson.I’mexpectingittobeabutton-pushingone.Thetime-testedquestion…whichisbetter,titsorass?”Iholdmyhandsout,balancetestingtheoptionsthoughtfully.
Hisphonemakesanoiseinhispocketandheinhalesheavily.“I’vegottorun.Evanwantstotestthenewset-upintherecordingroom.”
Itfeelsoddtosimplywalkawayfromeachother.Nokiss,nohug,notouching.Chancewalkspastmetowardthedoor,butpauses.“Talktoyoulater.”
Igrinevilly,knowingexactlywhatI’mdoingwhenIsay,“Yessir,Mr.Harrington.”
Hegroansdeepandquietinhischest.“You’rekillingme.”
“Youlikeit,”Itease,winkingathimsalaciously.
Heshootsmeastormylook,vowingthatI’mgoingtopayforthatbeforewalkingouttodothepodcast.
Thoughhemighthavetomakeastopinhisofficetohandlethingsfirst,Ithinkwithaself-satisfiedsmirk
Theymust’vepassedinthehallwaybecauseStephenentersonesecondlater.“Hi,MissRedding.”Headdsanawkwardwavetothegreetingandsitsdownontheothersideofthecirclefromme.“How’reyoudoing?”
“Hi,Stephen!”Igreethim,genuinelygladtoseehim.He’sgotsomuchpotentialandisdoingbetterwitheveryclass.“Welcome!”
Stephennods,andIgreetalltheguysaswarmly,waitingastheyfist-bumpandhigh-fiveeachotherbeforesittingdownforclass.
“Today,we’regoingtotalkaboutwhat’ssexy—”
“Youare,”Lucasinterjects,andseveralguyschuckle.
Icutmyeyeshisway,callinghimonhisshit.“Isthatsupposedtobeacompliment?”
Helickshislipslasciviously.“Yeah,youknow,justlettingyouknowthatIappreciateyou.”
“Butthat’snotappreciatingme.Itdoesn’tflatterme,acknowledgemyvalue,orshowevenabare-bonedunderstandingofwhatit’sliketobeawomanintoday’sworld.Youworryaboutgettingrejectedwhenyoushootyourshot,”Ichastisehim,flatlyandprofessionally.“Meanwhile,womenworryaboutgettingassaulted.Hell,doyouknowthatIcan’tevenpeehere?Iwon’ttaketheriskofbeingthatvulnerableinabuildingfullofmen.It’snotanevenplayingfield,andnobodyaskedforyouropiniononmybody,sokeepittoyourselfandmindyourownbusiness,m’kay?”
Lucas’seyeshavegonewiderandwiderwithembarrassment,butthentheynarrowasheglaresatmeangrily.“Dayum,Iwasjusttryingtocomplimentyou.Noneedtogetallbitchyaboutit.”
“Youshouldapologize,”Stephensays.Hisvoiceisstronger,morecommandingthanI’veeverheardfromhim,andinside,Idoatinycheerforhisconfidencegrowth.
“Thanks,Stephen.Butratherthananapology,Lucas…IwantyoutothinkaboutwhatI’vesaidandevolve.”Suitablychastised,henods,andIcontinuewiththelesson.“Let’sdiscuss—likeadults—what’ssexyandhowourexperiencesshapeourpreferences.”
Iclicktothetitleslide,forcinglightnessintomyvoice.“ILikeBigButtsAndIDon’tKnowWhy,”IsayasIgetstarted.
Wegothroughitall,bothfemaleandmaletraitsthataretypicallyconsideredattractive—bigbutts,littlebutts,bigbreasts,littlebreasts,smile,hair,height,muscles,dadbods,beards,clean-shaven,bigdicks,longdicks,andthickdicks.BecauseofcoursetheywanttotalkaboutdicksasmuchaspossibletoseeifI’llblush,whichfortherecord—Idon’t.
Ithinkbytheendofit,they’regettingit—it’sallsexy.
“Andthoseidealsofwhat’ssexytoyouspecificallyareshapedbyeverythingaroundyou—advertisements,socialmedia,societyatlarge,orevensomethingassimpleasabig-tittyGothgirlbeingnicetoyouonetimeandnowthat’syourdreamgirl,”Ihalf-joke.“Sobemindfulaboutwhatyou’reinputtingintoyourmindassexy.”
Soon,werunoutoftime,andtheguysstand,readytocarryonwithwhateverelseisontheircalendarfortheday.Lucasgetsmyattentionandsendsmeachinliftofacknowledgementonhiswayoutthedoor.It’snotanapology,exactly,buthe’ssayinghe’llthinkaboutwhatIsaid.It’senoughfornow.
Surprisingly,it’sAnthonywhocomesovertome.
“MissR,wantedtosaysorryagain.Wewerebeingstupidthatday,goofingoff,andIdidn’tthinkforasecondthatwemight’vescaredthefuckoutofyouandyourfriend.”Herunshisfingersthroughhishairanxiously,andIcanstillseethefaintestsuctioncupoutlineonhisforehead,eventhismanyweekslater.
“Thankyou.Itrulyappreciatethat,”Itellhim.
Whenheleaves,IrealizeStephenisstillhere,stackingchairsalongthefarwall.
“Letmehelpwiththat,”Isaywithawarmsmile.“Thankyou,Stephen…forthechairsandforcallingLucasout.Itmakesadifferencewhenyourpeersdoitinsteadofme.”
Hesnortsderisively.“He’snotmypeer.He’sacretinlookingtogetlaid.”
Asmalllaughescapesathisvehemence,butStephendoesn’tcrackasmile,muchlesslaugh.IglancebackatthedoortheguyswalkedoutofandwonderifStephen’sright.
“Ilikedyourperspectiveonattractivenessincreasingasyougettoknowsomeone—”
WhateverStephenwasgoingtosayiscutoffbyJimcomingin.“Hey,Samantha,comecheckthisout.Theboysarechattering‘boutyourclassesonthepodcast.Youprobablywannahearthis.”
“Oh!”Iexclaim.“Thanks,Jim!”I’mhalfwaytothedoorwhenIrememberthatStephenwassayingsomething.Iturnback,buthe’sfinishingupwiththechairsandhisbackistome.“Seeyanextclass,Stephen?”
Hethrowsawavemywaywithasmallsmile.“Sure.Bye,MissRedding.”
Itakeoffdownthehall,myheelsclickingoverthetiletothemediaroomwhereEvanusuallyeditsthepodcasts.Theonethey’rerecordingrightnowisplayingonthecomputer.
IsitdowninthechairandwatchthecoloredlinesgoingupanddowntoindicatethesoundsofChanceandEvantalking.
“Okay,I’lladmitit…youwereright,”Evansays.“Addingafemaleperspectivehasmadeabigdifferenceintheclub.ButIstillsayrulesixhasitsplace.”
“Blah,blah,blah,allI’mhearingis…I’mright,”Chanceteasesback.“Youhearditherefirst.Evan’sgoingtolistentomefromnowon.MyopinionisthebestbecauseI’mright!”
IcanalmostseeChancethrowinghisarmsupinvictoryasheexaggerateswildlywithwhatEvanactuallysaid,andIlaughtomyself,tryingtostayquietsoIdon’tinterrupttheirrecording
“ThatisnotwhatIsaid,”Evansputters,thoughI’mprettysureit’spartoftheirbanter.“ButI’dliketoputitouttoouraudience…howwouldyoufeelaboutagueststarfortheshowthat’sawomansothatwegetamorevariedviewpoint?Letusknowinthecomments.”
Ishetalkingaboutmejoininginonthepodcasttoo?Ikickmyfeetandspininthechair,silentlysquealingattheidea.
NotonlywouldithelptheClub,Ithink,butwhatawaytolaunchmyprofessionalbonafides!SamanthaRedding,world-famoussextherapist!Moveover,Dr.Ruth!CHAPTER20CHANCE
“Don’tmove.I’llberightback,”ItellSamantha.Hoppingupfrommybedwhereshe’sspreadoutlikeastarfishinapost-blisshaze,Ismackherassandlaughinglypromise,“Snacksandhydration,STAT!”
Shelaughstoo,callingoutweakly,“Gatorade,please!”Amomentlater,herheadflopsbacktothepillow.
Naked,Istridetothekitchenanddigaroundinthefridge.IgrabacheesestickforSamanthafromthestashInowstock.TwoGatorades,andthenIpopanegg-white-veggiemuffinintomymouthforsomeprotein.
I’vegotitallbalancedinmyhandswhenIheartheelevatording.
Shit!Whocouldthatbe?
Onlyacoupleofpeoplehavemybuildingcode.Notmanyneedthattypeofaccesstome,andnoneofthemneedtoseenaked.
Thedoorsopen,andIlungeforapillowtohidemydick,lettingthecheesestickanddrinksfly.“No!”Ishout,andmymuffinfallsfrommymouthtothefloor.
Notgivingtwofucksaboutwhatshemightbewalkinginon,Kaylastrutsfromtheelevatorandintomylivingroomlikeit’sherown.“Sentonamissionfromonhigh,soyourobjectionisvetoed.Andit’snothingIhaven’tseenbefore.”
Kaylalookslikeshe’scomestraightfromtheofficeinaprofessionalblouseandskirtpairedwithhighheelsthatmakehermodeltall.Herblondehairisgatheredatthenapeofherneck,andbehindtheglassesshetypicallywearstoblockthebluelightonthecomputer,Iknowhereyesmissnothing.Whatevershe’sherefor,hersecondaryassignmentisclearlyinformation-gathering.
Ipressthepillowabittighter,makingsurenothingprivateisvisible,andsighheavily.Iwanttoscream,butthefastestwaytogetheroutofhereistolethercompletehermission.“Whatdoyouwant,Kayla?Whosentyou?”
“Mom,ofcourse,”shesayswithaneyerollasshesetsherpurseonanendtable.I’mprettysureshegivesthesurfaceaswipetestfordusttoo.Asifshe’dfindanyhere.“AuntViv’scomingtotownforherbirthday,sowe’reallbeingpunishedwithafamilydinner.”
Idon’tgiveashitaboutAuntViv.She’smydad’ssisterandcompletelyinsufferable.Whenpeoplestartedcallingentitled,bossy,I’m-better-than-youtypewomen‘Karens’,we’dprivatelyjokedthattheyshould’vecalledthemViviansbecausethecaricaturefitsheronehundredpercent.She’snevermetapersonshe’dconsiderherequal,neverthoughtaboutsomeoneelsebeforeherself,anddronesonendlesslyabouthowhersonisbasicallytheSecondComing.
Noneofwhichisremotelytrue.
Hatingherisoneofthefewthingsmysiblingsagreeon.
“Notme—”Istarttosay,butI’minterruptedbyasweetvoicesayingfilthythingsmysistermostdefinitelydoesnotneedtohear.
“Chance,ifyoudon’thurryupandfuckmeagain,I’mgoingforroundtwowiththeUnicornHorn…andwithoutyou.”Samanthaappearsinmybedroomdoorway,wearingmythankfully-mostly-buttoneddressshirtfromtodayandabrattygrin.Shelookssexyashellinmyshirt,andwhensheshiftsfrombarefoottobarefoot,Irealizethatshestillhasthebuttplugwewereplayingwithinherass.Unbidden,mycockstirsbehindthepillow,whichIcannothave,soIforcemyselftothinkaboutViv’slastappearanceintown,duringwhichshetoldusthatwe’re‘disappointmentstotheHarringtonname’.
Thatdoesit,redirectingbloodfrommydicktomywholebodyinawhooshofanger,andmycockdeflates.Alittle
Ilookpointedlytowardthelivingroom,andSamanthafollowsmygaze.
“Oh,shit!”sheexclaimswhensheseesKayla.Shetriestobackupintothebedroom,butIclearmythroat.
Samantha’seyesjumptomine,andeversosubtly,Ishakemyhead,tellinghershe’snotgoinganywhere.Iwanthertostandthere,mycumdrippingfromherpussy,apluginherass,andmynamestillonherlipsasshetriestoholdapoliteconversation.She’sturnedmeintosucharidiculousmonster,butIwouldn’tchangeit.Notnow,whenIknowtherewardsthat’llcomefromitlater.
Sassily,sheplantsherfeet.Challengeaccepted.
Secretly,Ican’twaittoseewhopaysforthislater…meorher?
“Goodtoseeyouagain,Kayla,”Samanthasayswithaneasysmile.
“Uh,youtoo.Samantha,right?Luna’sfriend?Ithinkwemetatthewedding?”Kayla’slookingaroundforclueslikeshe’sStevewithahandy-dandynotebook,butwhatshe’swalkedinonisabundantlyclear.Whenhereyesjumptomine,peeringdeep,Icanalmosthearherinmyheadasking,“Areyouforreal,man?”
Idon’tdate.Idon’tbringwomenhome.Myfamilyknowsmeforonething,mysingle-mindedfocusontheclub.Yet,here’sproofthatsomethingcompletelydifferentishappening.Withmysister-in-law’sbestfriend.Therearesomanythingswronginthatthought,Kaylaprobablydoesn’tknowwheretostartwithgivingmeshit.
“Yeah,”Samanthaanswersandthenholdsupherhands.“Guiltyonallcharges.”
Thedressshirtlifts,exposinghigheronherthighsanddangerouslyclosetoevenmore,andjealously,Idon’twantSamanthaflashingherpussytoanyonebutme.“Kayla,couldyousaywhatyoucametosayandkindlygetthehellout?”Isay,takingthereinsofthisawkwardmoment.
ButI’veplayedmyhand,andKaylaknowsit.Hereyesglint,andIcantellshe’sconsideringdoingtheexactopposite.That’showKaylarolls,chafingagainstwhatanyonetellsheranddoingwhatevershewants.
“Icango…”Samanthaoffers,moretoletusspeakprivatelythantohideaway.
ButKayla’sthreestepsaheadalready,andthoughshedoeswhatIasked,it’swithoneofthoseKayla-specialtwists.“Oh,it’sfine,Samantha.IwastellingChancethatAuntViv’scomingtodinnerthisweekend.Allhandsondeckandexpectedtobethere,withnoexcusesaccepted,”shesaysstaccato,likeafamilydinnerisamilitaryfunction.“Oh!”Kaylablurtsasthoughshejusthadthiscompletelynew,novelidearightthisinstant,whichshemostcertainlydidnot.“Samantha,youshouldcometodinnertoo.Lunawillbethere.”
“Idon’tthink—”IstarttodeclineonSamantha’sbehalf,notwantinghertobesubjectedtothehorrorshowthatismyfamily,especiallyAuntViv.ButwhenIlookather,Samantha’ssmilehasallbutcrumbled,andIrealizeshethinksIdon’twantherthereforselfishreasons.ShehasnoreasontoconsiderthatI’msavingher,nothidingher.“Imean,yeah,ofcourse.We’llbethere.”
KaylawatchesthedramaplayoutbetweenSamanthaandmewithraptinterest,butafteramomentofcalculation,shesnapsoutofit.“GuessI’dbettergetgoing.Myworkhereisdone,”shesaysbreezily.
***
“Idon’thavetogo.It’snobigdeal,”Samanthastatesagain,hervoiceutterlyandeerilycalm.
Thatmakesthefifthopportunityshe’sgivenmetonottakehertonight,andIrefuse,thesamewayIhavetheotherfourtimes.
“I’veneverbeenlesssure,butnotofyou.”Isigh,squeezingthesteeringwheelaswedrivedownthehighway.“Inaway,I’mashamedofmyfamily,andI’mtakingyouup-closeforafront-rowseatoftheHarringtonsattheirworst.Thebigdeal,asyoucalledit,isthatyou’regoingtoseemedifferentlyafterthis.”
Shedropshervoice,whisperingsarcastically,“Hey,Chance,Ialreadythoughtyouwerearich-boyasshole.”WhenIlaughalittle,shesmilestriumphantlyandcontinuesinherusualvoice.“You’veproventobemorethanthat,sotheirtreatingyousomesortofwayisn’tgoingtomakemesuddenlyfigureoutthatyou’reabigshot.Thegoodnewsis,Idon’tcare.Tonight,I’mheretosupportyou,notinfiltrate‘TheFamily’.”
Shemakesitsoundlikewe’reroyals,andIguesstosomepeople,wemightaswellbe.Therehavebeenplentyofwomenwhohaveapproachedmybrothersandme,hungryforamealtickettowealth.
Ironically,Samanthaisn’tinterestedineasymoneybutinsteadwantstoearnherown,andtheonlythingIcanholdoverheristhesex,whichwhileamazing,isonlyasmallpartofwhatIenjoyabouther.Ourtimetogetherhasbecomemuchmoremeaningfulthanthat,butI’mcarefultonotletonbecause,moneyornot,dickornot,Ithinkshe’dbailonmeinasecondifshethoughtIhadrealfeelingsforher.
“Thanksforthat,”IsayasIslipmyhandontoherthighandsqueezegently,purposefullymakingthemomentphysical.“DidItellyouthatyoulookbeautifultonight?”
Shedoes—inareddressthat’smodern,knee-length,andskimsoverhercurvesinatastefulwaythatstillgetsmerevvedupbecauseIknowwhat’sbeneaththestructuredfabric.
Dinneratmyfamilyhomeisn’texactlyatypicalSaturdaynight,soI’dofferedtoshopwithher.Honestly,Iwantedtoseehertryingondresses,twirlinghappilyandsmilinginthem,andbuythedressforhersinceit’smyfaultsheneededitinthefirstplace.ButI’dunderstoodwhenshesaidsheandLunawouldgoshoppingtogether.
“Youdidmentionitatimeortwo.AndItoldyouthatyoulooklikeapoliticiantryingtogarnervotesinacontentiousdistrict,”sheteases,lookingmeupanddown.
WebothknowIlookgreat,butadmittedly,I’mdressedforwarbecauseitfeelslikethat’swhatI’mwalkinginto.Blacksuit,whiteshirt,andaredpaisleypowertiethatunexpectedlycoordinateswithSamantha’sdress.It’smuchmoretraditionalthanmytypicalsuits,butthisdinnerwarrantsit.
“Morelikecombative,”Icorrect.“Meversustherestofmyfamily.”
“Butyou’venevergoneinwithmeatyourback.I’vewhippedCarterintoshape,gottenyouspeakingintongues,andIthinkKaylaandIarekindredspirits.Likethis,”shesays,crossingherfingers.“Asfortherestof‘em?I’lltell‘emtofuckofftendifferentwaysbeforethesaladcourseifIhavetoandsuggestatoyortwowithwhichtodoit.”
Ihavenodoubtthatshewould.Ormightstill.
“Ithinkthishasadistinctpossibilityofbeingthebestfamilydinnerever,”Ipredict,“thoughI’dstillratherdoalmostanythingbutthistonight.”
Exitingthehighway,Idrivethroughthebackroadstowardhome.I’mtakingthelongway,tryingtodelaytheinevitable,butit’shavingtheoppositeeffectfromwhatI’dhoped.Insteadoftheoverhangoftreesanddesertedroadhelpingmecalmandcenteringmymindbeforebattle,I’mgettingmoreandmorestressedwitheverypassingmileasIplayoutpotentialscenariosandhowImightrespond.
“Areyoutryingtoleavefingerprintsonmyleg?I’mnotagainstahandprinthereorahickeythere,butvisibleonesattheHarringtonestate?Whatwilltheysay?”shedeclares,soundingmockoutragedassheplacesahandtoherchesttograbinvisiblepearls.
Ilaugh,thankfulforthelightnessshebrings.“Ineededthat.”Isqueezeherthighoncemoreandthenrelaxmygrip.
“Iknowwhatyouneed,”shesuddenlysays.
WhenIcutmyeyesherway,hermischievoussmilebothexcitesandworriesme.Iliftmybrowsinquestion.
“Youneedtorelax,andthebestwaytodothatis…”BeforeIfigureoutwhatshe’supto,she’stwistinginherseatandleaningovertheconsole.“Watchtheroad.”
“Samantha,”Iargue,“wecan’t.”I’mstillnotsurewhatshe’splanning,butitcan’tbeanythingsafeorreasonableinthatposition.
“We’renot.Iam.You’redriving,soeyesforward,Mr.Harrington.”Herdeftfingershavemadequickworkofmyzipper,andwithabitofadjusting,shefreesmygrowingcockandtakesitintoherhand,givingmeafewloosestrokes.
Iglancedownandfindheralreadylookingatme,testingtoseewhetherI’llobeyherorder.Thisisdangerous,ridiculouslyso,butshe’ssoirresistibleandthere’snooneelseontheroadinfrontoforbehindme.There’sapartofmethatlovestheideaofdoingthisonthewaytoaproperdinnertoo,likeit’sarebellionagainstwhatIshoulddo.
Sensingmyindecision,sheleansoverfurtherandkissesthetipofmycock.“Fuck,”Ihiss,cursingmyseatbeltforkeepingmefromburyingmyselfintoherthroatinonestroke.Sheknowsshe’sgotme.
Hertonguedevilishlytracestherimbeforeshetakesmoreinandoutofhermouth.Shecan’tswallowallofme,theangleisn’trightforthat,butit’senoughtogetmeonedgequickly.Witheachsuck,Ipressthegasalittle,creepingupinspeedasIlosemyselfinthemoment.
Theworlddoesn’texist.Thelawandruleshavefadedaway.Onlythethrillofhermouthdrawingmehigheraswegofastermatters.Shecansenseit,hearingtheengineroarasshespeedsup,andhertongue…
Igiveintoher,surrenderingtotheecstasyandmind-blowingpleasure,lostinthemomentassheusesherhand,hermouth,andhertonguetodrawmetoanexplosivebrink.Surprisingly,beingrestrictedbytheseatbeltandtherequirementtofocusontheroad,andthereforehavingtosubmittoSamantha’smercy,isamajorturn-onIneverwould’veguessedI’drespondto,butfuckifI’mnotalreadyonedge.
“Getready,”IgrowlasIfeelmyclimaxcoming.“Don’tyoudarespilladrop.Swallowitalllikemygoodcumslut,m’kay?”
Shemoansheragreement,andthevibrationdoesit.
IgripthesteeringwheeltightandpushthegasabitharderasIexplode,theworldalmostdissolvinginarushofwhitelightasIfillhereagermouth.Andtruetoherbewitchingnature,shedrainseverysingledropfromme,notmissingasinglebit.
SittingbackinherseatasIslowbackdown,Samanthahumsandwipesatherlipsinaladylikemovethatbeliesthedecidedlyunladylikethingshejustdid.“Delicious.”
“You’reamazing,”IsighasIfumblewithresettingmyclothesone-handedly.
Satisfiedwithherself,shesmirks.“Feelingbetternow?”
Ichuckleundermybreath.“YouknowIam,andthoughI’dlovetomakeyouputafootonthedashandwatchyouworkmagiconyourselftoo,I’vebeendoingloopsonthebackroadstogiveusmoretime,andwe’relate.”
Touchingupherlipstick,Samanthacutshereyesmyway.“Iwantmorethanaquickie,andlater,afterwerockthisdinnerparty,youcanthankmeproperly.Onyourknees.”
“Withpleasure,”Iagreeeasily,morethaneagertodothat.
Beforeher,Ineverwould’vedonesomethinglikethis.Imean,I’venevergottensomuchasaseatbeltticketandammoreBoyScoutthanBadBoy.Doingwildthingsintheprivacyofourhomes,orevenattheclubbehindlockeddoors,isonething.
Doingthemwhiledrivingdowntheroadisanothercompletely.
I’msofarfrommyprofessedmoralsandvaluesthatIdon’tevenknowwhattocallmyself.IftheguysattheclubknewwhatI’mdoingwithSamantha,theywouldaccusemeofbeingahypocrite.ButIdon’tfeellikeahypocrite.Ifeelliketheworld’sfinallymakingsense,andthechaosIconstantlytrytoorganizehasinsteadbecomeabeautiful,blurrywatercolor.
Ifeelmoreincontrolofmyselfaswepulluptotheestate,myremotecontrolgivingmeunfetteredaccessthroughtheheavyirongate.Aswedrivein,Inoticethecarsfillingtheparkingarea…minusKyle’smotorcycle,ofcourse,becausethere’snothingthatsetshimoffmorethanamandatoryappearancerequirement.He’sprobablyleftthecity,ifnotthestate,forthenight.
“Thewholegang’shere,”InoteasIpark.Lookingover,ItakeSamantha’shand.“Youready?”
“Isthatatrickquestion?”shereplies.“Noonecouldbereadyforthis.It’slikeaskingifI’mpreparedforazombieapocalypse,butthezombiesareallraccoons,andI’marmedwithawhiskandaprayer.AndyouknowhowmuchIloveraccoons.”
“Awhat?”Ilaugh,stillnotsureexactlywhatshejustsaid.Butshe’sright,dinnerattheHarringtonestatewithmywholefamily,plusAuntViv,isnearlyapocalyptic,andnoamountofplanningorstrategizingisenough.CHAPTER21SAMANTHA
Thisisabigfuckingdeal.
ChancehasbeenanxiousaboutthisdinnersinceKaylamadehersurpriseappearance,andI’vedoneeverythingIcantohelphimchill,tonoavail.I’mnotsureifit’stheauntthing,orhisdad,orme?
Nowthatwe’rehere,I’mfreakingoutabit…ontheinside.Outside,IlookaroundattheimpressiveHarringtonestateasthoughit’satypicalsuburbanhome,despitetheartificiallyperfectgreenlawn,thescaleofthefrontporch,andthemuseum-worthystatueinthecenterofthedriveway.
Yep,nothingtoseehere…justalittle-dickedGreekgodstandingamidspittingwaterstreams.
Outside,Itrytomakeitseemlikethat’swhatI’mthinking.Inside’sawholedifferentstory.
Idonotbelonghere,forsomanyreasons.
Chancetakesmyhandasweapproachthefrontdoorbutstopsshort,staringatalarge,deepredLincolnNavigatorwithacustomlicenseplatethatsaysCHUCK.Sighingdeeply,hemumbles,“Shit.Ishould’veknown.”
“What’swrong?”
“KaylasaidAuntVivwascoming.Iknewthatmeantherannoyingsonwouldbehere,butIdidn’tknowmygrandparentswerecoming.”
“IfeellikeI’msupposedtoknowwhythat’sbad,butIdon’t.”I’mlookingattheSUVliketheseunwantedgrandparentsmighthopoutandattackus,whetherphysicallywithsmackinghugs,emotionallywithbackhandedcompliments,orgastronomicallywithexpiredWerther’scandiesfromthebottomofherpurse.
Chancedropshisvoice,andspeakingquickly,hetellsme,“Grandpawasabitofanold-fashionedchauvinistwithhiskids.Onlycaredabouthavingasonandstartedoffwithfourdaughters.WhenhefinallyhadDad,heputeverythingintohim.Time,resources,education…thecompany.Myauntswerehurt,inparticular,Viv.Andshebringsitup.Alot.Grandpalearned…toolate.”
Stillprocessing,Isay,“Soundslikeyourdaddidn’tlearnmuchfromthatexample,huh?Hedidn’ttreatyouandyoursiblingsmuchbetter.”
Chanceblinks,hisbrowsfurrowinglikethisisnewinformation,butsurely,he’sputthattogetherbefore.It’ssoobvious.Youparentthewayyouwereparentedunlessyoumakeaconsciousefforttodosomethingelse.Hopefully,somethingthatbreaksthecycle.
Beforewecandigdeeperintotheideaofgenerationaltrauma,thefrontdooropens.Chancedoesn’tintroducemetothemanwhoanswers,whoactsasifhe’sasinvisibleastheairaroundusashestepsoutofsightbehindthedoor,remindingmeofthestaffatthefancyrestaurant.NowonderChancedidn’tgivetheirbehaviorasecond’snotice,it’sthesameathome.InsteadChanceleadsmedeeperintothehouseastheheavydoorslamsshutbehindme.Isuddenlyfeeltrappedinanextremelygildedcage.
Thisisridiculous—housestaff,afoyerthesizeofmyentireapartment,andafamilylinewhereinheritinganentirecompanyisthenorm.
IwhispertoChance,“Ican’timaginegrowinguplikethis.”
Chanceglancesaround,andthoughhe’sbeenhonestandrecognizeshisprivilege,heseemstonotseeanythingunusualinhischildhoodhome.“Tome,thisisnormal.Neverknewanythingdifferent.Justhome,sweethome.”
“Remindmetosmackyoulaterforthat,”Itease.Thewayhegrewupisn’thisfault,it’sjustafactoflife,butthatdoesn’tmeanIcan’tgivehimalittlegood-naturedhellforit.Especiallywhenitbreaksthetension.
“Whateverit’sfor,it’sdeserved,”Kaylainterjectsasshecomesfromasidedoorway,onlyhearingthelastbitofmyconversationwithChanceandinstantlyonmyside.
Shelooksstunning—blondehair,blueeyes,perfect,lightlytannedskin,andwearingadressthatIsuspectiscustom.Ifshewasn’tsodamnedsweet,I’dhateheroutofjealousy,butshe’skindascanbe.Bitch…she’sgivingmegirlcrushvibes,hard.
AndIrespectherbrains…alot.
“Agreed,”ItellKaylaassheleansintopressourcheekstogether.
Asshepullsaway,sheflashesaknowinggrin.“Icangreetyouproperlythistimesinceyoubothhaveclotheson.”
Grinningrightback,Ianswerwithalittlefauxcasualshrugofmyshoulders.“Would’vebeenmoreawkwardthanyouevenknowifyou’dtrieditlasttime.”
Hereyesflare,andshelooksintrigued,butshedoesn’taskquestions.“Everyone’salreadyinthediningroom.AuntViv’sfashionablylate.”Flatandmonotone,sheadds,“Shocker.”
Together,wewalkintothediningroom.I’meternallygratefultohaveChanceononesideandKaylaontheotherbecausewhenalleyesfocusonme,Iswearmykneesknock.
Everysetofeyes.There’sanoldman,anoldwoman,whoIassumeareChance’sgrandfatherandgrandmother,andnexttotheoldmanisCharlesHarrington.He’salionofaman,broad-chestedandjuststartingtogosilver-maned.HandsomenessrunsintheHarringtonfamilygenes,that’sforsure.
“Samantha?”Mrs.Harringtonsays,hereyeswideandjumpingfromChancetoKaylatoLunabeforereturningtome.“Whatalovelysurprise!”shesays,hermannerskickingin.
Ihaven’tseenhersinceLunaandCarter’slastwedding—longstory—butshestandstogreetmewarmly.“Hello,Mrs.Harrington,”Ireplyasshewrapsmeinapolite,friendlyhug.“It’snicetoseeyouagain.”
“Hushthatformalnonsense.YouknowyoucancallmeMiranda.”Sheswishesherhandwiththeorder,asifshehasnoideawhyanyonewouldbehaveuppityandontheirbestbehavioraroundher.“Ididn’trealizeyouwerecomingtonight.LetmegetyouachairbyLuna.”
SheturnstoCole,who’ssittingnexttoLuna,instantlyshufflingchairsinhermind.
“Uhm,Mom,”Chancesays,“Samantha’shere…withme.”
Ithoughteveryonewaslookingatmebefore,nowthey’relookingatme.Icanalmostfeelthemtakingmymeasureinanentirelynewway.
“Letthegamesbegin!”Kaylaannouncesinalow,amusedvoice,headingtowhatmustbeherseat.
“Youcanstillsitbyme,”Lunarushestosay,nearlybeggingmetonotfreakoutthewayshesaidshedidthefirsttimeshecametoaHarringtondinner.
Atthesametime,Carter’sgivingChanceahardtime,chucklingasheoffers,“Thoughtsurprisedatesatfamilydinnersweremything.”
“Wasyourthing,”Lunacorrects.“Weallknowthenextsurprisedateyouhavewillbeyourlast.”
Everyonelaughs,andCartershrugs,knowingshe’sright.I’mproudofher.Mybestie’scomealongwayinspeakinghermind,andhermarriageishappierforit.
“Cansomeonepleasetellmewhatthehell’sgoingon?”theoldermansays,obviouslyaccustomedtobeingthemaninpowerineveryroomhestepsinto.“Younglady,I’mCharlesHarrington,Senior,andyouare…?”hetrailsoff,promptingformetofillinananswer.
“GrandpaChuck,thisisSamanthaRedding,”Chancesays.“Mydate.”
Talkaboutajust-the-facts,bare-bonedanswer,butgivenwhatChancequicklytoldmeofhisgrandfatherandthevibehegivesoff,I’mnotsurprised.Until…
SeniorleansovertoJunior,andnotbotheringtolowerhisvoiceatall,asks,“Dowelikeherorissheagolddiggeraftermygrandson?Shelooksalittlecheap.”
“Chuck!”theoldwomanathissideadmonisheswithabackhandtohisbicep.“Youcan’tgoaroundsayingstufflikethatwherepeoplecanhearyou.It’simpolite.”
Inoticeshedoesn’ttellhimthathecan’tsayit,onlythatitshouldn’tbeinpublic.
“Beth,IcansaywhateverIwant.It’soneoftheprivilegesofbeingme,”hearguesback.
Igetthefeelingthisistheirnorm—hesayssomethingoutrageous,shecallshimonit,hedismissesher,andlather,rinse,repeatlikecheapshampoo.
WithChuckandBethinvolved,it’slikeeveryoneisholdingtheirbreath,evenChance,asit’sdecidedwhetherornotI’llbeacceptedatthedinnertable.
Fuckthat.
“Ican’tspeakforwhetherMr.Harringtonlikesme,butIcanassureyou,I’mnotagolddigger.IwouldratherChancebebrokeasajokethanhavetodealwithyourcrustyjudgment.”ThoughIcanonlyseetothetopofthetable,Ilookhimupanddown,asifhe’stheonewhoshouldbeworried,andthenholdhisgazeunflinchingly.
Amomentofuttersilenceandstillnessstretches.IcantellthatnoonespeakstooldChuckielikethat,butI’mnotgoingtobowdowntohimbecausehe’sricherthanBezos.I’mimpressedbypeoplebecausethey’rekindandcareforothers,aresmartandgenerous,andthingslikethat.EverythingaboutChuckmightaswellscreamhe’smoreaboutmoneythancharacter.
Finally,hegrumbles,“You’llhavetosignapre-nup.”
It’snotapproval,butit’stakenassuch,everyonereleasingtheirheldbreath.
“Notgettingmarried,sonotaproblem,”Iquipback,takingthewinbecauseChanceissqueezingmyhandandmygoalinbeinghereistosupporthim.
Andmaybecausealittleshake-uptothiswholesituationwherehefeelslikehe’snotenoughforhisparents.Well,hisdad.
Becausethat’spurebullshit.
Colehopsupeasilynow,makingroomformeandChancenexttoLuna,andflashesmeanimpressedsmile.HewhisperssomethingtoChance,andthoughIdon’thearitclearly,itkindasoundslike‘cojones’,butIcan’tbesure.
HemakeshiswaytoKayla,sittingnexttoher.
ThoughalltheHarringtonshavethatCaliforniabeachbeautylook,ColeandKaylaarecopy/pastefraternaltwinversionsofoneanother—downtothesamenaturalhighlightsintheirhairandtheobservantsparkintheireyes.Cole’swearingblackslacksandabrightblueshirt,butthoughhe’sdressedthepart,there’ssomethingalittlerougherabouthimthantheotherbrothers.Ican’tputmyfingeronit,butheseemsalittlemorephysicalthancerebrallikeCarterandChance,likehe’dbemorelikelytopickyouupinafarmer’scarrythangetintoaverbaldebateoverthreadcountminimumsforsheets.
IsitdownasChancepullsoutmychair,andbeneaththetable,Lunapatsmythighinsupport,butthenshepinchesme,somaybeabitwarninglytoo.
MirandasitsbackdownatCharles’sside,andIrealizethathe’ssaidnothing.Ikindatookawayhisopportunitywithmylittlespeech.Politely,Isay,“Goodtoseeyouagain,Mr.Harrington.”
Hiseyesnarrow,andhepicksupthesmallglassofbrownliquidinfrontofhim.Heliftsitthetiniestbitinsomesortofsaluteandthensips,stillnotsayingaword.
Yeah,Iprobablypissedhimallthewayoff,buthe’snotmyconcern.Chanceis.
AndmaybeIwanttoshowChancethathisfamilyisn’tallthat,sohedoesn’tneedtobescaredofangeringthemor,morelikely,disappointingthem.They’rehumans,flawsandall,too.
Echoinghisfather’slead,Camerontakesadrinkfromhisglass,butratherthanasip,hetossesbothfingersbackinonego.Idon’tknowCameronotherthanthroughGrace’sstories,andtohearhertellit,he’salwaysbusywithwork,buthecallsher‘beautifullikehermother’.I’mnotsurewhathappenedtohermom,onlythatshepassedawaywhenGracewaslittle,andIwonderifCameronisstilldealingwithhisfeelingsaboutthat.
I’dlovetogivehimarecommendationforagriefcounselorwhocouldhelp,buthe’sprobablyseenonealreadyorisn’treadytofacethatlossyet.Andprofessionally,it’snotreallymyplace.Still,myheartbreaksforhimalittle.Nobodydeservesthatkindofpain.
“IsGraciehere?”IaskCameron.
Heshrugsbutstillanswers,“She’swithasitter.She’llbeheresoon.”
“Isawherattheparktheotherday.She’sgrowingupsofast!IthinksheandmysisterhadfunwithPeanutButter,”Isay,tryingtomakeconversationwithhim.
“Yeah.”
Okay,soeitherhe’snotaconversationalistorhedoesn’twanttotalkwithme.
“Ididn’tknowyouhaveasister,”Mirandainterjects,coveringforCameron.
Inodaffirmatively.“Yeah,Olivia’ssixteen,withalltheaccompanyingdrama.Mymom’sbasicallygoingforsainthoodwiththatone.”Ismilelightlyasifteengirlsanddramaareanabsolutegiven.
MirandawinksatKayla.“Well,Iwouldn’tknow.Mydaughterwas,andis,anabsoluteangel.”EveryonehereknowsthatKaylaisnosuchthing.Chancedescribeshissisteras‘abombinprettypackaging’,andIimaginethat’sadevelopedtraittomakeCharlesproudofherconsideringshe’snotoneofhisfavoredsons.
“How’dyoutwomeet?”Bethasks.“DidIcatchthatyouandLunaarefriends?”
IlooktoChance,lettinghimtakethisone.Hecanshareasmuchoraslittleashewantsaboutus,thoughIdon’texpecthimtosaywe’rehookingupandI’monlyherebecauseKaylainvitedme.
“Theyare,”Chancestarts,“butsomehow,I’dnevermetSamanthathroughLunasinceImissedthe‘wedding’.”Hesaysitwithairquotesbecausetechnically,itwasLunaandCarter’svowrenewalthathemissed.Theirweddingwasteeny-tinyanddrama-filled.“ButSamanthaandIranintoeachotheronedayata,uh…conference,andwehititoff.”
Igrin,tryingtoswallowthegiggleatourdicks-outmeetingbeingcalledaconference,andoh,didwe‘hititoff’inaspectacularshowoffireworksandorgasms.Chanceplacesaheavyhandonmythigh,readingmymind.
“She’shelpingattheGentlemen’sClubnowtoo,offeringclassesforourmembers.IthinkEvanandIhavehertalkedintobeingaguestonourpodcastaswell.”Hesoundsproud—ofhimself,hisbusiness,andme.
“Oh,that’slovely.Whatsortofclasses?”
Beth’sseeminglyinnocuousfollow-upleadsrightintodangerousterritory,andIcanfeelChance’sstressashetriestofigureoutthebestwaytodescribewhatI’mbringingtotheclubtable.
ButI’vedonethisbefore.Myscopeofpracticeisalwaysashockforpeople,andI’velearnedthatbluntprofessionalismisbesttodissuadeanylewdjokesortactlesscommentary.
Takingover,Isay,“I’mfinishingmygraduatestudiesinpsychology,withafocusonintimaterelationships.I’mhelpingtheclubmembersreshapeexpectationsbornofdecadesofindoctrinationtofindmoreintentionalmentalspace,whichwillallowthemtobegoodpartnersintheirromanticrelationships.”
BethblinksandthenlooksatChuck.“Didyoucatchthat?”Hedoesn’tmovehisheadintheslightest,whichItaketobeano.Turningbacktome,Bethsays,“TellittomelikeI’mstupid.”
She’snosuchthing.Ifanything,I’dbetshe’sthemostemotionallyintelligentpersonatthistable,havinggrownupinatimeof‘sitstillandlookpretty’butsomehowmanagingtobecomeapowerhouseinherownhome.Oh,Chuck’stheboss,butIsuspectit’sbecauseBethletshimbe.Orthinkthatheis.She’sawilyone.
SoIdowhatsheasksandbreakitdowntoessentials.“I’masextherapist,focusingonmentalwellnessandphysicalsatisfaction.”
“Oh,”shesays,hereyesblank.“Oh!”shesuddenlyexclaims,havingrealizedwhatIsaid.
Winkingather,Iquip,“Exactly.”
IleaveouttheBedroomHeavengig,decidingI’vealreadypusheddinnerconversationfarenough.
ButCharlessputters,“Youdowhatnow?Atmyson’sclub?Oh,Idon’tthinkso.Chance.”
CharleslookstoChanceasthoughhisdisagreementwillhaveinstantsway,likeChancewilljumpawayfrommeinhorrorandhiss,“Backaway,demonspawn.Andstayawayfrommyclub.”
Justbecausehisdaddysaidso.
Ofcourse,that’snotgoingtohappen.
Chanceletsgoofmyhandbeneaththetabletopointedlylayhisarmonthebackofmychair,visiblyclaimingmetohisfather.Withadeadlysmileonhisface,Chancetellshisfather,“ThechangeinourmemberssinceSamanthabeganclassesismeasurable.She’sworkedwondersonmymentalhealthtoo,helpingfindmy…what’dyoucallit?”
Whenhelooksatmeexpectantly,therearesomanythingsIwanttosay,prostatebeingatthetopofthelistbecauseIknowit’llgooverlikeafartinchurch.Butgoingeasy,Iad-lib,“Yourgive-a-shitter?”
Hiseyessparklewithhumor,enjoyingthis.“Right,she’shelpedmefindmygive-a-shitterandreprioritizewhat’simportanttome.Namely,anytypeoffamilyapproval.”
IfIcouldjumpupinmychairandcheerforChance,Iwould.Hell,Iwanttoclimbuponthetable,knocktheplacesettingsandChinaoutofmyway,puntacandlestick,pointafingeratCharles,andshout,“Stickthatupyourass!Andmaybeifyoudidsticksomethingupthereeveryonceinawhile,youwouldn’tbesuchacold-heartedjerktoyourkids!”
ButIdon’t.One,itwouldn’tberighttorejoiceinCharlesbeingputinhisplace,especiallywhenhe’snotgoingtolearnanythingfromit.Andtwo,becauseit’snotaboutCharles.It’saboutChance.SoIsimplyleanintohimencouragingly.
I’msoproudofhim.Standinguptoaparentwho’sbeendoingyouwrongishard.He’sgonethroughrebellion,tryingtoprovehimself,workingtoearnfavor,andnow,tofinallynotneedinganyofitfromCharlesbecausehe’sproudofhimself.
“Shemightbeamiracleworker,”ColewhisperstoKayla,whonodslike‘Iknow!’
CharleslooksfromChancetothepeoplesurroundinghispositionattheheadofthetable,feelingthetidesturnagainsthim,andI’mafraidhe’sgoingtosaysomethinghurtful.Ifit’stome,Icantakeit.Ifit’stoChance,Lunamighthavetoholdmebackorusesomeofherfundingtobailmeoutofjail.Butit’sMirandawhoanswers,“Aslongasyou’rehappy,honey.That’sallwecareabout.”
MirandaplacesherhandoverCharles’sandwiththebaresttouchcallshimoff,tellinghimtoshutupandleaveherbabiesalone.
BethandMirandabothhavesomepowerfulmojo.
“Iam,”Chancetellshismother,buthiseyesarelockedonCharlesinabattleofwills.
Slowly,conversationstartsupagain,everyonechoosingwiselytoavoidtheclub,Chance,andmeastopics.
We’remid-chatterwhenthedoorstothediningroomonceagainopenandawomanenters.She’stall,blonde,andstatuesqueinafitteddressthatshowsshe’sstillgotatop-notchfigureatherage,whichI’destimatetobeinherlatefifties?Thoughherfacelooksalittletight,somaybesixties?
“Notwaitingontheguestofhonor?”sheaccuses,andthoughshesmiles,itlooksfakerthantheorangeglowfromdollar-storeself-tanner.
ThismustbeAuntVivian.
Athersideisayoungerman,whoseelbowshe’sholding.He’soversixfeettall,blond,andmuscledinthatgymwaythatsaysheneveractuallyphysicallyworks.Butonanotherlevel,helookslikehecouldbeanotherHarringtonbrother.
Behindthem,ayoungwomanwithstrangelyhighcheekbonesandlarge,otherworldlyeyesstandsinasimple,butexpensivelooking,blackdress.She’sbeautifultoo,thoughnotintheCaliforniawinecountrycommercialwaytherestoftheHarringtonsare.
Chancewhispersintomyear,“CousinDevinandhisgirlfriend,Bridgette.”
Okay,makessense.TheblondguyisaHarrington,justnotabrother.
ButwhyisVivianonDevin’selbowinsteadofBridgette?Doessheneedhelpofsomesort?Chancedidn’tmentionthat.Ormaybeit’sthatVivianisthe‘rankingofficial’intheirfamilysoshegetstheescort,leavingBridgettetheoddwomanout?
That’sprobablyit.Andblech
“Ofcourseweare!”BethtellsVivian,notputtingupwithheraccusationofbadhostingforaminute.She’sclearlyusedtothissortofnonsense.“Butwhenyou’relate,youcan’texpecteveryonetositaroundtwiddlingtheirthumbs,waitingfortheireveningtostartuntilyoudeigntomakeanappearance.”
Vivian’slipslift,thoughIwouldn’tcallitasmile,andnothingelseonherfacemovesabit.Yup,herfacehasseenitsfairshareofscalpelsandBotox.
Shescansthetable,notforattendeesforthisdinnerpartybutforplacement.Seeingtheonlyemptychairsareonthesideofthetable,shesniffsfaintly,asifthat’ssomesortofrebuff
Ontheotherhand,Devinseemsproudandcarrieshimselfinawaytobebiggerthanheis,comingingregariouslyasifwe’reallheretoseehim.AshepassesbyCole,heslapshimonthebackheartilylikethey’rebestpals,butit’sabittoohard,andIcanseeColebitebackwords.
WithCameron,though,hedoesn’ttakethechance,mainlybecauseCamerongiveshimalookthatwouldfreezethealcoholinhisrefilledglass.Cameron’swintrysmilesaysveryclearlytouchmeandyouloseyourfuckinghand
DevinbypassesCameron,ignoresKayla,whichisadickmove,andsitsdownwithhisgirlfriend.Onceeveryone’sseated,DevinbetweenVivandBridgette,shespeaksupagain.“Thankyousomuchforcoming—”
Vivian’smakingitsoundlikeshe’sthehost,andI’mmorethanalittlepleasedwhenherbigintroductionspeech—oneI’msuresheworkedonbeforetonight—isinterruptedbyGracierunningin.
“Daddy!”sheshouts,“LookwhatIgot!”
She’sholdingupherhand,fingersspreadwide,toshowoffapinkbaubleringonherindexfinger.
Tohiscredit,Cameron’slipsliftintothefirsttruesmileI’veseenonhimandhisshouldersdropbyinchesashisdaughterclimbsintohislapandgetsrightupinhisface.“That’sbeautiful,Gracie.Almostasbeautifulasyou.”Hetapshernose,andshesmileshappilyinresponsetohiscompliment.“Doyouwanttohavedinnerwithusorhanginthelivingroom?”
Theawarenessthatthistypeoffancydinnerpartyisprobablyboringtoakidisapleasantsurprise.IguessIthoughtCameronwouldbeall‘sitdownandbequiet,thegrown-upsaretalking’withGrace,butheseemsdownrightwrappedaroundhisdaughter’sfinger.
“CanIhavedinosaurnuggiesinhere?”sheasks,droppingherchinandbattingherlashes.
“Ofcourse,youcan,”MirandaanswersforCameron.
“Ooh,canIhaveonetoo?”Lunaasks,jokingwiththelittlegirl.
“Yum,metoo!”Isay,playingalong.Hell,dinonuggiessoundbetterthanthatcrapMacrosinetriedtopawnoffonChanceandme.AndgiventhefancinessoftheHarringtonhome,I’mafraidImightneedaMcDonald’sstoponthewayhomeagain
ButmycommenttriggersallhelltobreaklooseasGracerealizesI’mhere.“SAMANTHA!”Graceshoutsatonehundredandtwentydecibelsbeforeimmediatelydivingunderthetabletogettomefaster.
Weallleanback,lookingdowntoseeGraciecrawlingacrosstherugrighttowardme.“Hey,uh,Grace…youcould’ajustwalkedaroundthetable,youknow?”Isay,grinningasshepopsupbesidemeandwrapsherarmsaroundmynecktightly.
“Tooslowandyouneedtoseemyring,”shestatesasthoughtheshortcutmakesperfectsensenowthatshe’sexplainedherreasoning.
Sheholdsitupformyinspection,andIhumthoughtfully.“Pinkdiamond?Verypretty.”
“Pinksapphire,”shecorrectseventhoughtheringisobviouslycostumeandnotarealstone.Eventhemetaloftheringitselfshinesabittoobrightly,clearlycheapplatingonanevencheaperbasemetal.
“Ithoughtsapphireswereblue,”Lunasays.
Knowingmoreabouteverythingthanmostadults,Gracieeducatesher.“Sapphirescanbelotsofcolors,dependingonthemineralswheretheygrow.”
Wenodalongwithher,notsureifshe’stellingthetruthormakingshituponthefly.Itdoesn’tmattereitherway.Noonewillcallheronit.
“AsIwassaying—”Viviansays,tryingagaintogettoherwelcomespeech.
Thistime,theswingingdoortothekitchenopensandtwostaffwalkoutwithplatesoffoodintheirhands.
Guessthisdinnerpartyisfinallygettingstarted…officially.CHAPTER22CHANCE
I’mreadytoleave.
We’rebarelyintooursaladcourseandI’mfightingtostayinmyseatwhenallIwanttodoisstand,takeSamantha’shand,andwalkrightoutthefrontdoor.
ButIdon’t.
Idon’tcareasmuchaboutrulesandexpectationsasIoncedid,butleavingmid-dinnerwouldberude.Andsecretly,IkindawantSamanthatoseewhatshe’sgettingherselfinto.BecauseIintendforhertobeatmysideforeveryfamilydinnerfromhereonout,especiallyaftershesmoothlyputmygrandfatherinhisplace,charmedmygrandmother,andhadmybackwhenIstooduptomyfather.
IfonlyAuntVivianweren’there,orwouldshutthehellup,it’dbeperfect.
She’sgoingaroundthetable,askingfortheupdateonmysiblingswithasneering,condescendingfrownonherface.She’slookingforbitsofinformation,nuggetsshecanturnnotintogold,butshadeshecanthrowbackatus.
Iswear,Cameroncouldsaythathe’sbeingconsideredfortheNobelPeacePrizeandshe’dbitchabouthowit’sapoliticalnightmarenotnearlyworththegoldit’smintedfrom.Asitis,apparently,he’sstill‘ridingondaddy’scoattails’,accordingtoher.
“Whataboutyou,Cole?”AuntVivasks,zeroinginonhernext‘victim’.“I’velosttrackalittlebit.Whatisityou’redoing?”Ratherthansoundinglikeaforgetfulolderwoman,shemanagestomakeitsoundlikewhatCole’sdoingissoutterlyforgettablethatshedidn’tbothertoremember.
“I’vegotacoupleofironsinthefire,”Coleanswersevasively.
Still,IwishhewouldanswerbecauseIthinkwe’reallcuriousabouthim.Hekeepseverythingsecretive,andIhonestlycan’ttellyouwhatmybrotherdoes,whichisridiculous.ForallIknow,hecouldbeadaytraderorahitman,andIthinkhegetsoffonwithholdingthatinformationfromus.Idon’tthinkKaylaevenknows,andifanyone’srunabackgroundcheckontheirownfamily,it’sKayla.
“So,blacksmithing?”AuntVivianretortscoolly,usingCole’sansweragainsthim.“Charming.Yourcoattailsareratherbroad,Charles.”
SheoffersanicyglaretoDad,measuringhisreactiontohertrustfundcomment,butDadsimplystaresbackather,blank-facedanduncaring.He’sdealtwithharshercriticsthanhiswhinyoldersister,andapparentlydoesn’tfeeltheneedtoexplaintoherthatnoneofushavetrustfunds.College,yes.Trust,no.
“I’mridingonDad’scoattailstoo,AuntViv,”Kaylavolunteers,holdingahandupandgrinning.“BlueLakeAssetGrouphasbeensogoodtome,welcomingmewithopenarms,givingmeahomeawayfromhomewhereIcanworkhardandsucceed,”shesayswistfully,almostsoundinglikeapageantgirl,whichsheisn’t.
Ifshementionsworldpeace,puppies,orRihanna,I’mgoingtoloseitandlaughoutloud.
Totheuninitiated,it’dseemlikeKayla’smakinglightofherwork,butweknowexactlywhatshe’sdoing—rubbingAuntViv’snoseinthefactthatwhileshewasneverallowedtobeapartofthefamilycompany,otherwomenare.GrandpaChuckmight’vebeenastaunchmisogynistinhisday,butthatcanbeovercome…bytherightwoman,someonemadeofsturdierstuffthanViviancouldeverdreamof.
Hell,AuntVivian’sownmotherdiditandwasaprimerolemodelforher,ifshe’dbotheredtoopenhereyesandlook.
“Hmmph,IwasjustcuriouswhatyouallhavebeenuptobecauseDevin’sbeendoingsomeamazingthingsrecently.Haven’tyou,Devin?”
Shestartsonaseriesof‘fishingtales’that,iftheywereeventenpercenttrue,wouldmakeDevintherichest,handsomest,mostpopularmanontheplanet,aswellasMr.Universe,thechampionoftheSuperBowl,andpossiblythenextPopeand/orPresidentifhewants.
Throughoursoupcourse,shetalksabouthisbusinessacumen.Throughourentrees,it’shisphysicalprowess.Andintoasorbetpalatecleanse,it’showluckyBridgetteistohaveamanlikeDevinatherside.
I’musedtoAuntVivianandheranything-but-humblebrags,butit’sstillabitmuch,evenforme.Lookingaroundthetable,IcanseethatCarterandLunahavetunedoutandarehavingasilentconversationwiththeireyes,ColelooksreadytopummelDevinunprovoked,andCameronisplaying‘sticks’withGracie,afingertappinggamethatusuallykeepsherdistractedandentertained.MomandDadhaveonthepolite,blandfacesI’veseenhundredsoftimesatfundraisersandeventsovertheyears,andIknowthatMomissinginginherhead,goingthroughhermentallibraryofpopclassics.GrandpaandGrandmaaretheonlyoneslistening,buttheboastsareabouttheirgrandchildsoitseemswarranted.
“AndmyDevvy-poo,mywittelbabygoespottyallbyhimselfnow,”IwhisperinSamantha’searasVivtalksaboutsomesortofcleanwaterinitiativeDevin’s‘workingwith’,whichweallknowiscodefor‘sendsmoneytoandschmoozedatacocktailpartyfor’.
Itrynottoburstoutlaughing,butasnortstillleavesmythroat,andforthefirsttime,AuntVivdeignstopayattentiontome.It’sfunny,butI’veactuallyappreciatedherhystericalgloatingbecauseit’sliterallytakenallattentionoffmeandSamantha.Aftertonight,noonewillrememberthatIshowedupwithasurprisedatewhosaidoutrageousthingstoGrandpaChuck.Allwe’llrememberisAuntViviandroningonandonaboutDevin.
“I’msorry,Ididn’tmeantointerrupt,”Iapologizeautomatically.
Placated,AuntVivstartsagainwhensuddenly,there’sathunderousROARfromoutside.
Shecan’tcatchabreak!Ithinktomyself,laughingatthecontinuedinterruptionsshe’sbeen‘victim’to.
Allattentionturnstothewindowsbehindtheheadofthetableasabrightlightstabsthroughthedarknessandthedistinctivesoundofaridiculouslyloud,barelymuffledmotorcyclecomesthroughfromoutside.
“UncleKyle!”Gracieyellsasamotorcyclecomestearingontothesidelawnoftheestate.Themotion-activatedlightskickontoshowusthedriverplantingthefrontwheelandcrankingaharddonut,sendingchunksofgrassflyinginalargecirclebeforeheparks.
Gardener’sgonnabepissedatthatone.
Aminutelater,KylecomesstridingthroughtheFrenchdoorsthatGraceunlockedforhim,likeit’stotallynormaltoshowupforafamilydinnerthroughthesidedoorindirtyjeans,aslightlyrippedT-shirt,aleatherjacket,andboots.
“‘Hey,folks,”Kylesaysinwayofgreeting,pausingbytheyettobeslicedbirthdaycaketozigzag-slideafingerthroughtheicingontop,makingsuretocontaminateasmuchaspossible.Slippingthelargegloboficingintohismouth,hesucksathisfingerbeforesighing,“Mmm,damn,Grandma.Howdoyoudoit?Alwayskillingitwiththefood.It’stheonlyreasonIcametonight.”
HewinksGrandma’sway,hisblueeyessimilartotherestofthefamily’sbuthisdarklystubbledcheeksanddarkhairmakinghimanobviousoutlier.
Grandpaglares,andGrandmachucklesathiswaywardanticsasthoughthey’recharming.“Youknowthat’smysecret,Kyle-baby.”
Dadisn’tamused,though.“Ithoughtyouweren’tcoming?”
“Wasn’tgoingto,”KylesayswithashrugashepicksupGracieone-handedandslingsheronhishiplikeababy,thoughherlegsdangledownwellbelowhisknees.“EvenwhenMomtriedtellingmeIhadto.ButGrandmaaskedmetostopby,andyouknowIcan’ttellherno.Justrunningalittlelate.Stacey’smomsayssorry.”
Iwashalfbelievinghimuntilthatlastbit.Kyleclearlymeanttoshowup,butonlyinawaythat’dmakethebiggestsplash.HelivestopissoffDad,andbonuspointsifitembarrasseshimtoo.
I’vealwaysconsidereditchildish,stilldomostly,butIcanseehowDad’sexpectationsofallofushaveshapedourbehaviorstowardhim,ifnottowardthefamilyasawhole.DadnevergaveKyleattention,sonaturally,Kyledidmoreandmoreoutrageousthingsinanattempttogetsome,negativeorpositive.Butatsomepoint,KyleneedstoquitfuckingaroundandbehisownmandespiteDad.
“ThisiswhathedoestomakeDadmadifhe’saskedtodosomethinghedoesn’twantto,”IquietlyexplaintoSamantha.“Should’veseenChristmas.”Whenshelooksatmequestioningly,Icovermymouthwithmyhandandwhisperdramatically,“Oh,I’veseensomeshitbetweenthetwoofthem.Yourprofessorscoulddoanentireseriesonhowmesseduptheyare.Thehorror…thehorror.”
Samanthasmirksatmyquote.“ApocalypseNow?Really?”
“Youknow,Kyle,it’smybirthday,andthatwasquiterude,”AuntVivsaysprimlybeforeIcanreply.“IwasjusttellingeveryoneaboutDevin’s—”Shegesturestoherson,tryingtogetattentionbacktohergoldenchild.
“Latestandgreatest?I’llbet,”Kyleinterjectswithanaudibleeyerolleventhoughhisblueeyesstaylockedonhislatesttarget—Devin.Smirkingandthrowinghisvoicehighandanimatedlikehe’stalkingtoatoddler,Kylesays,“Yeah,lilbuddy,how’syourfantasyfootballleaguegoing?Doyouthinkyou’regonnawintheSuperbowl?GooooDevinators!”
“Wha—why,Inever!”AuntVivexclaims.
“Kyle!”Dadshouts,losinghiscool.“SitdownandbehaveorI’llhavetoaskyoutoleave.”
He’sattemptingtodrawalineinthesand,butKyle’salwayshappytostomprightoverthosesoIdon’tknowwhyDadtries.AsmuchasKyleneedstogethisshittogether,DadneedstoquittryingtoshoveKyleintoaboxthathe’sneverbeenremotelyclosetofittinginto.
KylesmileswidelyatDad,maliciouscomplianceinhiseyes.“Surething.”HestrutsovertoGrace’schairandplopsdownroughly.IfGraciewasn’tinhislap,he’dprobablythrowhisbootsuponthetabletoneedleDadevenmore.“What’rewetalkingabout?”
“Hmph,well,asIwassayingbeforeIwassorudelyinterrupted,Devinhassomethingimportant—”
“Oh,shit,youreallywerestillharpingonhim?IthoughtI’dtimedittomissallthat.Pity,”Kylesays,interruptingoncemore.Reachingout,hesnagsadinonuggetfromGracie’splate.“Openup,Graciesaurus.”
“Nexttime,I’lltextyouwhenthecoast’sclear,”Coleoffersstraight-faced.KyleplopsthenuggetinGracie’smouthandholdsupafist.Thoughthey’refarawayatthetable,Coleholdsoneuptoo,andtheyair-fistbump.
AstaffmembersetsaplateofporkroastinfrontofKyle,andhepicksupGrace’sunusedfork.“Goodfood,goodmeat,goodGod,let’seat.”Hestabsthebiggestsliceofroastandliftsitlikealegoflamb,takingahugebiteoutofitwhilelettingthereststayonthetines.Hesitsback,chewingthoughtfully,andforsomereason,weallwatchinsilence.
Idon’tknowhowhedoesit.Ithinkmostlyhejustshockseveryonetothepointtheydon’targuewithwhateverstupidstunthe’spulling.He’slikeawalking,talking,livingcarcrashyoucan’tturnawayfrom.
Glancingaroundthetable,hepausesonSamantha,andIcanfeelmyhacklesrising.HecanbetheBlackSheepofthefamilyifhechooses,buthe’snotgoingtofuckwithSamantha.
Pointingatherwithhismeat-ladenfork,hesays,“Iknowyou.”It’sastatement,buthiseyesarequestioning,tryingtoplaceher.
Gracieanswersbeforeanyoneelse.“UncleKyle,that’sSamantha.Luna’sfriend.Well,nowIthinkshe’sUncleChance’sfriendtoo.”ThelastpartiswhisperedinthevicinityofKyle’sear,butGracehaszeroconceptofvolumecontrolsoweallhearit.
Kyle’seyespoptomeandthenbacktoSamantha,tryingtofitthepuzzlepiecestogether.
“You’rewithhim?”KyleasksSamantha.
“Yes,butdon’tworry,asI’vealreadyexplainedtoeveryoneelse…I’mnotagolddigger.I’monlyinitforthedick,”Samanthasaysevenly,asifsayingit’sabeautifulnightoutside.
Ishould’veknownnottoworryabouther.IfanyonecandealwithKyle,it’dbeher.
“What?”AuntViviansputters.
“Oh,yeah,youweren’thereforthatpart.Sorry.”Samanthasmiles,sereneascanbe,assheapologizestoVivian,who’sstillsputteringatthecrudecomment.
Kayla,apparentlytryingtosmooththingsover,leansoverandwhisperssomethinginKyle’sear.Fromthelookonherface,I’mguessingshe’stryingtoplaypeacemaker,butwhoknows?
Suddenly,Devinstandsup,pushinghischairbacktogivehimselfroombetweenhismotherandgirlfriend.“Togetthingsbackonapositivenote,I’dliketosaysomething.IknowMomdoesn’taskformuch,butIthoughtthiswasthebestbirthdaygiftIcouldgiveher.Andthemostfitting.”
Devingetsdownononekneeand,asseveralgaspsfilltheroom,reachesintohisjacketpockettopulloutaring
Ihaveamomentofcompleteconfusion.Ringplusdownonhiskneeshouldequalaproposal.ButDevinsaidthisisagiftforhismom.
Oh,fuck,isheproposingtohismother?!
Ewwwwwwww.IthinkIjustthrewupinmymouthalittle.
Imeanwe’vealwaysjokedthatAuntVivandDevinareoddlyclose,butIthoughtitwasmoreinababyingsortofway,notanOedipuscomplexway.
Thankfully—isthatreallytheminimumtobegratefulfor—heturnstoBridgette.
“Baby,youmakemesohappyandIcan’twaitforyoutobepartofourfamily.Willyoumarryme?”
BeforeBridgetteanswers,AuntVivhasherhandsonDevin’sshoulders,leaninginbesidehimandgrinningmaniacally.“Yes!Sayyes,andjoinus!”
Us?IsshetalkingaboutinmatrimonyorinaStepfordWife,resistance-is-futileway?BecausegivenVivian’swildeyes,I’mnotsure.
Bridgette,whoI’veonlymetacoupleoftimesbutseemsremarkablynormaltobetiedupwithDevin,nodshappily,onlyhavingeyesforhim.ShereachesforDevin,wrappingherarmsaroundhisneckforahug,butshevirtuallyhastoriphimfromVivian’sgrasp.
Bridgettestartstosobintotheirhug,mumblingsomethingthatsoundslike,“ItoldyouIwantedyoutoproposewhenitwasjustthetwoofus.”
ButAuntVivianwailsdramatically,drowningoutanythingBridgettemightbesayinganddrawingtheattentionbacktowhereitbelongs—onher.Alwaysandonly,onher.
“Mybaby’sgettingmarried!Iknowjusttheplaceandseason—MykonosinSeptember!It’llbesostunning.Oh,andwe’llhavetogetanappointmentatJacob’s,ofcourse.He’ssimplythebestatbespokesuits.Andthefood?We’llhavetodecideonwhichcheftohire.”
AuntVivian’sloudramblingtellsmethatsheprobablyhasanotebookalreadypreppedandreadyforDevin’snuptials.
Everyoneelse’sreactionsaremoreappropriate—clappingandcheersandcongratulationscomingfromaroundthetable.
AsBridgetteandDevinseparateandheslipstheringontoherfinger,theyseemtrulyhappy.Exceptfortheharpythat’sflittingabout,botheringthem
“Letmesee!ItoldDevintogetyouaprincesscutringsowe’dmatch.”AuntVivianholdsupherownhand,flashingherhugeengagement-wedding-anniversaryringcombo.WhensheseesBridgette’sring,whosesolitairediamondisvisiblefromhere,shesqueals,“Oh,it’ssocute!Greatjob,Devin!”
Withthat,shepullshersonintoahuge,tighthug,exclaiming,“That’sthebestbirthdaygiftyoucould’vegottenme.Thankyou!”
Bridgetteissittingthere,shell-shockedandcompletelyexcludedfromwhatshouldbeacouple’smoment.
GrandpaChuckiswatchingwithraisedbrowsbutsaysnothing,GrandmaBethissmilingsweetly,andmywholefamilyisbitingtheirtonguestokeepfromlaughingoutloudatVivian’stheatrics.Notthatshe’dcarewhatanyofusthink,exactly,butsheisputtingonthisshowforus,Ithink.Otherwise,whywouldDevindothewholeproposalthingathismother’sbirthdaydinner,especiallyifBridgetteaskedhimforsomethingdifferent?
Sheaskedhimto.
Samanthaleansintomeandwhispersinmyear,“ForgetyourDadandKyle.IwanttodoanentirecasestudyonVivianandDevin.”Assheleansback,welockeyesandIcanseetheprofessionalhorrorinhers.“Wow!”shemouthsanimatedly.
She’sabsolutelyright.
Realizingshe’slostourattention,AuntViviansnaps,bothherliteralfingersandhertoneatSamantha,“I’msorry,I’veforgottenyourname.Whatwasitagain?Sarah?Noworries,pointis…you’llhaveyourdaytoo.Ifyoulearnhowtospeakwithouttheobscenities.”ShecrinkleshernoseindelayeddistasteatSamantha’searlieruseoftheworddick.“ButtodayisaboutDevin.Payattentiontowhatmatters.”
AuntVivian’sbeingintentionallyobstinate,tryingtoputSamanthafirmlybeneathherandstilloffendedbyhercommentthatshe’swithmeforsex,notmoney.
IfIallowedmyselftothinkaboutAuntVivianandsexinonesentenceformorethanasecond,I’dprobablycometotheconclusionthat,likeeverythingelseinherlife,Vivianusessexasatooltogetwhatshewants.She’sneverconsideredthatitmightbesomethingdoneforsimplepleasurebetweentwopeoplewithoutanulteriormotive.
Andthat’senoughofthatthoughtstream,becauseagain…AuntVivandsex.
Blech,andpassthebrainbleach!
ButAuntVivian’snevergonehead-to-headwithsomeonelikeSamantha,andI’mequalpartsterrifiedandexcitedaboutwhat’sabouttohappenbecausewhileVivianthinksshe’shadthefinalword,Samantha’spullingherthoughtstogether,preppingformaximumimpactandeffectiveness.
IthinkIhearKaylawhisper,“Watchthis.”
ToKyle?ToCole?Whoknows?ButIsuspectKaylarecognizesasister-in-kind,andseesthatSamanthaiswell-spoken,strong,andabouttolaydownaverbalbeatingthelikesofwhichAuntViviancan’tevenfathom.
“It’sSamantha,notthatyouaskedbeforelaunchingintoafifty-five-minutediatribe.Imustsay,I’mimpressedwithyourbreathcontrol,thoughIdoubtyouputittogooduse.”Sheshakesherheadinmocksadness,andInearlychokefromtryingnottolaughatwhatshe’simplying.“AndsomeofusarelookingformoreinlifethanaringandourDaddy’slove.Butexaggeratingaboutyourson,singinghispraisesinsucharomanticizedmanner,andputtingyourselfinthemiddleofwhatshouldbetheirmomentis,toputitbluntly…professionallyconcerning.”
“Chance!”Dadhisses,tellingmetogetmydateundercontrol…now,orpaytheprice.
Ileanforward,meetingDad’seyesboldly.“Well,Samanthaisaprofessional.She’dknow.Besides,we’veallsaidit.It’sweirdandgross.”
Dadtiltshishead,silentlyremindingmethatwe’renotsupposedtorepeatprivategossipinpublic,oreveninfrontoffamilywhenit’saboutotherfamilymembers.
“What?You’retalkingaboutme?AboutmyDevin?”AuntVivianwails,soundinghorriblywounded.“Daddy!”Shepouts,turningherattentiontoGrandpaChuck,andthoughshescrewsherfaceup,there’snotatearinsight.
Ifshecouldstompherfootlikeatoddler,Ithinkshewould.Asitis,sittingatthetable,shethrowshernapkintoherplateinavaguethreatofleaving.
“Hell,ifyou’restartingthewaterworksthisearly,youshould’vehadyourlittlebirthdaypar-tayatChuckE.Cheese.They’reusedtodealingwithtantrum-throwingkids,”Kylesuggests.“Probablyusedtohissyfitsfromadultstoo.Could’ajustthrownyouintheballpitorsomething.”
“ILOVEballpits!”Graceaddshelpfully.
“Vivian,Iwasn’tthebestfather,andit’soneofmyfewregretsinlife,butyou’vegottoadmit,thiswasabitmuch,”Grandpasayscarefully,takingcontroloftheroom.HoldinghandswithGrandmaBeth,Igetthefeelingthisisaconversationthey’vehadmanytimesovertheyears.
“Me?You’reblamingthisonme?”AuntVivianscreeches,standingupabruptly.“Ofcourseyouare.It’salwaysmyfault.I’mnotgoodenough,notsmartenough,notmaleenoughforyou,”shespitsout.“ThankGod,CharlieJuniorcamealongsoyou’dhaveatleastonekidtolove.”Shesendsanangryglareherbrother’swaybeforereturninghervitrioltoherfather.“Ithoughtmaybeyou’dhaveitinyourold,shriveledraisinofahearttoatleastloveyourgrandsontoosincehe’stheonlythingthatmatterstoyou—ason.”
“Youdon’twantmetolovehim.Youwantmetobankrollhim,andbydefaultyou,butIhaven’tgivenasinglecenttoanyofCharles’skids,oryoursisters’,”Grandpasaysevenly,“anditwouldn’tbefairtogiveDevinany.”
“Fair?Fair?Faaaiiir!”shebellows,butshe’srunoutofsteam.Havingspewedthevenomshe’sbeenholdingformostofherlifeandbeencalledonhertruegame,shehuffs,“Comeon,Devin.We’releaving.”
Devinhopsup,accustomedtofollowingMommy’sorders.Bridgetteisalittleslowerfromlackofpractice,butsherisestoo.AstheyfollowAuntVivianoutoftheroom,SamanthagetsupquicklyandrushesovertostopBridgette.
“Thismightnotbemyplacetosay,butifyouneedsomeonetotalkto,callmeatChance’sclub.Andfortheloveofallthingsholymatrimony,youhavetowatchILoveaMomma’sBoyonTV.Girl,you’relivingitinhigh-definitionanddon’tevenrecognizehowdeepyou’rein.Everyalarmisringing,butyou’renotsavingyourself.Please,I’vegotonewordforyou..RUN.”
HavingrealizedthatBridgettewasn’ttrottingalongafterhim,Devinpopshisheadbackintothediningroom.“Comeon,she’sgonnaleaveusifwedon’tgetoutthere.”
It’sobviouswherehisloyaltieslie,andBridgettelookstornforasplitsecondbutthenfollowsDevin.
Samanthasighstoherself,“DidwhatIcould.”Whensheturnsaround,hereyesjumpalloverthetable,andhavingbeenwatchinghertrytosaveBridgette,Ifollowhergaze.
Everyone’slookingather.
Sheclearsherthroat.“Yeah,well…Ithinkwedidalotofgoodworkheretonight.Gotalotofwhat’sbeenweighingusdownoutintotheopen,whichisalwaysuncomfortable.Butremember,uncomfortableiswheregrowthhappens,sothiswasprogress.”
Samantha’sdroppedintoherprofessionaltherapistvoiceasifthiswholedinnerdebaclewasnothingmorethanatherapysession.
Ishouldbemortified.Orembarrassed?Orsomething?I’mcertainI’mexpectedtofeelsomesortofshameforthiswholething,giventheangryglaremyfather’ssendingmyway.ButwhenIsearchmygut,allIfindissatisfaction.She’sright,thiswasalongtimecoming.
Okay,andalittlehumorbecausedidDadreallynotseethenearlyliteralsteamcomingoutofAuntVivian’sears?That’sfuckinghilarious.ButifIlaugh,I’mgoingtobeinsomuchtrouble.
NotthatIcare,butIdon’thavetimeforit.NotnowwhenIwanttotwirlSamanthaaroundandwhoopindelight,becauseIwasright.Thiswasourbestfamilydinnerever.
“Ithinkweshouldgo,”Isaystraight-faced.Myjaw’stightasIfighttostaystoic.
“Thatmightbebest,”Momsays,butthen,everthepolitehostess,sheadds,“Lovelytoseeyouagain,Samantha.”CHAPTER23SAMANTHA
Chancehasn’tsaidawordsinceweleft.Aftersilentlyhelpingmeinthecar,wedroveawayfromtheestate,andIdeducedabouttwentyminutesagothathe’sheadingtomyapartment.
Allincompletesilence.
Iunderstandwhyhe’smad.Thatwasaprettydramaticandtraumaticfamilydinner,withmeatthecenterforsomuchofit.Ididn’tgoinwiththeintentionofpsychoanalyzinghisauntandcousin,butitwassoover-the-topandobvious.Imean,howdidsomeonenotintervenebeforetonight?
AsforhowItalkedtoChuck,andmentionedonlybeinginitforthedick?Itwasaknee-jerkreactiontotheirveryloudassumptionthatanyfemalewhoshowsupwithoneoftheirboysmustbeoutfortheBenjamins.Ishould’vebeenmorepoliteandpolished,butIamwhoIam,andbowinguptothatsortofmentalityismygutresponse.
Chancehadseemedfineafterthat…andwhenIsaidittoKyle…andwhenIsaidittoVivian,butnow?Iglanceoverathimtofindhiseyeslockedontheroad,jawsetlikestone,andhandsgrippingthesteeringwheelsotightthey’returningwhite.
Yeah,somewherebetweenthereandnow,he’sputtogetherthatI’mnotthegirlyoutakehome.
Well.Itwasgoodwhileitlasted.
Realfuckinggood.
ThisiswhyIdon’tdorelationships,familymeetandgreets,andpromisesofforever.Ifuckthemup.ButI’mgoingtomissChance,andnotonlythemind-blowingsex.
I’mgoingtomisssnugglinguponthecouchwhilewebothstareatourlaptops,himworkingandmestudying,simplyexistingtogether.I’mgoingtomissthewayhiswholefacelightsupandhisshouldersrelaxwhenheseesme,likeImakehimhappy.I’mgoingtomissthewayheactsshockedwhenIsaysomethingscandalousbutthengrinsandcomplimentsthewaymybrainworks.I’mgoingtomiss…
ChanceHarrington.
Icutmyeyestheotherway,staringoutthewindow.Onthewayhere,thestarstwinklinghadseemedlikelittlesparklerscheeringusonforagreatnight.Now,theyfeellikethelasttinyflameofburned-outsparklers—prettyandflashy,butonlyforashorttime,andthenyou’releftholdingashesandhot,pointysticks.
WhenChancepullsuptothecurbinfrontofmybuilding,Isay,“I’msorry.”
Heholdsupahand,nearlyputtinghispalminmyface.“Don’tsayafuckingword.”
Well,Itried.
Iknewthisthinghadanexpirationdate.I’mnotChance’stype,andtobehonest,he’snotmine.Butforaminute,Ithoughtmaybetherewasachance
Whenheopensmydoorandhelpsmeout,Iexpecthimtoditchmethereonthesidewalkandpeelawaytoleavemefaster.ButChanceismoreofagentlemanthanthat,sohewalksstifflytothebuilding,holdsthedooropenforme,andfollowsmeinside.
Ifumblewithmydoorkey,andhetakesitfromme,probablythinkingI’mdraggingthisonindesperationbecauseheunlocksthedooreasily.“Iunderstand—”Istarttosay,againthinkingthisisgoodbye.
Heshovesmeinsideandslamsthedoorbehindus.Hedoesn’tevenlookatmewhenhegrowls,“GetthatdamndressofforI’mgonnaripitoff.”Hemakesafistafewtimes,hisknucklescreakingwiththerepeatedmovement.
“What?”Iblurtinutterconfusion
Chancemovescloser,gettingrightinmyface,nose-to-nose.Forthefirsttimesinceweleft,Icanseehowclearandbrighthiseyesare,thelittlestreaksofpalebluestarkagainstthedeeperblue.“Dress.Off.You.Table.Rightfuckingnow,Samantha.”
Okaaay.Iunderstandcavemantalk,butevenknowingwhathewantsmetodo…why?
AsIshimmymydressdown,Iask,“Arewehavingmadsex?Iknowyou’remadatme.I’msorry.”
Hestopsmefromclimbingonthetable—I’mnothingifnotobedientdespiteeveryevidencetothecontrary—bygrabbingmyankle.Ilookbackathiminsurprise.
“I’mfuckingfurious.Atmyfamily.Notatyou.Youdon’thaveanythingtoapologizefor.I’mtheoneapologizingformakingyougothroughthat.NowliedownsoIcanwritemy‘I’msorrys’onyourtits,yourpussy,andmaybethatass.”
Myheadisspinningwitheverythinghesaid,tryingtoprocess.Notmadatme—that’stheimportantone.Andso…“Yes,sir!”Ideclare,rippingoffmybraandlyingbackonmyteeny-tinydiningtable.
AsChanceyanksmypantiesdownmylegs,IwishIhadthespaceandmoneyforabiggertable,onewecouldbothclimbupontofuckwildlyonitsvastsurface.Asitis,thischeap-assbreakfasttablethatbarelyseatstwoisallIhaveroomfor.
Chanceleansoverme,cuppingmyjawfirmly,buthiskissisgentle.Ikeepmyeyesopenforasecondafterhisclose,watchinghim,waitingforthetrick.
Butonedoesn’tcome.
Aswekiss,hisshirtbrushesovermynipples,causingthemtopearlup.Wantingmore,Iarchmychestintohisandreachdowntograbathiswaist,buthepullsback,takingmyhandsandplacingthemtothetabletop.“Don’tmove.Letme.”
Palmspressingtothesurface,Itrymybesttobeareceivingpartner,butit’shard.Iwanttorunmyfingersthroughhishair,Iwanttoguidehimtomynipplesandlower,Iwant…whateverhe’sdoingrightnow.
He’spressingsoft,flutterykissesdownmyneck,andeveryonceinawhile,hetakesalittlenipoftheskinthatsurprisesmeeachtime.Atmycollarbone,hedragshistongueintothehollowandplacesakissatmyshoulderbeforerepeatingthemoveontheotherside.Morekissesdownmysternumandtomybellybutton,andmyhipsbuck,begginghimtokeepgoinguntilhereachesmyclit.Buthedoesn’t.
Hishandscupmybreasts,weighingtheirfullness,andImoanastheyacheforhistouch.Slippinghisthumbsovermyalreadystiffnipples,hewatcheshowtheyreactforhim,goingdiamondhard.Onlythendoeshetakeoneintohismouth.Histeetharesharpastheybitedown,butfuck,doesitfeelgood.Iarchagain,notabletostopit,andthankfully,hedoesn’tpunishmeforit.No,hekeepsgoing—sucking,nibbling,andlickingbothnipplesuntilIthinkImightcomefromthatalone.That’ddefinitelybeafirst.Buteverytimehedrawsdeeply,athreadtomycorepullstighterandtighter.
Moaning,Isplaymyhandsonthetable,thecoolsurfacekeepingmegroundedbecauseI’minrealdangerofsimplyshootingawaylikearocket.
“Goodgirl,”hemurmursagainstmyskinasifheknowshowhardI’mworkingtoobey.
I’dalreadyfiguredoutthatdirtytalkdoesitforme,butapparently,I’vegotanewpraisekinkgoingontoobecausehiswordsmakemesowetthatIcanfeelthejuicesrunningdownfrommypussytomyass.I’mprobablyleavingapuddleonthetable,butratherthangrossingmeouttodirtymyeatingspacethatway,it’ssexyashell,likewe’remarkingeverything,everywhere,withourarousal.
Hekisseslower,acrossmybellyandhips,andfinally,hesplaysmylegsopen.I’mreadyforhimtolickmethere,butwhenIliftmyhead,he’ssimplylookingatmycenter,hiseyesworshipful.“Beautiful,”hesays,rightbeforekissingmyinnerthigh.Igroanindisappointmenteventhoughhistouchtherestillfeelsgood,andhechuckles.“Patience.”
“Runningout,”Igaspashisfingersdancerightabovemyclit.I’msweatingwithhowharditistostopmyselffromliftingmyhipstogethisfingerswhereIwantthem.
“Here?”hehissesashisthumbbarelygrazesthetopofmyclit.
Isurgemindlessly,myhipsbuckingbeforeIcanevencontrolit,andChanceopen-palmswatsmypussywithhisfingers,rightovermyclit.It’snothard,butnotsofteither,andtheshockingjoltofitnearlymakesmecome.“Fuck,”Icryout.
“Beagoodgirl.Letmeloveyou.”
There’sadeepermeaningtohisorder,butIcan’tthinkaboutitnow.Notwheneveryfiberinmybodyisfightingit.Myhandsareclenchedintotightfists,mytoesarecurled,mybackisarched,andmyheartispounding.Ibreatheinlittlepants,tryingtorelaxtoreceivethispleasurehewantstogiveme.
Thislove?
Don’tgothere,Samantha,Iwarnmyself.Onethingatatime.
Whenmybacktouchesthetableagain,hepurrs,“Thereyougo.Goodgirl.”ThegritinhisvoicetellsmehewantsthisasmuchasIdo,andthat’senoughtogivemeanotherburstofstrength.
Icandothis.Icanliehereandlethimtorturemewithpleasure,enjoyingeverymomentofit.Icanacceptthis.Ideservethis.
Themantraformsinmymindunconsciously,butIrollwithit.
“Ideservethis.”Speakingitaloudmakesitmorereal,andChancerespondswithagrowl.
“Fuckyes,youdo.”
Histonguelashesovermyclit,speedy,quickflicksfocusedrightontopofitthatdrivemeinsane,whiletherestofmypussybegsforattentionofitsown.Ifeelemptyandwanthimtofillme,notcaringifit’swithhisfingersorcock,andIcanfeelmymusclesclampingdown,lookingforsomethingtosqueeze.Buthedoesn’t…notyet.He’sjustgettingstartedwithme,andheeatsmeoutlikeastarvingmangivenalusciousdessert.Lickingmelikeicecream,suckingmelikecandy,evennibblingmyclitlikechocolate.
Asmycriesgetlouder,Chancezeroesin,findingapatternovermyclitthatIcan’twithstandforlong.“Comeforme.Screammynameandtellmeyouacceptmyapology,Samantha.Please,”hegrunts,keepingmegoingwithhisthumbonmyclitwhilehebegs.Ashedivesbackformore,Iexplodeintoshardsofglass,lightreflectingeverywhereinsidemysoul.
“Chance!Noneed…to…apologize,”Imanagetostutteroutamidmyrelease.“Yes!”
Imeanit,there’snothingheneedstoapologizefor.Hisfamily’sbehaviorsaren’thisown.Andforthemostpart,hisfamilywasgreat.IknewwhatIwaswalkingintoandhandledtherest
SoifIdon’tneedtoapologize…andhedoesn’tneedtoapologize…whatarewedoing?
Fallingbacktoreality,Ireachforhimbuthepullsaway.
“Notdone.Byalongshot.”It’sallthewarningIgetbeforehisfingersfillme,pumpingintomypussyhardandfastandwipinganylogicalthoughtfrommymind.
Isthattwofingers?Three?Hiswholedamnhand?
Idon’tknow,butwithmybeingsoclosetotheedge,theonslaughtisalot.“Oh,shit.Idon’tknowifIcan.”
“Givemeanotherone,”hedemands.
Thestretchingfeelingrelaxes,andChancelayshisarmovermyhips,holdingmedownasheslamshisfingersintomestaccato,brushingthemovermyfrontwallwitheverystroke.“ThisiswhatIfeltlike,helddownbytheseatbeltwhileyoumademecomeforyou.”
Iliftmyheadtolookathim,findinghimgrinningdarklyashewatcheshisfingersdisappearinginsideme,enjoyingmymessypleasure.“Yougonnamakemecomeagain?”Iask,knowingtheanswerandwantingtheorgasm.“Holdmedownandtakewhatyouwantfrommypussy?”
I’mturningthetablesabit.Hetoldmetobestill,nottobequiet,andhe’sasturnedonasIam.Healmostmademecomesuckingonmynipples,andIwonderifIcanmakehimcomewithonlymywords.
Hisstrokesgetsloppy,hishandcurlingabit,andwhenhispalmbumpsintomyclit,I’mdone.Ifallapartagain,orcometogether,I’mnotsurewhich.AllIknowisthatwaveskeepcomingandcoming,takingmedeeperanddeeperuntilI’mdrowning.
Suddenly,Igasp,theairrushingintomylungsafterunconsciouslyholdingmybreath.
“Fuckme,please,Chance,”Ibeg.I’maragdoll,butIwanthimtocometoo.Iwanttogivehimpleasure.
Andbluntly,Iwanthiscock.
Hepushesofffromthetable,loomingoverme.ItfeelsobscenesomehowthatI’manakedmessandhe’sstillwearinghisclothesfromdinner,hisshirteventuckedin.ButIcanseethehumongousbulgebehindhiszipperstrainingtobesetfree,wantingtobeunleashedonme.
Hedoesn’ttakehisshirtoff,though,orundohispants.Hewalksawayafteragruff,“Staythere.”
Hedisappearsintomybedroom,andIhearhimopeningandclosingmynightstanddrawer.Heknowswheremytoysare,andI’mbothexcitedtoseewhathecomesbackwithanddisappointedbecauseIwanthisreal-lifedick,notasiliconeone.
Hecomesbackwithanewtoy,though.Atmyquestioninglook,heexplains,“Gotitfromyourworkstash,alreadywashedandready.I’llbuyitforus.”
Forus.Notforme.Forus.
Forsomereason,thatmakesafreshrushofwetnesspourfrommeandmyheartrace.
There’sjustoneproblem.“Idon’tthinkIcantakethatmonster.”
It’soneofourbiggerproducts,bothingirthandlength,plusithasvibratingrabbitears.Thesiliconeispurpleglitter,andit’scalledtheMadHatterbecausethisthingwillwearyourpussylikeahat.Itusesyou,nottheotherwayaround.Plus,youmightactuallygoabitmadfromrepeateduse.
“Youcan,”Chancereassuresme,soundingcertain.
Heswipestheheadofitthroughmyjuicesandaddsabitmorelubricationfromabottlehealsobroughtfrommyroom.“Breathe,”hetellsmeasheworksthehugedickintomypussy.Helazilystrokesovermyclit,keepingmearousedashegetsitfullyinserted.
Inandouthemovesit,slowlygettingmeusedtotheridiculousstretchanddeepfullness.Asmybodyrelaxes,makingiteasierandeasier,hepraisesme.Icryout,climbingthepeakforanotherorgasm,andChanceasks,“Youready?”
Ithinkhemeanstocome,andInodwoodenly.
Thatisnotwhathemeant.
Suddenly,heturnstheMadHatteron,andmyentirebodyvibratesasheholdsitfullyinsideme,stretchingmealmosttothepointofpainastherabbitearsdestroymyclit,buzzingnotjustonthesurface,butthroughthenerveswellintomybody’score.Hegivesmetinystrokes,stayingdeepandmakingtheearsbounceagainstmyclitinapunishingrhythm.
Idie.
Maybeliterally.I’mnotsure.
AllIknowistheentireworldgoesblack,anddistantly,Ifeelmybodyspasming.IthinkIscream.IknowIsquirteverywhere,butonlybecausewhenIcomebackfromtheothersideandforcemyeyesopen,IcanseethewetnessalloverChance’sshirt.
“Ohmagawd…ohmagawd…”Igaspoverandover,tryingtogetoxygentomybrain.
ChancepullstheMadHatterfrommewithcare,setsitdownwithdecidedlyless,andyankshistieoff.Heonlygetsthreeorfourbuttonsundoneonhisshirtbeforehegivesupandripsitoverhishead.Beltandslacksdroptothefloor,andIguesshekickedhisshoesoffatsomepoint.Whenheshoveshisunderweardown,freeinghiscock,it’shugeandhard,thetipnearlypurplefromholdingbackhisorgasm.
Hetakeshimselfinhand,strokingroughly.“Toldmyselfthiswasforyou.It’smyapology.”Iwanttosaywe’vealreadyfiguredthisoutandthattherearenoapologiesneeded,buthe’sramblingsofast.“Ineedtocome,Samantha.Idon’tdeserveit,andI’msorry…Ihaveto.”
Hestartsjackinghimself,andIsitup,sendingsparklesthroughmyvision.Blinking,Iputahandonhis,stoppinghim.Hegruntsindesperation,andIwonderifmyBoyScoutisgoingtopushmedownandtakeme.TheideawithChanceisexciting.Ilovewhenhegoesbeyondhisownboundaries.
“Youdon’thaveanythingtoapologizefor,”Itellhimagain.“Don’tpunishyourself.”
Hegritshisteeth,pantingjaggedlyashepressesourforeheadstogethersothathecanlookdeepintomyeyes.Ofeverythingelsewe’vedone,thisfeelsthemostintimate,andthemostimportant,andthoughit’sonlyamoment,itfeelslikeforever.Hestartstosaysomething,butIfeelhimphysicallyswallowthewordsandchangecourse.
“Rolloverandputthatassrighthereforme.”
Hereleasesmeandstepsback,tappingthetable.
IdoasI’mtold—standingup,butbendingovertopressmycheektothetable,withmyassrightinfrontofChance.Iwiggleenticingly,knowingwhatwe’reabouttodoandwantingit.
WantingChance.
Hishandsgripmycheeks,squeezingthehandfulsoffleshdelightfullytight,andIrememberwarninghimaboutfingerprintsonmythighearlier.Here?Onmyasswherenoonecanseethembutus,Iwelcomethemandarchformore.
Hespanksmetwice,hard,andIcryout.“Youlikethat?”heasks.Hisvoiceisdemanding,daringmetosayno,buthe’strulycheckingonmetoo.
Inodmindlessly,twitchingmyhipsforanother.Hespreadsmycheeksapart,andIfeelvulnerableinanentirelydifferentway.Ifeelhimbutlubeonmyasshole,andthenhisthumbslidesthroughit,teasingatmyentrancetotestwhetherI’mready.
Histhumbpopsineasily,andhechuckles,quietanddark.
I’msofargone,acompleteandutterslutforthismanandwhathedoestomybody.
Ihearhimslatheringlubeonhiscock,thewetsmacksgettingmereadytoo.“I’mnotgonnalastlong,Samantha.Gettinginthissweetholeafterwatchingyoutakethatbigdickforme.Canyouhelpme?”
“Yes,anything,”Ipromise.
“Goodgirl.Slideyourhandsunderneathyou.IwantyoutorubthatclitwhileIfuckyourasshard.Iwanttofeelyoucomeagain,feelyourassconvulsingaroundme.Canyoumakemecome,Samantha?”
Hiswordsarealreadydoinghalftheworkforusboth.
“Uh-huh.”I’mdoingashesaid,slidingmyhandsundermyhipsandcuppingmypussy.“I’mready,justdoit.”
Idon’tneedhimtogoslow.Ifthere’sanypain,IwelcomeitbecauseIwanthiminsideme—here,there,anywhere,aslongasit’shim.
Onlyhim.
Hegroansatmyinvitation,andIfeelthetipofhiscockatmybackentrance.Despitemywords,hepressesinslowly,butgivenhisjaggedbreathing,Ithinkit’sforhispleasureandcontrol,notmycomfort.Ifeelasharppainforasplitsecond,andthenIsighasmybodyrelaxestotakehim.
Deepinsideme,heholdsmyhipsinhispunishinggripandthenunleasheshimselfonme.Hepoundshardandfast,myasscheeksrecoilingwitheveryslamofourhips.Itshouldhurt,alllogicsaysitshould,butitdoesn’t.WithmyfingersblurringovermyclitandChancefuckingmyasslikeabeast,I’mcloseinseconds.
He’sgruntingbehindme,andIcanfeelhissweatdrippingontomyspine.He’sholdingbackforme,lettingmegettheretoosohecanfeelmecomearoundhim.Iknowwhatwebothneed.
“Fuckmyass.Takeit,it’syours.”Iforcefullyinhalebecausehe’spoundingharderwithmywords.“I’myourslut,Chance.Yoursonly.Fillmyasswithyourcum…please!”ThelastpartisanotherscreambecauseIspasmashethunders,pouringhimselfintomeashefucksmeintothetable.
Thistime,IfocusonChancethroughmyownorgasm,intentionallymilkingeverydropfromhim.“Yes,giveittome.”Andhedoes,pulseafterhotpulsefillingme.
Whenhe’sdone,hetakesabigbreath,recovering,andIsigh,“Goodboy.”
Helaughs,thesuddenmovementunfortunatelypullinghimfrommybody.Leaningforward,hegetsrightinmyearasIlookbackathim.“Thatsoundslikeyou’retalkingtoadog.”Hisgrinisgood-natured,andit’sobvioushe’smuchhappiernowthatItoldhimhedidn’thaveanythingtoapologizeforandhecamelikeamonsterinmyass.
Igrinback,arguing,“Well,youcalledmegoodgirl.”
“Differenceis…youlikedit,”hesayscockily.
He’snotwrong,Ididlikethat,soIshrugflirtilyandstarttogetupfromthetable.Chancehelpsme,andassoonasIstand,Irealizewhatanabsolutemessofcum,lube,andjuicesIam
“Shower?”heoffers,andwhenInod,hedisappearstothebathroomtostartitforus.
I’mwide-leggedsteppingaroundtryingtogatherourclotheswhenthere’saknockatthedoor.
Nope,notansweringthat.
WhichismyplanuntilIhear,“Samantha,it’sWanda.Thelandlord.”
Oh,shit!There’sonlyonereasonshe’dbecomingtoseemerightnow,andit’snotbecausemyrent’slate.Becauseit’snot.Ialreadypaidthismonth’sandhavenextmonth’sinsavings,whichisanexcitingmarkofmysuccesswithBedroomHeavensales.
Igrabablanketfromthecouchandwrapitaroundme,makingsureeverythingiscovered.Still,asIcrackthedoor,Istaybehinditjustincase.“Hey,Wanda,sorryabouttheuh…noise.”
Hersmileisnearlyear-to-ear.“Nothereaboutthat…well,notexactly,althoughyoumightwanttorememberthatthewallsofthisoldbuildingarethin.Like‘who’sChance?’levelthin.”Sheleanstotheside,tryingtopeerintotheapartment.
Sheheardmecallinghisname?Thatmeanssheheardahellofalotmore,too.
“Oh,myGod,I’msorry.I’llrememberthat,forsure,”Ivow,tryingtoclosethedoorbeforeIburstintoflamesofembarrassment.
“Wait!”shecries,holdingupherhand.“Iheardyou’resellinguhm,stuffnow?CanIgetacatalogorsomething?Foryourproducts?”
ShemakesitsoundlikeI’madrugdealerwithacatalogofmerchandise.Pagethree,cocaine.Pagetwelve,ecstasy.Pagetwenty-seven,meth.
ButIknowwhatshemeans.
“Yeah,hangon.”Ipushthedoorclosedandreachformypurse,pullingoutabusinesscardforBedroomHeaven.Openingthedooragain,Ihandherthecard.“TheQRcodeisontheback.Scanthatwithyourphone,andyou’llbeinthecatalogundermyname.Buywhatyouwant,andI’lldeliveritwithinafewdaysatmost,maybesoonerifIhaveitinstock.Andifyouhaveanyquestions,letmeknow.I’mhappytohelp.”
I’mmakingsalesatmyfrontdoor,whileI’mnakedbeneathablanketwithwho-knows-whatwetlyrunningdownmylegs.Karawasright—sexsells.Wait’llJaxxhearsthisstory.She’llprobablyturnitintoanewsalesstrategy—DemoswithaPurpose.
AsIclosethedoor,Chancereappears,andhisbrowsjumpuphisforehead.“Makingarunforit?”heteases,thoughthere’sathreadofworryinhisvoice.
“Makingasale,”Iexplainwithalaugh.“That’stwoinoneday,countingtheoneyoujustbought.”IpickuptheMadHatter,surprisedatitsweightandsuddenlyalittleashamedthatItookallthat.
Doesthatmakemeaslut?Likenotinasexy-talkway,butinanactualway?
Iknowthesciencebehindit.Vaginalopeningsaremeanttostretchandcaneasilyhandlepenisesofeverysize,consideringanentirebabyheadcomesoutit.Butthere’sanexpectationthatwomenbe‘tight’andvirginalinoursociety,andifthey’renot,there’sastigma.AndIhaven’tbeenavirgininalongtime.Inevergaveitasecondthought,longagodismissingtheideaofabodycountuntilI’mlookingatactualproofthatyoucoulddriveaMacktruckinmyvaginawithouttouchingthewalls.
“Hey,where’dyougo?”Chanceasks,comingoverandtakingmeinhisarms.
Ishakemyhead,tryingtorattlethosethoughtsloose.Iknowthey’renottrue,butI’masmuchavictimofsocietyaseveryoneelse.Ijusthavetokeepremindingmyselfthatit’sallbullshit.
“Wonderinghowinthehellthisfit,”Iadmit.
Chancechuckles.“Withalittlebitofworkandawholelottalube.”Hedropshishandbetweenus,usingthelubethat’sstilltheretoslidetwofingersintomeandpumpingthemslowly.IcanfeelthedeliciousstretcharoundhimagainnowthatI’mnotasaroused.“Youwantitagain?I’llgetyouthere.”
There’snojealousyinthequestion,noconcernthathethinksIwantatoyoverhim,especiallyaparticularlylargeone.WithChance,there’sonlyawillingnesstoenjoyeachother.
ButIdon’tneedanotherround.I’mblissfullyorgasmedout,mentallysatisfied,andphysicallyexhausted.
IpressakisstoChance’slips,soquickhedoesn’tevenpuckertokissmeback.“Let’stakeashower.”
Afterwashingoff,wecurluptogetherinmybed.Nakedbeneaththesheets,Icarefullyask,“Areyoudisappointedintonight?It’sokay,Iprobablyshouldn’thavegone.”
Igavehimsomanychancestosaynobeforewewent,butmaybeIshould’vemadetheno-gocallmyselfandnotriskedthingsgoingsobadly.ButI’dwantedtosupportChance,andhe’dkeptsayinghewantedmethere.
Hewasprobablybeingpolite.That’showheis.
Hehumsthoughtfully,andIcanappreciatethathe’sreplayingtheeveningout,analyzingitinthatwayhedoes.“No,I’mnotdisappointed.IthinkI’m…pleased?That’sthebestwayIcandescribeit.It’snothappy,becauseIknowpeoplegottheirfeelingshurt,buttherewerethingsthatshould’vebeensaidalongtimeagothatfinallycameout.Acknowledgingitisthefirststeptofixingit,andnow,hopefully,wecan.Becauseofyou.”
Hesaysitlikeit’sacompliment,notanaccusation.
“Really?”
Againstmylips,herepeats,“Really.”
Andthenhekissesme,hislipssimplymovingagainstminesweetly.It’semotional,anddespiteallmyinternalprotests,Icanfeelwarmthofatotallydifferentkindbloominmychest.Maybeitwasn’tsobad,Ithink.
Iwon’tbewritingapaperaboutitformypsychologyclassbecauseIdefinitelydidn’tbehavethewayIshould’ve,withVivianespecially.Butmaybeitwasokay?
IfChanceisn’tmadatme,that’senoughforme.I’mgoingtoenjoyit,enjoyhim,whileIcan.CHAPTER24CHANCE
“Knock,knock,”Jimsayswhilesimultaneouslyrappingonmyofficedoor.WhenIlookup,he’sgotacuriouslookonhisface.“Yabusy?There’ssomevisitorshereforya.”
“Visitors?”Iechodumbly.AquickmentalcheckofmycalendarreaffirmsthatIdon’thaveanyappointmentstoday.
“Thanks,man,”KyletellsJim,pushingpasthimandintomyoffice.Jimstepsoutofthewayastherestofmysiblingsallfileintoo.
Cameron,Carter,Luna,Cole,Kayla,andKyleareallstandinginthesmallspacethat’snotdesignedformorethanme.Ah,soit’soneofthosevisits.“Uh,heyguys,what’sup?”
I’mscanningfaces,butnoneofthemgivemeaclue.Thisisafirst,though.AbouttheonlythingthatgetsallofusinoneroomisMomrequiringit,ormaybeGracie’sannualgraduationatschool.
Nope,Iremember,Coleskippedthatlastyear.Saidhewas‘busy’.
“What’sup?”Cameronsnarls.“Areyouserious?”
Everthepeacemaker,Kaylastepsforward.“Nope,notyet.Holdthatpissandvinegarinforaminutelonger.Whereelsecanwetalksothatallofyouaren’tindangerofrunningramrodoverLunaandme?”
Shespins,leadingeveryoneoutofmyofficelikesheknowswheretogo.Followingher,Icallahead,“Lastdoorontheright.It’sourbiggestmeetingroom.”
Insidetheroom,Kaylaclosesthedoorbehindus,directingeveryonetograbachairandhaveaseat.Despitethisbeingmyclub,apparently,she’sincharge.
Oncewe’reseatedinacircle,Colenotesinawrytone,“Thisfeelslikeanintervention.”
Pullinghisbigbrotheract,Camerondemands,“Howwouldyouknow?”
WhichmakesColeclamrightbackup,asperusual.
“Okay,weneedtotalkaboutlastnight,”Kaylastarts.
“DoingMom’sbiddingagain?”Ideadpan.“Cutthecrap,saywhatshewantsyoutosay,andwecanallgetonwithourdays.Iknowweallhaveshittodo.”Ipointaroundthecircle,stillawedthatthey’reallhereontheflylikethis.“Cameronprobablyhassomebigshotdealtoclose,Carterhasastockmarkettoobsessover,Colehaswhateverthefuckhehas,andKyleprobablyhassomeonetiedtohisbednakedathome,waitingonhim.”
It’snotexactlywhatIthinkofmysiblings.OratleastnotallIthinkofthem.Butit’snottoofaroff.
Kylesmirks.IshetellingmeI’mrightortellingmeI’mwrong?Whoknows.
Kaylapointsasharpnailatme.“Thisisn’tMom.It’sme,andI’mnotgonnahavemyfamilyimplodebecauseyoucan’tkeepitinyourpants.You’retheoneIdon’tworryaboutusually,buthereweare.”
Agrumbleworksitswaythroughmybrothers,thegeneralconsensusbeing‘youdon’tneedtoworryaboutme’,butKayla’snothavingit.
“Ifeellikethisismyfault.IwassosurprisedtoseeSamanthaatyourplacethatIwascurious.Icouldseethewayyouwerelookingather,feelthesparksbetweenyou,andIguessIthoughtifIinvitedher,itwouldpushyou.IhadnoideayouwereevenseeingSamantha,oranyoneelse,forthatmatter,beforethen,butyouwereobviouslymuchmorethancasual.Nobodylikestobehiddenawaylikeadirtylittlesecret,Chance,butthat’swhatyouweredoingtoher.”
Itsoundslikemysister’stalkingfromexperience,andIwonderwhatIdon’tknowabouthertoo.Ofallthesiblings,we’retheclosest,butshe’sright.Ididn’ttellheraboutSamantha,soit’dbelogicalthatshehasstuffsheholdsclosetoherchestandstayssilentabout.
Idon’tlikeit.She’smybabysister,andifanyone’streatingherpoorly,Iwanttoknowaboutit.Betweenusfivebrothers,wecouldtakehimdown—financially,mentally,andphysically
Kayla’sstaringatme,waitingforaresponse.
“I’msorry.Ishould’vetoldyou,butSamanthaandIaren’tsomebigthing.We’recasual,justhookingup.”EvenasIsaythelie,Icringe,knowingthathasn’tbeenthetruthforalongtime.
Kylelaughsfirst,buttheneveryone’slaughing—atme.
Carterspeaksup,though.“Ifyoubelievethat,I’vegotsomeshittosellyou,brother.I’manadmittedandwell-documenteddumbass,andevenIcanseethatyouloveher.”
Ilookaroundtheroom,notatmysiblings,butlikeSamanthamightjumpoutandyell‘gotcha!’fromacornerorfrombehindastackofchairs.
“Shh!Keepitdown,”Itellhim,afingertomylips.Attheirconfusedlooks,Iexplain,“IknowI’minlovewithher,butshe…”Igetup,pacingaroundtheroomandpullingatthestrandsofmyhair,notcaringabouthowitlookslater.
AndthenIseeLuna.Samantha’sbestfriend.
She’ssoquiet,IthinkIforgotthatshewashere.Loomingoverher,Iorder,“Youcan’ttellher.She’llpanicandrun.”WhenCarterglaresatmeforspeakingtohiswifethatway,Isayitagain,slightlysofter,“Please,don’ttellher.”
I’llbeghertostaysilentifIhaveto,butSamanthacan’tknowshehasmyheart.Ifshethinksforonesecondthatthisismorethanserial,repeathook-ups,she’llbegoneinaflash.
“What’sgoingon?”Cameronasks.“Issheanti-loveorsomething?Afterlastnight,Iwouldn’tbesurprised.”
Normally,I’dbealloverhim,butasitis,Ifallbacktomychair.
“Listen,here’swhathappened…”
Itellthemeverything,fromwhatthe‘conference’reallyentailed,ourfirstnightwhenwedidn’tknowwhowewere,CarterandLuna’sice-skatinginvitation,dates,dinners,talkingallnight,andmore.
“Andlotsofsex,”Ifinish.“Hence,thehook-upmentality.Butit’ssomuchmorethanthat.”
Lunajumpsin,carefullyexplaining,“Samantha’sdadblindsidedthem,leavingtheminabadsituation,andifthatwasn’tenough,hewasprettyawfulaboutit.Shedoesn’ttrustguys,atall.Shedatesandstuff…”Lunalooksatme.“Orshedid.Butshekeepseveryoneatarm’slengthsothatwhentheyleave,itdoesn’thurtasmuch,becauseit’snotiftheydo,it’swhentheydo.”
Iaddon,“Youeverseeoneofthosemovieswherethey’retryingtoknockdownafortresswallwithabatteringram?”Whentheynod,Igoon,“Samantha’slikethat.Herwallsarefortifiedwithsteel,andI’vegotateeny,tinysticktryingtogetthroughtoherheart.It’sgonnataketimeforhertotrustme.”
ColeandKylearesnickering,andKyleholdsuphispinkiefinger.“Yousaidyou’vegotalittlestick.”
“Really,assholes?”Kaylascoldsthem,andtheyshrug.Ican’tfaultthem,itwasaprettyeasypitchonmypart.
Carterleansforward,hiselbowsonhiskneesashepinsmewitheyesthatarescarilysimilartomyown.“Thisisreal?She’soneofus,notasLuna’sfriendbutasyour…whateveryou’recallingitsoshedoesn’tbail?”
Inod.Itfeelsgoodtoadmititaloud,totellsomeonebecauseIcan’ttellSamantha.Notyet.
“Okay,we’vegotyourback,then,”hedeclares,asifshe’snowpartofthefamily,notjustadefactomemberofourgangofmisfits.
AsIlookaroundthecircle,everyonenodsmyway,onboardwithCarter’swords.Thisisthefirsttimeinalongtimethatwe’veallbeenonthesamesideofsomething.Itfeelsgood.
MaybeSamanthafixedmyfamilymorethansherealized.
“Onthatnote,youneedtoknowwhathappenedafteryoutwoleftlastnight…”Kaylasays.
“Shitshowcircus,”Kyleblurts.Heflashesaboyishgrin,throwingmeathumbs-up.“Kindaawesome.”
Judgingbyeveryone’sfaces,he’snotwrong.Atleastabouttheshitshowpart.
“GrandpaChuckandDadbasicallyhateSamantha,saidshewas,andIquotebecauseIdon’twantyoutothinkthisisfromme,‘mouthyandoutspoken’.MomandGrandmaBethloveher,forthesamereason,basically,”Cameronexplains.“MomcalledherabreathoffreshairwhenGrandpagrumbledaboutabigfamilyblow-upbeingbadforhisheartathisage.”
Ilaugh,knowingSamanthawouldappreciateallofthosedescriptors,takingthemascomplimentsregardlessofhowtheywereintended.AndGrandpaChuck’sheartiscompletelyfine.Themanbragsaboutstilldoingfivemilesadayonhisrecumbentexercisebike.Andnowthathe’sretired,heandGrandmaBethridehorsesnearlyeverydayandtakecareofthemtoo.Theyhavehelp,ofcourse,becausetheycanaffordit,buthealwayssayshelikesgettinghishandsdirtynowbecausehedidn’tforsomanyyearswhenhewassittingataboardroomtable.
ButIcanseethatthebrutalconversationwithAuntVivianprobablywasn’tsomethinghewaslookingforwardto.
“Okay,butIdon’tcarewhatDadthinks.Ihaven’tinalongtime,”Iargue.
Kylesnorts.“Ofcourseyoucare.Weallcare.He’sashitfatherwaytoodamnoften,buthe’sours.It’shumannaturetowanthisapproval.”
Whoa.That’sthedeepestadmissionKyle’severexpressedaboutourfather.AtleastthatI’veheard.Usually,IthinkhegetsakickoutoftryingtodriveDadintotheground,butmaybethere’smoretoit.
Carternods,agreeingwithKyle.He’sworkedmiracles,extractinghimselffromDad’sclutchesatBlueLaketostarthisownfirm,doingtheworkDadtaughthimtodo.They’renotcompetitorssinceCarterworksforasingularclient,butgettingtothepointwheretheycanhavebusinessdiscussionsaboutthemarketandjokeaboutprojectionstookawhile.“Idamnnearkilledmyself,workingtwenty-five,eight,three-sixty-six,sohe’dseemethroughthatone’sbright-assshine.”HepointsatCameron,whoisthefirst-born,andtherefore,theautomaticgoldenchild.“Butevennow,deepdown,IwanttoshowhimthatI’mnotjustgood,I’mgreatatwhatIdo.”
LunaplacesherhandoverCarter’s,smilingathimsweetly.“Youaregreat.”
“Isnobodygonnatellhimthebestpart?”Coleasks,drawingmyattention
There’sarippleoflaughterand,confused,Iask,“What?”
“Viviancameback,”Coletellsme.
MyeyeswidenasIscanhisface,lookingforanyhintofalie.“Shedidnot.”
Heholdshishanduplikehe’stestifying,“Iswear.Itwasfuckinghilarious.”Hemimesherstompingout,whirlingaround,andwaggingherfinger.“Andanotherthing!Blah-blah-blah.”Laughinghard,hesays,“Iswearshediditlikethreetimes,justrantingherassoffeachtime,makinglessandlesssense.Therewasevensomethingabouthercatwhenshewasakid.”
“Noway!”AlittlepartofmewishesI’dseenthat.
Coleholdshishandsout,shrugging.“IguessGrandpaChucktoldherMuffalinadied—legit,thecat’sname—butitactuallyranawayandhedidn’twanttosearchthewholedamntowntofindthebeastbecauseitwasameanthing,alwaysbitingandscratchingpeople.Vivianincluded.Hethoughtitwasablessingindisguisethenandstilldoesnow.ShedidnotagreeandwassobbingthathenevercaredaboutMuffalinaoranyoneelse,andthatmaybesheshould’vegottenatomcatsohewould’velookedforit.Heapologized,butshesaiditwastoolittle,toolate,andstompedoffagain.”
Iclosemyeyes,picturingAuntVivianwailingaboutacatfromforty-plusyearsago.Notthatitdied,butthatsomeotherfamilyprobablytookitinanditwasn’thersanymore.Hell,itprobablyranawayonpurposetogetawayfromher
“Butguesswhodidn’tgobackwithher?”Kylehints.“Notthecat.AuntVivian.”
“Devin?”
“Ehnt!HewasfollowingMommyaroundlikeapuppyonaleash,backandforthwithhereachtime,glaringatuswhenwelaughedatheroutburstsandtellingherthatshe’ssooorighttobeupset.ButBridgette?Shegotprogressivelyannoyedwiththewholething,andthelasttimeDevintriedtoshooherafterVivian,shewavedhimoff.Toldhimto‘sorthismotherout’andthatshe’dtakeanUber.
Apparently,Imissedalotwhenweleft.
“Whathappened?”
“Itookherhome,”Coleanswers.Whenalleyesshoottohim,headds,“Droppedheratthecurb,toldhertolistentoSamantha,andpulledawayassoonasshewalkedinthefrontdoor.Idon’tknowifshe’sgonnatakethegoodadvice,though.Shewasprettyquietthewholeway.”Igetthefeelinghe’salreadytoldthemthisatleastoncebefore.
“Afterthat,thepartybrokeupprettyquickly,”Kaylasays.“Sothatwasournight.Howwasyours?”
She’sfishing,bigtime.
“IapologizedtoSamanthaforourfamily,sheapologizedforupsettingeveryone,andweshookonit,decidingtoleaveitinthepast.”Technically,I‘mnotlying.Wedefinitelydidsomeapologizingandshaking,justnotinthewayI’mmakingitsound.
“Good,”Carterdeclares,notcallingmeoutonthelie.
“Maybewecandoubledatesometime?”Lunaaskshopefully.
“Aslongasyoudon’tcallitadate,maybeso,”Ianswer,moreofarealistthansheis.
“Ifwe’redonehere,Ireallygottago,”Colesays,lookingathiswatch.I’msurprisedhe’ssatherethislongwithus,tobehonest.
Whenhegetsup,everyonestartstoleave,butCameronhangsback.I’mnotsurprised.Heprobablywantstodoabigbrotherspeech,betterknownasDad2.0.
“What’sup?”Iask.
Heswallowshardandlooksupattheceiling,gatheringhiswords.“Becareful,that’sit.IcantellyouhaverealfeelingsforSamantha,butifshe’snot…”Hetrailsoff,andafteraheavysigh,triesagain.“I’vebeeninlove—real,deep,foreverlove.I’vehelditinmyhanduntilitdidn’tevenseemspecialanymore,andItookitforgranted.AndwhenIlostit…itfuckedmeup,man.”Hegripsathischestoverhisheart,showingmoreemotionaboutthelossofhiswifethanI’veseenfromhimsinceherfuneral.
Myinstinctistothrowmyarmovermybrother’sshoulder,buthepurposefullystepsawayfromme,notwantinganycomfort.
“Cameron,whathappenedtoyouwas—”
Hecutsmeoff.“Just…Idohopeitturnsintosomethingmore.Foryou,forher.BecauseI’dgothroughtenmoredecadesofthehellIfeeleverymorningforthegoodyearsIhad.Butbecareful.Becauseifthisisone-sidedorSamanthacan’tgiveyouwhatyouneed,it’llburnoutjustasfastasitstarted,leavingyoualonetorealizeyouburnedyourwholeworldtothegroundforsomeoneyoucan’thaveafuturewith.”
Heleaves,notgivingmeanopportunitytorespondinanyway.Perplexed,Iwalkbacktowardmyoffice.
“Hey,Chance!”Stephencallsout,stoppingme.
Distracted,Inod.“Yeah,what’sup?”
Hefurrowshisbrows,lookingatmecuriously.“Yougood,man?”
“Yeah,yeah,”Irepeat,filingawaytheheavythoughtsCameronlaidatmyfeet.
“YouknowwhereSamanthais?Wehaveanappointmenttoday,butshe’snotinthecounselingroom.”
“Shehasatesttoday,”Ianswerwithoutthinking.“Youshouldn’thaveasessionscheduled.Maybeyougotthedaywrong?”Isuggest.
“No,itwastoday,”heanswerstightly.“Guesssheforgot.”
That’snotlikeSamantha,butshemaintainsherownscheduleofclassesandmentoring,soIcan’tbesure.ThetestIknowaboutbecauseshe’sbeenstudyingforweeksandIhelpedherwithflashcardsoverbreakfast.“IstheresomethingIcanhelpwith?Ihaveaminute,”Ioffer.
ButStephenshakeshisheadandstartswalkingaway.“Nah,that’sokay.Iwantedtotalktoher.”
I’mnottooworriedabouthim.Stephenhasbeenshowinghugestridesinhisconfidence,andthat’sthemainthinghewaslacking.He’sevenbeenactingasamentorforsomeofthenewermembers,andIcanunderstandwhy,ifhe’sgotsomethinggoingon,hemightprefertotalktoSamanthaaboutit.Especiallyifit’sinfofromclassorgirl-related.
Still,Icallafterhim.“Hey,Stephen!”Whenhelooksback,Ismile.“YoumeantMissRedding,right?”
Heblinksacoupleoftimesbeforehegetsit,thennods,“Yeah,MissRedding.”
Buthisvoicehasgonehollowandwhenhewalksaway,hisheadisdown,andIremindmyselftoaskSamanthaaboutherschedulelater.CHAPTER25SAMANTHA
I’mkickingassandtakingnames!Thelastweekhasbeenamazing.
Chancetoldmehissiblingscamebyandsaiddinnerafterweleftwasevenmoreofashowdownthanbefore,soinalotofways,I’vebeenwipedfromtheirmemoriesastheinstigatorofFamilyNuclearMeltdown’23.Plus,hereassuredmeagainthathe’snotmadatmeforanyofit.
JaxxandIarestillselling.Inadditiontothefour—four!—productsWandabought,Ihadthreeothertenantsinthebuildingcomebytopurchasethings.Thankfully,theyhadn’theardmyloudrecommendationoftheMadHatter,buttheydidgetaglowingreferralfromWanda.
Iacedmytestatschool,whichwasmoreofapresentationfollowedbyamockcounselingsessionwithmyprofessor.Andontheflipsideofthestudentbecomingtheteacher,myclassesattheclubhavebeengoingwell.
Thelastone,‘MakeYourOwnMeet-Cute’,wasabighit.I’dworkedwiththeguysongenuineapproachesthatdon’tfeelcreepy,waystobeanactualniceguy,notapseudo-niceguy,andsmalltalkthathelpsyoubothdecidewhetheryou’recompatible.MyfavoritepartofthatclasswaswhenIhadtheguyspracticesometypicalpick-uplines.
LucashadnearlyjumpedEnzoduringthelatter’sdemo,andnotinasexyway.Jimhadtocomeintostoptheirarguing,butintheend,everysingleguylearnedalotandseveralcameuptomeafterwardtothankme.Swoon!
I’vealsobeenworkingwithEvanonthepodcasttheyaskedmetogueston.Ratherthanatypicalchatsession,we’vedecidedtodoitupbigwithaHeSaid,SheSaiddiscussion.I’veinvitedseveralgirlsfromschool,andwe’vehand-selectedafewguysfromtheclub,allwiththeintentionofputtingtheminaroom,throwingoutatopicorquestion,andseeingwhatsparksfly.
Ithasthepotentialtobefantasticoracompletefailure,whichisridiculouslyexciting.Andsittingdowninthemeetingroomwe’veturnedintoatemporarystudio,Icanfeeltheexcitementintheair.
“Thankyouforagreeingtobepartofourdiscussiontoday,”Evansaysaseveryoneshiftsintheirchairs.“I’mEvanWhite,andbeforewebegin,I’dliketogooverafewrules.First,pleasestayinyourchairs.Themicswe’vegotaren’texactlyreadyforalotofmovement,andI’mnotgoodenoughwiththetechtodoreworksontheflyforten-pluspeople.”
Evancontinueswiththerules,coveringlanguage,respect,stayingontopic,andmore,andthougheveryone’slistening,they’remostlyeyeingeachother,sizinguptheverbalcompetition.
“Okay,sinceSamanthaistheonlyonewhoknowsallofyou,I’mgonnaletherdotheintros,”hesays,turningitovertome.
“Thanks,Evan.Wetriedtogetamixofyoungadults,butyou’reallbetweentheagesofnineteenandtwenty-fiveandattendingclassesattheuniversity,sowe’renotexactlyavarieddemographic,buthopefully,that’llhelpusfindsomecommongroundbecauseweonlyhaveanhourhere.Quickbasicsoneveryone—fromtheclub,wehave…”
“Lucas—he’smajoringinsportsmarketingandspeakshismindallthetime,whetheryouwanttohearitornot.”IgrinatLucassoheknowsImeanitmostlyasacompliment,andhenodshishead,agreeingwithme.
“Stephen.YoueverheartheMr.Rogerssaying‘lookforthehelpers’?That’sStephen,soifyouneedanythingattheclubtoday,ladies,hecanprobablyhelpyou,whetherit’sthevendingmachinesortherestrooms.”
Stephennodsatthewomenacrossthetablewithawarmsmileandtellsthem,“Jim,oursecurityguard,willbeneartherestroomstodaysoyoufeelsafetousethem.”
Myheartgrowsathowthey’relisteningandlearningbecausehavingJimstationedinthatareafortheguests’comfortwasAnthony’sidea.
“Anthony—he’sourgoofballwithagoodheart.”
Anthonyinterruptsme,mock-scolding,“Don’ttell‘emthat,MissR.You’realreadymessingwithmygame!”
Inresponse,Itapmyforeheadandtease,“Whatgameisthat,Toro?”Heblushesatthereminderofthesuctioncupcirclethatlastedforages,buthe’snotreallyembarrassed.He’sprettyproudofthenicknamehisanticsearnedhim,andheandIaretotallygoodnow.He’sapologized,isthinkinginanentirelynewway,andhegavemeandJaxxmoneyforthemerchandiseheandhisfriendstook.
LucasnudgesAnthony’sshoulderwithhisown.“Man,youain’tgotnogame.Youjust‘sprayandpray’thatcharmaround,hopingtogetsomeass.Youneedtonarrowthatscope,bruh.”
Anthonylaughsatthedig,poppingback,“Likeyou’reouttheresniping‘emoneatatime.”Theydevolveintolaughterwithfistbumpsandcopious‘bros’.
“Guys.”Chancesaysthesingleword,andthetwoofthemstraightenup,thoughthey’restillgrinningandpleasedwiththemselves.
Continuingon,Isay,“Enzo—he’sourmanwithaplan.Valedictorian,summacumlaude,lawschoolwithanemphasisonbusiness.Nevermetadistractionhecouldn’tignorewithhislaserfocus.”
“Andlastbutnotleast,Tyler.He’snewtotheclub,soIdon’tknowhimaswell,butitfeltimportanttoincludesomeonelessfamiliarwiththeteachingsoftheGentlemen’sClub.”
“’Sup?”Tylersays,wavingtwofingersatthewomenacrossfromhim.
“Andoverhere,Ididn’tthinkitwouldbefairtoincludemorepsychologystudents,soItriedtoexpandmypoolsowe’dgetsomevarietyinexperiences.”IcheckmynotestomakesureIgeteveryonecorrectandpointasIgodownthetable.“First,Jaxx—she’samusicmajorandgoestoconcertsofeverygenreasoftenaspossible.Meli—she’sabadasssoccerplayerwhohopestoplayprobutisalsogettingabusinessdegree.Apple—she’saleadreporterfortheCampusCommunityBulletin,theschoolnewspaper,andplanstogointopoliticaljournalism.Trixleigh—she’stheentertainmentchairofGammaLambdaKappaandplanstobealuxurypartyplanner.AndSerena—sheworksattheon-campusbookstoreandreadseveryday,everythingfromhistorytofantasy.”
IleaveoutthatIknowJaxxandTrixleighthroughBedroomHeavenbecausethat’snotpartofmyrolehereasdiscussionmoderatorandtheirbusinessis,frankly,theirbusinesstoshareornot.
“Chance,Evan,andIwillbepresentingtopicsandaskingquestionsmostly,onlysteppingintofurthertheconversationifneeded.Buttheplanisforthetenofyoutodomostofthetalking.Questions?”
Alltenofthemstaysilentorshaketheirheads,andIhaveamomentofabjectterrorthatthisisgoingtobeanhourofustryingtopullwordsfromtheirzippedlips.IshootEvanandChancealook,butthey’redoingwhatappearstobetheirusualpre-podcastchecklist.
BeforeIknowit,theintromusicstarts.
Showtime.
“Welcome,everyone,toaveryspecialepisodeofTwoMenandaMic,”Evansays,staringintohiscamerasetupbyhiscomputerandintroducingthings.“I’mEvanWhite,andtonightwehaveaspecialepisodewe’recallingHeSaid,SheSaid.Tounderstandmore,here’smymainman,ChanceHarrington.Chance?”
“Thanks,Evan,andwelcome,everyone.Recently,weaddedastaffmembertoourrosterattheGentlemen’sClub.Thiswasanunusualoneforusbecause…she’sfemale.Butthat’sactuallywhywehiredher,tobringafreshperspectivetoourmembers.AndIhavetotellyou,she’smadeamazingprogress,bringinginsighttothingsfromtheothersideofthecoin.It’sgonesowellthatwethought…let’sexpandtheidea.Andnow,hereweare.MayIintroduceSamanthaRedding?”
There’snofakeapplausecliporanythinglikethat,butitfeelslikesomeonejustdirecteda1000-wattspotlightrightontome.
“Uhm,hi,everyone,”Isay,alittletooclosetothemicrophone.Itsquealswithloudfeedbackinresponse.Jerkingback,Ihiss,“Ooh!Sorry!”
“Gotcha,Samantha.Mybad,”Evansays,takingtheblameforwhatwassurelymyfault.
Fromareasonabledistance,Itryagain.“Hi.I’mSamantha.I’mapsychologystudentfocusingonthementalwellnessandphysicalsatisfactioninsideourmostintimaterelationships.”IreusethelanguagefromexplainingittoGrandmaBethbecauseitseemsthemostapproachable.
“Alrightthen,let’sgetstarted,”Evansays.
Herootsaroundinafishbowlfullofslipsofpaperwithtopicswrittenonthemandpullsoneout.“Okay,thetopicis…ooh,thisshouldbeinteresting.Beautystandards—maleversusfemale.”
It’saprettyopen-endedtopic,soI’mcurioustoseehowthisgoes.
Meliraisesherhand.“CanItakethisonefirst?”Whennooneobjects,shecannonballsintotheconversation.“TotalBS.Girlsareexpectedtobefembots—nohair,noodor,nofartingorburpingorbodilyfunctions.Gottabe‘ladylike’anddofullfaceandhairjusttogoinpublic.Butguyswalkaroundwithbeergutsout,dirtyhatsshovedondirtierhair,andfeetthathaven’tseenanailclippersincetheirmommiesdidit,andthat’ssupposedtobefine.”Sheleansinclosetothemicrophone,eyeingtheguysanddaringthemtodisagree.“Again,totalBS.”
Lucasisfirsttoargue,ofcourse.“Dude,you’reliterallysittingherewithnomakeupon!AndIknowenoughtoknowthatunderthosesweatpants…youhaven’tshavedyourlegsoryoursnatch.I’vegotsisters.Iknowwhatsweatsmean.”HelookstoEvanquickly.“CanIsaysnatch?”
Evanwaveshimon,likewe’relive,what’rewegonnadoaboutitnow?Andwhatelseishegonnacallitbecauseevenscientificwordscangetapodcastflagged,sowemightaswellcarryon.
Trixleighlaughs,lookingatMeliclosely.“Imean,don’tgetmewrong,IwearmakeupbecauseIlikeit,butdoyouseriouslythinkshe’sbarefacedrightnow?”Sheleansin,puttinghercontoured,blushed,andhighlightedcheeknexttoMeli’s,which,thoughsubtlymadeup,isdefinitelynotnaked.
“Whichprovesmypoint,”Melicontinues.“Guyssaytheylikea‘naturalmakeup’andthenwillpointtoawomanwithfifteenproductsonherface,mostofwhichjusthappentobesomeshadeofbrown.Thisismymake-uplook,becauseIusuallywearitonthefield,whichisridiculousbutexpectedsothatwelookgoodinanystillframes.I’vegotwaterproof,sweatproof,bulletproofmakeuponlockdown.Whenwasthelasttimeyouhadacoachtellyouputonmascarabeforeagame,Lucas?”
Heblinks,nothavingananswer.“Seriously?”hefinallyasks.WhenMelinods,hefrowns.“That’smessedup.Iusuallygetremindedtotriple-knotmyshoes,butthat’sasuperstition,notforaphotoop.”
Inearlyhaveaheartattackatthemomentofclarityhe’shaving.Growthinprogress,liveinaction!
Tylerpipesup.“It’snotonlywomenwhohaveexpectations,though.Imean,whataboutMagicMike?Itmademillions.Andgirlsalwayswantsomemuscled-upjock,right?”HelookstoLucasforagreement,andI’madmittedlynervousaboutLucas’sreaction.IhopeEvancanbleepoutsomecursewordsbecauseLucasmightletthemflyatTyler’sreminder.
Lucashasmadesomeprogress,bothinclassandinacoupleofcounselingsessionswithme,buthe’sstillhunguponagirlhelikedchoosinga‘muscled-upjock’overhim,exactlyhowTyler’ssuggesting.Lucassniffs,gnashinghisteethsohardthatIwonderifEvanwillbeabletohearthatonthemics.Buthedoesn’tsayawordandstaresstraightahead,thoughIdon’tthinkhe’sactuallyseeinganythingotherthanhisownanger.
SerenatellsTyler,“Isawthesamememe,man.ButShrekmadefourtimesasmuch.Womenlikedadbodstoo.Hell,ifhetreatsmeright,I’dtakeno-bod,likeasentientbraininajarthatcanmakemelaugh,tellsmeI’mprettywhenIfeeldown,andoffersintelligentconversation.”Itsoundsliketheplotfromafantasynovel…LoveAtTheLab
“SoI’mbeingreplacedbyAInow?”Enzodeadpans.
Ileanintothemicrophone,“Onthistopic,I’mhearingthatsocietalstandardscreateasenseofpressure.Thatwomenfeelaneedtobe‘perfect’,andformen,the‘protector’mindsetstillholdstrue,whereyoubelievethatyouhavetobethestrongesttobeattractive.Notfallingintothosestereotypesleavesthevastmajorityofusfeelingoutsidethebeautystandard.”
Wheneveryoneagreesoratleastseemstonotwanttospeakonthattopicanymore,Evanpullsanotherslipofpaperfromthefishbowl.
Wedoitoverandover,thetopicssometimesgettingacursoryanswerfrombothgroups,butmoreoften,theconversationgettingheatedandpersonal.
“It’shardtoworkupthecouragetoapproachsomeone,”Stephensaysonthetopicofgettingtoknowpeople.
Jaxxsneers.“Yeah,butyouwalkingallthe…wayovertome,”shedragsitoutlikethedistancebetweenpointAandpointBmightaswellbemilesandnotsimplyacrosstheroom,“topopoffwithsomestupidopeneraboutmyeyesdoesn’twarrantmefallingatyourfeet.Iknowmyworth,andnoteveryone’sworthmytime.Justbecausetheyspewtrashdoesn’tmeanIhavetodigthroughthegarbagetofindthetreasure.”
“I’mnotgarbage,”Stephensaystightly.
“Notyou-you,Imeanthegeneral-you,”Jaxxexplains,gesturingattheworldatlarge.
AnthonyjumpsinatStephen’sback,tellingJaxx,“ThelistofthingswrongwiththatislongerthanaCVSreceipt.”
“What’swrongisthatyoupretendtocareuntilyougetoff,thenyou’reall‘heybros,baggedanotherone,huh-huh-huh’,whileshe’sleftfeelinglikecrapbecauseshethoughtyouactuallygaveashhhhi—”Applestopsherselfabruptly,lookingaroundandrealizingthatshe’srevealedtoomuch.
Lucasgrinsdevilishly.“Ah,didyourpoorwittleheartgetbrokenbecauseyouspread‘emtoosoon?Didn’tyourmommatellyouhewon’tbuythecowifhegetsthemilkforfree?”
“I’mnotacow,”Applesnaps.
Stephenleansforward.“AndI’mstillnottrash.”
“Mooooo,”Lucasbellows.
“Lucas!”Chancegrowls.“Enough.”
Unfortunately,weseemtohavecrossedaline,andthingsdevolvefromthere.
“Menhaveneeds?”Trixleighsputters.“Womenhaveneedstoo!Butdidyoudoanythingtomeetthem?Cuzifnot,shecangetbetterthanyouwith$49.99andaUSBcharger.”
And…
“That’sdifferent?Youmeanlikeyourrightandlefttit?”TylertellsApple,wholooksonthevergeoftears.
And…
“Helicopteringyourdickisn’tforeplay!”Melideclares.
And…
“Mygrandmaalwayssaid,hoolies’llhooliganifyougivethemasecondchance.Trywalkingawaythefirsttimehecheats,”Enzosays.
Wefinishofftheshow,whichislouderandmoreargumentativethanIeverexpecteditwouldbe.Honestly,Idon’tthinkwe’vebuiltabridge.Ifanything,bothsidesspendthelasthalfoftheshowtossingverbalhandgrenadesbackandforth.
Finally,ourtime’sup,andEvanleansforwardagain.
“Wow,I’dliketosaythankyoutoourgueststoday.Iknowthiswashard,andthere’satonofhurtfeelingsrightnowonallsidesoftheroom,”hestatesneedlessly,consideringtheglaresgoingacrossthetable.
“Yeah,thankyou,eachofyou,forhavingthecouragetoparticipate.Mightnothavebeentheresultswewerehopingfor.NobodysangasingleverseofKumbaya,”Chancejokes,tryingtolightenthemoodbecausethere’smoresteaminthisroomthaninamaxed-outsauna.“Butabattlethat’sbeengoingonforgenerationscertainlyisn’tgoingtobesettledinonehour.Idohopethoughthatwe’rewalkingawaywithagreaterunderstandingofwhatothersmightseeandthink,andmaybethat’sthefirstseedinthiswholething.”
Evansays,“I’dliketoespeciallythankSamanthaReddingforworkingonthisspecialpodcastwithme.Ithinkwemightneedadrinkafterthisone.”
“You’rebuying,”Iquip,knowingthatatmost,he’llbuymeasodafromthevendingmachineandwriteitoffontheclub’staxes.
Beingagoodsport,helaughs.
“I’mEvanWhite—”
“AndI’mChanceHarrington,andthishasbeen…”
“TwoMenandAMic,”theysaysimultaneously.
Evanhitsafewbuttonsbeforedeclaring,“Andwe’reout.”Inresponse,weallsag,whooshesofexhalesreleasingaroundthetable.
Afteramoment,Anthonylaughs.“Thatwasfun!Canwedoitagainnextweek?”
“Fun?”Jaxxechoesincredulously,andwhenAnthonygrinswider,sheadds,“You’vegotastrangeideaoffun.”
“Notenoughhumansacrificeandbloodlettingforyou,PrincessGoths-A-Lot?”heteases.“Wecouldfindyousomeifyouneedahit.”Theofferisaccompaniedbyaslaptohisinnerelbowlikehe’spreppingtohaveablooddrawforherentertainment.
Jaxxbaresherteethandhisseslikealiteralcat.“Don’tinvitewhatyou’renotpreparedtohandle,Toro.”
Arethey…flirting?Afterallthathorrifying,dramaticcraziness,aretheyactuallyflirtingwithoneanother?
Peoplearesoweird,andIloveit.IfIcouldsneakilytellEvantostartfilmingagain,IwouldsothatIcananalyzetheirinteractionlater.
Butthey’renotserious,andpeoplestarttoleave,StephenofferingtoshowtheladiestothefrontdoorwhileEvan,Chance,andIresetthestudiospace.
Ipickupaboxofmicrophones,takingthemtothewalk-inclosetnextdoorforstorage.IfindthespacewhereEvanhasclearly-labeledtheshelf‘microphones’andsettheboxdown.WhenIturnaround…
“Aah!”Iscream,throwingmyhandsup.Ifthechoicesarefight,flight,orfreeze,I’mafightereverytime.
Lucasisstandinginthedoorway,hiseyeswideandhandsheldoutinsurprise.“Whatthehell?”
EvanandChancerushup,lookingpanicked.“What’sgoingon?”Chancedemands,ping-pongingsteelyeyesfrommetoLucas.
Pantingtocatchmybreath,IwaveChanceoff,seeinghowworkedupheisatmyfright.“It’sfine.Ididn’thearLucasbehindme,andwhenIturnedaround,Iwasstartled.”
“Shiiit,MissR!”Lucassays,holdingahandtohischestlikeIscaredhim.“Ijustwantedtoaskyouabout,uh…classthisweek.Sameday,sametimeasusual?”Lucasasks.
“Wha—?Uh,yeah,sameasalways,”Ianswerautomatically,notsurewhyhe’dbeaskingmethat.Heknowswhenclassisscheduled.
“Bet.Seeyathen,”hesays,dippingoutquickly.
Jimishustlingdownthehall,andIswearLucasshoulderbumpshimonpurposeeventhoughheapologizestotheoldman.
“Whathahell’r’yahollerin’about?”Jimasks,lookingusover.
“Sorry.Everything’sfine,”Itellhim,reassuringallthreemenwithalaugh.“Ididn’thearhimandfreakedwhenIturnedaround.Justanold-fashionedjumpscare.It’sallgood.”
“You’resure?”Jimasks,notlookingcertain.
Inod,smilingatmyownoverreaction.Mostlyconvinced,EvanandJimwalkbacktowardthefrontofthebuilding,leavingmeandChanceinthestoragecloset.
“Thatwasaclusterfuck,”Itellhim,shiftingsubjects.“Theshow,Imean.”
Hestepsinclosertome,scantinchesbetweenusandourbreathmingling.“Idon’twanttotalkaboutthat.”
Inaninstant,theworryanddisappointmentovertheimportantpodcastdissipates,replacedwiththeheatIseeinChance’sblueeyes.“Whatdoyouwanttotalkabout,then?”Iask,flirtinghard.
“Ihaveplansforyou,”heanswers,hisvoicegoinghuskyanddeep.
Thepossibilitiesrunthroughmybrainlikeatickertapeoffilthyfun,andIwanttotryeverysingleone.“Anything.”
HemovessofastIdon’tseeit,hishandgoingtomythroatandsqueezingslightly.Mybreathhitchesandmycoregoesmolten.Ifhewantstohaveaquickierighthere,Idon’tthinkI’llbeabletosayno,foreitherofoursakes.“Chance,”Iwhisperhotly.
“You’regoingtobemysluttonight,”heinformsme.He’skeepinghisvoicedownbecauseofwhereweare,andthequietroughnessofhiswordsmakesthemthatmuchsexier.“I’mgoingtotakemytime,fuckingyouineverywayIcanthinkofandeverywayyourbodycanhandle.You’regoingtobecoveredinmycumwhenI’mdonewithyouandyou’regoingtoloveit.”
We’realwayssocarefulattheclubwhentherearepeoplehere.Halfofthefunistheteaseof‘Mr.Harrington’and‘MissRedding’andthestolenglancesandtouchesweshare,butnow,there’snoteasing,nobuild-up.ThisiscavemanChance,rawandpowerful,andthedangerofitbeingwhereandwhenweshouldn’tbehavethiswayisintoxicating.
“Please,”Ibegquietly.“Fuckmymouth,mypussy,myass…youcanhaveanythingyouwant.”
“Iwill,”hesayswithasex-filledsmile.“IjustwantedyoutothinkaboutitalldaylikeIam.”
Withthat,hestepsbackandadjustshiscockinhisslacks.Afteronelastheatedlookmyway,heresetshisentirebeing,hidingthebeastheiswithmebeneathlayersofrulesandbecominghisusualproperself.“Itwasn’taclusterfuck.Thosetopicsincitealotoffeelings,andthepeopletalkingaboutthemshowedthat.Youhelpedthemspeaktheirtruthandheartheotherside.Youwereamazing.Goodgirl.”
Hedisappearsintothehallway,andIthinkImelttothefloorinapuddleofgooeylust.CHAPTER26SAMANTHA
BySaturday,thepodcastisallbutforgotten.Oratleast,I’mtryingtopushitoutofmymind.Hopefully,lunchwithMomwillhelpwiththat.
“Haveagoodday,”ItellChanceashepressesakisstomyforehead.Althoughhisplaceisdefinitelymorecomfortable,wemakeitapointtostayatmyplaceoccasionally.Iteasehimthatsleepingoncheappolyestersheetskeepshimhumbleandhethreatenstogetmeaccustomedtohisrain-headshower.“Youhaveappointmentsallday?”
“Yeah,”hesays,hiseyesseemingfarawayforamoment,andIknowhe’scheckinghismentalcalendar.“WishIcouldgotolunchwithyou,though.”
“It’sokay.IthinkOliviawouldgonuclearifIshowedupwithadatetoo,soit’sprobablyforthebest,”Ireplywithashrug.
Today’slunchisamilestoneforMomandMarvin.They’reintroducingthekidstoeachother,soit’llbeMom,Marvin,Olivia,me,andMarvin’sson,Noah.
“AndIhaveacoupleofcounselingsessionsthisevening,soit’llbelate.MaybeIshould…”Iprompt,notwantingtooutrightaskifChancewantstoseemetonightbutobviouslywantingtoseehim.
“Cometomyplacefordinner?Yeah,youshould,”heanswersfirmly.“I’llhavesomethingreadyaroundeight?”
Iliftuptopressakisstohislips.“I’mhavingsteakandpotatoesforlunch,soifyouwanttodorabbitfoodfordinner,I’dbegameforthat.”
“Uh,bestillmyheart.”Hepressesadramatichandtohischestandrollshiseyeslikehe’sfainting.“Iamwearingoffonyou!MaybeI’llevengetagreenvegetableinyoutonight.”
“Idon’tneedacucumber.I’vegotplentyofbetteroptionslikeanice,bigeggplant,”Iteasesaucily,knowingthat’snotatallwhathemeant.Whenhemockglaresatmewitharaisedbrow,Ilaugh,“Okay,fine.Butnotasparagus.Anythingbutthat.”
Chanceoncemadebacon-wrappedasparagusforus,promisingIwasgoingtoloveit.Ididnot.Itwassobittereventhebaconcouldn’tsaveit,soIunwrappeditandonlyatethebacon.Meanwhile,hescarfeddownhisownplusmynakedasparagus.
“I’mthinkingroastedbrusselssprouts,”hesays.Ifighttokeepastraightface,IswearIdo,butheshakeshisheadatme,feigningannoyance.“I’llsprinklesomeparmesancheeseandoliveoilonthem.”
Inodhappilythen.“Oh,thatsoundsgood.”
Helaughsatme,swatsmyass,andsays,“Havefunatlunch.Stickto‘therapist’,not‘sister’,withOlivia.”
He’squotingbackmyownwordstome,myplanfortodaybeingtotreatOliviawithcalm,kindness,andpatience,notsnarkysiblingfighting.BecausewhiletodayisbigforMomandMarvin,it’sabigdealforOliviatoo.
“Iwill,”Ivow,mostlytomyself.
***
Theyoungmanwhoopensthedoorisridiculouslytall,railthin,andlaughingatsomethingsomeonemust’vesaidbeforeheturnedtheknob.“Hey,youmustbeSamantha.C’monin,”hesays,standingback.
“ThatmustmakeyouNoah?”Ianswerwithasmile.
“Allday,everyday,”hequipsback.Lookingoverhisshoulder,hecallsout,“Samantha’shere!”
“Hey!We’reinhere,”amalevoicesaysfromdeeperinthehouse.
IfollowNoahthroughthelivingroom,whichissimpleandwarmwithadeepgraycouch,afewredthrowpillows,andwhitecurtains,andintothekitchen
IknowinstantlythatthemanattheislandisMarvin,notbecauseit’shishousebutbecauseofwhatMomhassaidabouthim.He’swearinganapronthatproclaimsMr.GoodLookin’IsCookin’,haswarm,darkeyes,andisdoingsomesortofarm-wavingdancemoveashesprinklesseasoningonatrayofmeat.He’stheepitomeoffun,happy,andwelcoming,saying,“Hey,Samantha!I’dgiveyouahellohug,butI’mgivingthesesteakswhat-for.”Withthat,hedramaticallysmacksoneofthesteaks,rubbingthespicesin.“Ungh,ungh,takethat,andthat.”
Ilaughathis‘fight’asMomleavesherstationatthestovetocomeoverandgivemeaside-hug.“Hey,honey.Gladyoucouldmakeit.Lunch’llbereadyinabouttwentyminutesifMarvin’dputthosethingsonthegrill.”
“Can’trushperfection,baby.Takestimetogetitjustright,”heanswers,tossingawinkherway.AsMomgoesbacktothestove,Marvinholdshischeekout,andsheplacesaquickkisstoit.“Ooh!Yesma’am,putalittlesugar-sweetonit!”
Momblushes—actuallyblushes—asshestirsthepotofwhatevershe’scooking.Shetriestohideit,butIcouldseeherpleasedsmilefromouterspace.
Momishappy.AndIcouldn’tbehappierforher.
“I’llgrabthepotatoesfromthegrilltomakeroomforthesteaks,Dad,”Noahsays,goingoutthebackdoor.
“Thanks,Son!”
IseeOliviasittingatthekitchentable,staringatherphone,andwonderifshe’sbitchingabouttheannoyingoldpeopletoherfriends.They’reallhappyandhelpingeachother.Ugh.
“Hey,whatchadoing?”
Shecutshereyesawayfromthescreentome,andIcanseetheflatnessthere.“MissingapoolpartyatAxel’shouse,”shesaysforlornly.
“Thatguyisafrog’shairawayfromprison,Olivia,”Momwarns.“Itoldyoutostayawayfromhim.”
Mysisterrollshereyeshardandgoesbacktoherphone.
Grabbingthestackofplatesfromthecounter,Imovetosetthetable.It’stheleastIcandosincethecooking’swellinhand.PlacingaplatebesideOlivia,Icanseethatshe’sflippingthroughInstagrampicturesofabunchofteenagersatapool.“Who’sAxel?”Iaskquietly.
“Adelinquent,apparently,”sheanswersdryly.WhensheseesthatI’mglancingatthepictures,sheshutsthephoneoffandsetsitface-downonthetable.“Everheardofinvasionofprivacy?”
Sheshootsmealookofdisdain,andiflookscouldkill,I’dbesixfeetunderalready.
“Sorry,”Iapologize,thoughI’mnotreallysorryconsideringwhatIjustsaw.“IsheasbadasMomsays?Surely,he’snotevenoldenoughtogotoprison.Juvie,maybe.”I’mtryingtomakeitalightthing,butI’mcuriousbecausetheguyIsawinthepictureswasshotgunningabeerandhadtattoosonhisneckandchest.Idon’tcareaboutthetattoosotherthanknowingyouhavetobeovereighteentogetone,butIdefinitelycareaboutthebeerbecausemysisterissixteen.
“He’snineteen,”shesneersasifthat’sagoodthing.
I’monMom’sside,onethousandpercent.There’sonlyonereasonnineteen-year-oldmenflirtwithsixteen-year-oldgirls…andmysisterdeservesbetter.
“Olivia!Areyouforreal?”Istareinopen-mouthedshockather,butsheglaresbacklikeshe’sbeingcompletelyreasonableandI’mtheoverreactor.“Letmeguess,hesaysyou’re‘mature’,‘notlikeothergirls’,andyoushouldn’tlistentoMombecauseshedoesn’tunderstandyoulikehedoes?It’slikeadamnscriptwiththeseguys.”
Ididn’trealizehowloudI’dgotten,butMomandMarvinhavegonesilent,justwatchingus.“I’mgonnathrowtheseonthegrill,”Marvinsays,givingussomeprivacy.“Beoutback.”
Whenit’sthethreeofus,Momsays,“Itriedtotellher,butnobodywantstohearnegativestuffaboutsomeonetheylike.”
Idon’tthinkwe’reonlytalkingaboutAxelanymore.
MomisconstantlyhavingtoadjustOlivia’sexpectations—aboutDad,andnow,aboutAxel.
“Itdoesn’tmatteranymore,”Oliviasays,lashingout.“Ronipostedthatthey’redatingnow.Thanks,Mom,bombingrelationshipsleftandright,aren’tya?YouandDad,meandAxel.It’sonlyamatteroftimeforyouandMarvin.”
IseethesharppaininMom’seyes.Sheusuallyshuttersitbehindmaternalcare,butIthinkmysister’spushedtoofarthistime.
“That’senough,Olivia,”Momsnaps.“I’mdoneapologizingforthedivorce.IdideverythingIcouldforaslongasIcould,damnnearkillingmyselfinamisguidedattempttobewhatyourfatherwanted.ButIwasnevergonnabeyounger,blonde,andlookuptohimlikehe’ssomesortofgodwhenI’dspentthelasttwentyyearsmakinghisdinner,pickinguphisdirtytowelsoffthebathroomfloor,andnagginghimtodothebareminimumforyougirls.Let’sbereal,hehadn’tsomuchasboughthisownunderwearorpouredabowlofcerealsincehewasincollege.Andhesureashelldidn’trememberyourbirthdaysorplanasinglefamilyvacation.Allthosechildhoodmemoriesyouwanttoreplaylikehedidsomething?”
TearsareflowingdownMom’scheekssteadilyasshesays,“Ididit…forhim,foryou,forSamantha.Andifyoucan’tseethat,I’msorry.ButIdeservetobehappy,andnow,Iam.”
Mompointsatthebackdoor,whereMarvinsteppedouttotheporch.“Withamanwho’snothinglikeyourfather.Marvinwantstobemypartner,wantstotakecareofmewhenIneeditandappreciatesitwhenItakecareofhim.Hemakesmelaugh,caresifIhadagoodday,andunderstandsthatI’malittlemessedupaftereverythingI’vebeenthroughandgivesmespacetohaveafreak-outinthemiddleofanicefamilylunch!”
Thelastbitbordersonhysterical,butmostly,I’msofuckingproudofMom.She’sbeenstuffingdownherfeelingseverytimeOliviasaiduglythingsandblamedherforthedivorce,lettingthemfester,andit’stimetodredgethemupandtimeforOliviatostopactinglikeapetulantchild.
IhandMomanapkin,andshewipesatherbloodshoteyes.WhenOliviadoesn’tsayanythinginresponse,Momsighsandsays,“I’mgoingtogoapologizetoMarvinandNoah,andwecangohome.Iguessit’stoosoonforthis.”
Shepushesbackfromthetable,givesmeanapologeticlook,andstepsoutback.Throughthewindow,IcanseeherfallintoMarvin’swaitingarms.Herocksbackandforth,comfortingher.
“Doyouthinkshe’sright?”Olivia’seyesaredowncasttoherlapwhereshe’spickingathercuticles.IthinkifIaskedherifshesaidsomething,she’dprobablytellmenoandthatIwasimaginingit.
Exasperated,Isigh.“AboutDad?Ofcourse.Momdidliterallyeverythingforourfamily.PTA,homework,shopping,cooking,cleaning,payingthebills,makingsureweweren’tferal,takingcareofus,andIdon’tevenknowwhatelse.Butyeah,she’sright.”
“No,Imean…aboutMarvin?”Olivia’seyeslift,andshelooksatmethroughthecurtainofherhair.“Ishe…Idunno,differentthanDad?”
Thatbringsmeupshort.MomandItalkedaboutthepossibilitythatOliviawastryingtobeprotectiveinatwistedway,buthonestly,I’dkindawrittenthatoffconsideringhowbitchyandaccusatoryshe’sbeen,especiallyaboutMom.Butmaybe…
“Idon’treallyknowhim,”Iadmit.“I’veonlymethimforafewminuteslikeyou,butitsoundslikeheis.Iknowthathe’sbeenasingleparentforawhile,andNoahseemshappy,sothat’sagoodsign.Hecancookandclean,”Isay,pointingatthehousearoundus,“andMomwassmilinganddancingwithhim,sohemakesherhappytoo.Andnow…”Ilookoutthewindowagain.“He’stakingcareofher.”
ItakeOlivia’shand,stoppingherfrommakinghercuticlebleed.“Soyeah,Ithinkhe’sdifferent.Allguysaren’tthesame.Allguysaren’tDad.”
I’mtalkingaboutMarvin,butIthinkaboutChancetoo.He’snothinglikemydadeither.Chanceiskind,generous,andcaressomuchforothersthathe’sdedicatedhislifetotheguysintheclub.He’sfun,smart,andmakesmefeelspecial.Everydayisbetterwithhiminit.
Ilovehim.
Thethoughtisheavy,notwithfearbutwithexcitement,andforthefirsttime,IthinkImightbeabletoletsomeoneinsidemywalls.
He’salreadythere,Irealize.Hesnuckin,littlebylittle,andhasbeenthereforawhile.Ijusthadn’tadmittedit,eventomyself.
“Okay,”Oliviasays,noddingtoherself.“IfyouandMomsayso,I’mokaywithMarvin.ButIreservetherighttosayItoldyousoifhe’sanassholetoo.”
Shesmiles,thesadnessstartingtofade,andforamoment,Icanseethesweet,innocentgirlsheoncewas.Theonestillhidingdeepinadarkwellofdistrustandfear.Theonethatlooksalotlike…me.
“Deal,”Isay,speakingonbehalfofbothMomandme.“Youthinkwecanstayforlunch,then?”
“Yeah,Iguess.”Olivialooksoutthewindow,andIcanseethemomentshegetsembarrassedaboutthiswholescene.“Oh,myGod,”shegasps,herjawdroppingopeninhorror.
“It’sokay,”Ireassureher.“Youfixthedrinks.Thelemonade’srightthere.AndI’llgeteveryonetothetable.Hopefully,oursteaksaren’thockeypucksbecauseI’mhavingbrusselsproutsfordinner.”AtOlivia’squestioninglook,Ilaugh.“Justdothelemonade.”
Outback,ItellMom,“Ithinkwe’regood.AslongasMarvinisn’tsecretlylookingforasugarmommasohecansitaroundanddonothing.”
Marvinlaughsloudly.“Hellno,I’mtoobusyforthat.”
“What’sasugarmomma?”MomlooksfrommetoMarvinblankly.
ButI’mnotexplainingthattoherbecausethatconversationwillsegueintosugardaddiesandsugarbabies,sono,thankyouverymuch.“AskGooglelater.Fornow,Olivia’spouringthelemonadesowecanhavelunch.”
“Really?”Momaskswithheartspracticallyinhereyes.
“Really.”
***
“Hey,Jim,here’syourcinnamonroll,”ItellhimasIentertheclub.“It’snotexactlythedinnerofchampions,butIdidn’tthinkyou’dmind.”
Hetakesthebagfrommehappily.“Well,it’sgonnabethedinnerofthischampion,that’sforsure.Thanks,Samantha.”
“You’rewelcome.I’mherewithcounselingsessions‘tillclosetonight,sodon’tforgetaboutme.”
“Nevah,”hemumblesaroundamouthfulofooey,gooeycinnamongoodness.“Lemmeknowifyouneedmetoknockaroundoneoftheseknuckleheads.”
IgrinasIheadbacktothemeetingroom.Jimplaysthegruff,‘getoffamylawn’partwell,butyoucantellhereallycaresabouttheguyshere.Chanceaskedhimagainaboutdoingacarmaintenanceclass,andthoughhestillsaidno,itwasalotless‘hellno’andlittlemore‘we’llsee’.Notaslamdunk,butIthinkChance’llwearhimdowneventuallyandtheclubwillbebetterforit.
MyfirstsessioniswithTyler.I’mexcitedtogettoknowhimbetterbecauseotherthanthepodcast,Ihaven’tspentmuchtimewithhim.Hehasn’tevencometooneofmyclassesyet.
“Hi,Tyler,youready?”IaskwhenIfindhimalreadyintheroom.
“Iguess.Lucassaysyou’reprettycoolorwhatever,”heanswers.
Thecompliment,flippantasitmaybe,fromLucasisunexpected.Halfthetime,Ithinkhe’stheantagonisttomyprotagonistattheclubandChance’sadversaryinaction.
“Areyoutwofriends?”
“Yeah,we’vebeenbrosforabit.Weplayballtogethersometimes.That’showhegotmedownheretotheclub—thecourtoutback.”
“Oh,it’saprettycoolspace.There’sthecourt,aturfarea,someheavyweights,andoneofthosebigtractortirestoflip.Doyouworkoutalot?”
It’sababystepintoconversation,givinghimtimetogetcomfortabletalkingwithmeaboutwhatever’sbroughthiminforacounselingsession,anditworks.ThetimepassesquicklybecauseTyler’sanopenbook,tellingmeabouthisclassesandhopesforpost-collegeaseasilyastellingmeabouthishomelife,whichwasn’tthehappyfamilyitappearedtobe.
“Idon’tknowifI’lleverfindagirl,”heconfesses.“Myhead’sallmessedupwith‘bethis,dothis,that’snotallowed’ononesideandwhatIwantontheother,yaknow?OrwhatIthinkIwant.”
“There’snorush.Takeyourtimetoexamineeverythingyouthinkaromanticrelationshipshouldbe—whatyourparentstoldyou,societytellsyou,yourhearttellsyou.Someofit,you’lltrashinstantly.Someofitwilltakesomedeeperreflection.Andsomeofitwillfeelright.”Iplacemyhandovermyheart.“Giveyourselftime.”
Wewrapup,andTylerthanksmeforlistening.“That’swhatI’mherefor,”Isaywithasmile.“I’mhappytotalkagain,andI’dlovetoseeyouinclass.”
Heleaves,ImakeafewquicknotesinmyfilessothatIcantrackTyler’ssessions.I’mmid-typewhenathroatclears.
IlookuptofindStephen.He’smynextappointment.“Hey,Stephen!Comeonin.I’mjustfinishingthisup.”
Ashesits,Iclicksaveonmyphoneandsetitonthetablebesideme.“How’reyoudoing?”
“Notsogreat,”heconfessessullenly.
“I’msorrytohearthat.What’shappening?”
“IthoughtImetsomeonegreat,butturnsout,she’sawhoreliketherestofthem.”
Whoa.ThatisnotlikeStephenatall.
He’susuallysmiling,helpful,andfriendly,occasionallymoreofthequiettype,buthe’sbeenmakinghugestridesinhisconfidence.Butrightnow?Hesoundsangry,sad,andresentful.
Keepingmyfaceblank,Isay,“Okay,canyoutellmemoreaboutthat?”CHAPTER27CHANCE
Finishingupdinner,Ichecktheclock.Mytiming’sperfect.Samanthashouldbehereanyminute.Ican’twaittohearaboutlunchwithherMomandOlivia.Ihopeitwentwell.
Iputthesheetpaninthewarmingoven,givingthemixofturkeysausage,carrots,andbrusselssproutsashake.It’sanewrecipeanditsmellsdelicious.Tome,atleast.ForSamantha,IbalancedoutthequestionablebrusselssproutswithsausageandcarrotssinceIknowshelikesthose.
Dinnerisgoingtobegreat.Andthenafterisgoingtobeevenbetter.ItalwaysiswithSamanthabecauseshekeepsitsofreshandexciting,whetherit’saquickie,alonglovemaking,oraroughfuck.Toysornotoys,filthylanguageorquietmoans,it’ssomehowdifferenteverytime,andIcan’tgetenoughofhersexybody,creativemind,andbeautifulspirit.
Sittingonthecouch,IpulloutmyphonetocheckthenewswhileIwaitforher.
Eighto’clockcomesandgoes,butI’mnotworried.HersessionsprobablyranlongorshegotcaughtuptalkingtoJimaboutsomethingorother.He’sincrediblychattyforaguywhoclaimstonotlikepeople.
Ateightthirty,Isendheratext.
Hey!Dinner’sreadywhenyouare.
Atnineo’clock,Icallheranditringsandrings,eventuallygoingtovoicemail.
“Hey,uh…justcheckingin.Wesaideighto’clockfordinner,right?Areyoustillwithoneoftheguys?Callme.”
Byninethirty,I’vedecidedthatlunchwithherMomwentawfulandshe’shomedealingwiththefallout.Orthat,forsomereason,she’sghostingme.Orthatherphonediedandshe’llbehereanyminute.
Orthatshe’sdonewithme.
That’sthethoughtthatkeepscomingback,overandover.Iknowshe’sskittish.Maybesomethinghappenedtodaythatmadeherrealizehowdeepwe’vegottenandshe’srunningscaredlikeIknewshewould.
ButIdeserveaphonecallatleast.
IknowI’mgoingtolooklikeanidiot,butIcan’thelpit.Ineedtoknow,soIgetinmycaranddrivetoherapartment.Andnow,I’mhere,knockingonSamantha’sdoor,tryingnottolooklikeapsychopath.“Samantha?Samantha,ifyou’reinthere,weneedtotalk.”
Noanswer.Huntingaround,Ifindtheloosetileinthefa?adeaboveherdoor,pullingitouttorevealhersparekey.SkippinganyinternalthoughtsaboutthefactthatI’mtechnicallybreakingintoherapartment,Iunlockthedoorandslipinside.
Nobody’shome.There’salightonbyheroldsofaandwhatlookslikeapairofpajamapantskickedoffinthemiddleofthefloor,butthat’sit.
Therearenodirtydishesinthekitchenandnothingtotellmewhereshemightbe.Confused,Ipulloutmyphoneanddialhernumberagain.“Hey,Samantha,I’matyourapartment,lookingforyou.Callme,please.”
Ihangupandlookaroundlikeshemightjumpoutofhidingandsay,“Getthefuckoutofhere!”Butthere’snowheretohideinhertinyplace.
IfIhadhermother’snumber,I’dcallthere—nottobecreepyandstalker-y,buttomakesureshe’sokay.AndwhileIdon’thaveSusan’snumber,IdohaveLuna’s.
Toofargonetoworryabouthowdesperateitlooks,IcallLuna.
“Hello?”
“Hey,Luna…it’sChance.HaveyoutalkedtoSamanthatoday?”Iaskasonerun-onsentence.
“What?Uhhh,no?”sheanswersslowly.Luna’snotaverygoodliardespitethewaysheandmybrothergottogether.
“I’matherplace,andshe’snothere.Shewon’tanswermycalls—”
“Didyoubreakintoherapartment?”Lunasquawks.
Angrily,Ispillmyguts,“She’srunning,Igetit,butIneedtoknowshe’sokay.Iloveher.Youknowthat.Don’t…don’tmakemebeg.Ijustneedtoknowwheresheis.”Iswallowthicklyandshout,“Luna!Tellme!”
“Whatthefuck,man?Why’reyouyellingatmywife?”Carterdemandsinthebackground.
Snarlingatthedelay,Itellhimharshly,“Notimetoexplain.Ineedtoknowifshe’stalkedtoSamanthatoday.”
“Today?Luna’sbeenhead-downinAlphena-landallday.Shedidn’teventalktome,muchlessSamantha,”Cartersays,comingintotheforegroundofthephonecall.“Why?”
“Seriously?Shehasn’ttalkedtoher?”Irepeat.
Concernisstartingtoniggleattheedgesofmymind.IfSamanthaispanicking,she’dgotoLunafirst.
“No,shehasn’t.Whendidyoutalktoherlast?”Carterasks.
“Thismorning,”Ianswer,mythoughtsracing.“Shewashavinglunchwithhermomandsisterandthengoingtotheclubforafewappointments.Weweresupposedtohavedinnertogetherhoursago.”
Anideastrikesme.
“Hangon,letmecheckthealarmsystem.IcanseewhattimeJimsetit.Samanthawould’veleftaroundthentoo.”
Iclickintotheappforthealarm.Inthebackground,IcanhearLunatellingCarter,“Whatifshe’sinaditchsomewherealongtheway?Weneedtogocheck.”
I’mabouttoagreewithLunawhenIseesomethingweird.
“Huh,that’sstrange.Jimhasn’tsetthealarmyet,andheneverforgets.Letmecalltheclub.”
“Okay,butcallusrightbackeitherway,”Carterinstructs.“Luna’spanickingnowtoo.”
Idialtheclubmainlineandgettheautomatedmessagingsystemweuse.IpresszerotogetthefrontdeskwhereJimsitsandwait.
Ring.Ring.Ring.Ring.Ring.
Everyunansweredringmakesthehairsonthebackofmyneckstandhigher.Something’swrong,Icanfeelitinmybones.
IcallCarterandLunabackquickly.“Hey,there’snoanswer.I’mgoingovertherenow.”
“We’llmeetyouthere,”Carteranswers,notwaitingtobeasked
Imeantosaythanks,ormaybeIdosayit.AllIknowisthatI’minmycar,drivingasfastasIcantotheclub.Speedlimitsbedamned.Rules,don’tgiveashit.Laws,fuckoff.
IneedtogettoSamantha.
Ipulluptotheclubinminutesandamsurprisedtoseetwocarsstillinthelot.OneisJim’s,oneisSamantha’s.
Ahorrifyingthoughtpopsintomymindunbidden.
CouldJimhavedonesomethingtoSamantha?Shealwaystalksabouthowguysaretwo-faced,actingfriendlyandnon-threatening,andthenturning.JimhascertainlybefriendedSamantha.It’salwaysseemedpaternal,butmaybeImissedsomething?Isheawolfinsheep’sclothing?
There’sacoldpitinmystomachasIthrowthecarinparkandrunforthefrontdoor.Itopenseasily,whichitshouldn’tdo.Itshouldbelocked,justlikethealarmshouldbearmed,butneitherhavebeendone.
“Samantha!Jim!”Iyell,andmyvoiceechoesbacktomeintheemptyspace.
“Unnnngh…”Agroansoundsoutfromthefarsideofthedesk.
Runningthatdirection,IseeJimonthefloor.“Oh,myGod,Jim!Whathappened?”
He’stryingtomove,buthisfaceiscontortedinpainandhisjawislockedtight.“Sa…man…tha…”hestuttersout.
Irealizehe’stryingtopointdownthehallandsprintthatway.
“No,no,no,no…”Isayoverandover.Idon’tknowwhatI’msayingnoabout,butnothingcanhavehappenedtoher.Ineedhertobeokay.“Samantha!”
Intheroomsheholdshersessionsin,Ispyherphoneandbagonthetable.Butit’sotherwiseempty.NoSamantha.
RunningbacktoJim,IfindCarterandLunastandingnexttohimandmyotherbrothersandKaylacomingin.
“What’reyoudoinghere?”Isay,butIdon’twaitforananswer.“Jim!Whathappened?”
“I’vealreadycalled9-1-1,”Kaylasays.“HekeepssayingSamanthaandIthinkStephen?Ormaybeit’sSamStephen?Idon’tknow,he’sslurringprettybadly.”
“That’showhealwaystalks,”ItellherasIdropclosertohim,turningmyeartowardhismouthsoIcanlistencarefully.“Sayitagain,Jim.Whowashere?”
“Sa-me-than,”hemumbles.
“See?Doesthatmakesensetoyou?”Kaylaasks.
Confused,Isay,“Stephen?Theymight’vehadacounselingappointment?Idon’tknowherschedule.”
Jimmakesanoise,andCameronkneelsdown,placingahandonhisshoulder.“Trytobequiet.Help’sontheway.Ithinkyou’rehavingaheartattack.”
ButJim’snothavingit.Hetakesabigbreath,thepaincausinghisleftshouldertoliftupalmosttohisear.“Stun.Gun.Took.Her.”
There’sabeatwhereweallhearwhathesaidwithoutprocessingit,andthen…
IgetrightinJim’sface.Nosetonose,Ilookinhiseyes.“StephentookSamantha?Hestungunnedyou?Isthatwhatyou’resaying?”Idemandurgently.
Despitethepain,he’sclear-eyedandfightstonod.“Triedtostophim.”
“Oh,myGod,”Lunagasps.
Therealityofthesituationhasbecomesomuchworse.Samanthaisn’tmissing.She’sbeenkidnapped.
“I’mcalling9-1-1backtoletthemknowweneedthepolice,”Kaylasays
“I’llcallhermom,”Lunasays.
Thisismyfault.Ibroughtherheretohelptheseguys,toldhershe’dbesafewhenshewarnedmethatthere’snosuchthing,andexposedhertoathreatnoneofussawcoming.Andnow?
Idon’tknowwheresheis.Idon’tknowhowtosaveher.
“Samantha,”Iwhisper,theheavyweightofguiltandfearshatteringmyheartinmychest.
Coleslapstheshitoutofme,hispalmsendingmyfaceflyingsidewaysasthesmackechoesinthehallway.“Notimeforthatrightnow.Pullittogether,man.TellusaboutStephen.Whywouldhedothis?Wherewouldhego?Think.”
Ifuckingneededthat.
Refocused,mybrainstartsspinning.“He’saniceguy,oneoftheactualniceguys…Ithought…”
***
Samantha
“Wakey-wakey,”avoicesaysfromfaraway.
Myheadthrobs,andIwonderhowlongI’vebeenasleep.It’skindalikeoneofthosenapswhereyoumeantosleepfortwentyminutesbutwakeupthenextdaynotknowingwhatyearitis.
Butthisfeelsworsethanthat,andmybedfeelshardasarock,makingmywholebodysoreasItrytositupabit.
Iblink,tryingtoforcemyeyesopen,butit’sliketheywon’trespond.
SMACK!
Somethingslapsacrossmyfacehard,poppingmeinthecheekrightbelowmylefteye.“Ungh!”Igroanatthesharpflashofpain.Thatcutme,I’mcertain.Butitdoeshelpmegetmyeyestoflutteropenabit.
“Thereyouare,”ablurryfiguresays.
Thevoiceisfamiliar,butsomehownot.
“What…what’sgoingon?”Imumble.
NowthatI’vepriedmyeyesopen,IcanseearoundmeifIconcentratehardenough,butithurtsmyhead.Still,Iforcemygazetozeroinonthingsoneatatime.
I’minaroomthatlooks…unfinished?Aroundmeisrawdrywall,beneathmeisconcretesubfloor,andtherearetoolsanddusteverywhere.There’saworklightshiningcreepilyattheceiling,throwingshadowseverywhere.Theplacedoesn’tlookfamiliaratall.
Butthefaceofthemankneelinginfrontofmedoes.
“Stephen?”Isayinconfusion.“Something’swrong.Myhead—”
“Yeah,youhititprettyhardwhenyoufell.”
Hisvoiceisflatandemotionless,butforasplitsecond,Ithinkhe’sheretohelpme.Idon’trememberwhathappenedorhowIgothere,butStephenwillhelp.
Andthenitcomesbacktome..
Hewastalkingaboutagirlhelikesbeingblindtowhat’srightinfrontofher,choosingtogoaftertheassholewhotreatsherlikeshitinsteadofthegoodguyshecouldhave.Itwasanall-too-familiarstory,andI’dbeensympatheticatfirst.Buthekeptcallinghernames,hislanguagebeyondthepaleforanyone,butespeciallyoutofcharacterforhim.
Icalledhimonit,sayingthathernotseeinghimdoesn’tmakeherabitch.
Stephenhadstoodup,pacingtheroomangrilyandsayingIstilldidn’tunderstand.He’dsaidanacronymIhadn’tknown…
Whatwasit?
AWALT.Iaskedhimwhatitmeant.Allwomenarelikethat,hesaidwithaheavysigh.
Andthen…darkness.
Idon’tknowwhathedid,butIrealizethathedidthistome.Thethrobbingheadache,thedirtylocation,thebruiseIcanfeelbloomingonmycheek.
Theterrifyingrealityslapsmeinthefacealmostashardhedid.Ilookaroundwithneweyes,everythingathreatnow.
There’sabunchofmyBedroomHeaventoysonthefloornexttoStephen,andIrealizethat’swhathehitmewith.Hesmackedmewithoneoftheproductsthat’ssupposedtomakepeoplehappyandsatisfied.Buthittingmewithoneseemsliketheleasthurtfulthinghecoulddowiththosenow,andpure,hotfeardumpsintomybloodstream,coursingthroughmyveinsandclearingmyhead
WhenIlookathimagain,thecolddarknessinhiseyesisshocking.“Now,you’regettingit.You’rejustanotherbitch,leadinggoodguysaroundbythedickbecauseyou’vegotallthepowerbetweenyourlegsinthatcunt.Notanymore,Samantha.Now,you’remine.”
Ikickouthard,makingcontactwithhischest,butthoughhestutter-stepsback,hedoesn’tfallover.Hecatchesmyankle,andgrinningevilly,hesays,“Feisty.Ilikeit.AndIknowyoudotoo.”
He’supinaflash,draggingmeafewinchesuntilI’mflatonthefloorasIscream.“HELP!HEEEELP!”
I’mstillfighting,kickingwithmyfreelegandflailing,tryingtograbanythingIcanuseasaweapon.ButStephen’sbiggerandstrongerthanme,andwhenheclimbsoverme,sittingonmyhipswithhisfeetlockedovermythighsandhishandwrappedaroundmythroat,Ifreeze.
“Fuckingslut,youwantmyhandnecklace,don’tyou?”Hishandtightens,andit’snothinglikewhatChanceandIdoandisdefinitelynotanecklace.Stephenischokingme,hurtingme,wantingtopunishme.Igrabathisarm,scratchinghimashardasIcanasItrytopryhishandoff.“Don’ttrytodenyit,”hehisses.“Isawhimpushyouupagainstthewalllikethis.Younearlyfuckedhimrightthere.”
Ihavenoideawhathe’stalkingaboutandthen…
Afterthepodcast,inthestoragecloset,Chanceputhishandonmyneck,sandwichingmebetweenthewallandhim.Stephenmustseethememorycomingbacktomebecausehenods.“Yeah,thismouth,pussy,andassareminetoo.You’regivingitawayanyway.It’sallyou’regoodfor.”
Hedropsdown,tryingtokissme,andImanagetoturnmyheadthebarestbitsohislipsland,wetandsloppy,attheedgeofmylipsonmycheek.“No!Stephen,STOP!”
“Screamallyouwant,Samantha.Iknowit’safalseflag.I’maRedPillmannow.I’llgiveyouwhatyoureallywant,”hevows.
TheonlyreasonanyofthatmadealickofsenseisbecauseI’veheardChanceandEvantalkingtotheguysattheclub.EverywordStephenisspewingisJakeMcGibbonspropaganda.
Falseflag?McGibbonssaysit’swhenwomensayonethingbutmeananother.RedPill?It’sthebeliefthatwomenwantastrongAlphamaleforfuckingbutaBetatomatewith.It’ssomethrowbacktothered-pill/blue-pillthingfromtheMatrix,liketheredpillissupposedtobesomehardtruthtoacceptbutonceyoudo,you’refreefromtheillusionscreatedbysociety.
Isquirm,tryingtobumphisweightoffcenterwithajerkyliftofmyhips.Itdoesn’tworkexactlyasintended,butitdoesgetmeenoughspacetoscrambleaway.
“ThisisnotwhatIwant,Stephen,”Ishout,andIseehisbrowsknottogetherlikehe’sconfused.
“It’snot?”hesaysquietly.
I’mlookingforanexit,anywhereIcangotogetaway,andscanningforaweapon.Butmybestdefenseismymind.IknowStephen,orIdidbeforehewenthead-firstintoIncelterritory.
“No,IloveChance,”Itellhim.“Remember,inclass,wetalkedaboutcommunicatingwithyourpartner?ChanceandIdidthat.Westilldo,allthetime.”
He’sslowlysteppingtowardme,unconvinced,andI’mjustasslowlymovingbacktokeepthedistancebetweenus.“Hecalledyounames,wasrough…youlikedit.”
Inod,holdingmyhandsouttokeephimatbay.“BecauseItoldhimto,andIsaythingstohimtoo.Butothertimes,we’regentleandsweetandslow.Wemakelove.”
Tearsslipdownmyface.“Ilovehim,Stephen.IloveChance,andIthink…Ithinkhelovesmetoo.”
Stephen’sconfusionisgrowing,hiseyesjerkingleftandrightashetriestomakesenseofwhathe’sheardandwhatI’mtellinghim.
Itakeadvantageofhisdistraction…andrunformylife.CHAPTER28CHANCE
ThirtyMinutesAgo
“Sir,tellmeagain.WhodoyouthinktookMissRedding?”thepoliceofficerasksforprobablythefifthtime.
Thankfully,theambulancehasn’tleftwithJimyet.Hepullstheoxygenmaskdownandrasps,“StephenSimpson…six-two,one-ninety…brownhairandeyes.”Hestopstotakeahitfromthemask,obviouslyoutofbreath.“Drivesa’14ToyotaCorolla,silver,damageonthafrontrightcorner.Piece’ashit,couldn’t’vegonefar.”
Iblink,completelyunawarethatJimhadthattypeofdescriptionatthereadyforanyofus.
Theofficernods.“I’llputouttheinfo.Thanks,Delaney.”
Havingdonehispart,Jimputsthemaskbackonandsags.He’sdoingeverythinghecantohelp,butatwhatcost?He’sobviouslyunwell.“Thanks,Jim.Gotothehospital.We’llkeepyouupdated,”Isay,prayinghe’lllisten,buthe’stoughasoldleather,andIworryhe’llstayuntilhisheartcompletelygivesout.
Thankfully,theparamedicdoesn’tgivehimachoice.“Loading,”shecallsasecondbeforesheshovesthegurneyintotheambulance,notgivingashitwhetherJimisreadytogoornot.“Incomingwithcardiacarrhythmiapost-stungunshock,”shesaysoveraradio,probablycallingaheadtothehospital.
Evanarrivedafewminutesafterthepolice,andheoffers,“I’llcheckStephen’sfileforhisaddress.”
“Alreadygotit,”anotherofficersays,holdinguphisphonewhereIcanseeStephen’sdriver’slicense.
“Doyouhaveanyideawherehemight’vetakenher?Otherthanhishouse,anyplacespecial?Orevenreadilyavailable?”
I’mrackingmymind,myfamilyatmybackandSamantha’smomstaringatmehopefullyasifIholdtheentiretyofherworldinmyhands.
Samantha’smyworldtoo,andI’dgladlytakeherplaceinthissituationifIonlyknewwhereshewas.
Ilookaround,seeingthepeoplealongthecurbwho’vecomeouttowatchthedramaunfoldlikethisissomesortoftelevisionshow,notmyliferippingapartattheseams.
People.
There’snotalotofthembecausesomanyofthebuildingsaroundherehavebeenredoneforbusinessesthatareopenduringtheday,andit’slate.Butthere’sone…
“WhataboutZack’splace?”IaskCarter.“It’sclose,empty,private.”
“Where?”theofficerdemands.“Let’scheckit.”
Carterfrowns,thinkinghard.“Theaddressis…11359Jordan,Ithink.”
Theofficernods,pushingabuttonathisshoulderandtalkingtothepoliceattheotherendofthechannel.“Rollaunittothisaddress—”
ButIcan’tstandhereandwait.Ineedtodosomething.It’stoofartorun,andmycarisblockedinbyemergencyvehicles.IholdmyhandouttoKyle.“Key.”
Hiseyebrowsjumpup,buthedigsinhispocketandputstheminmyoutstretchedpalm.“IwillkillyouifyousomuchascussatLucille.She’ssensitive.”
Ihaven’triddenamotorcycleinalongtime,andonlyafewtimesatthat,butitcomesbacktomeliterallylike‘ridingabike’asIslingmylegoverthemachineandstartit.Theloudrumbledrawseveryone’sattention,andIrevitacoupleoftimesbeforeIspeedoutofthelot.
It’snotevenaminutelaterthatapatrolcarcutsmeoff,rollingtoZack’splacewithsirensandlightswailing,soIfollowthem.
She’sgottobethere.
Pleaseletherbethereandbeokay.
Thebuildinglooksdesertedatfirst,andmyheartsinks.ButIseethepoliceofficerwavingmeoff,soIparkthemotorcycle,keepingaclosewatch.Hispartnermovestowardthesideofbuilding,andit’sthenthatIseeit.
Asilversedan.
He’shere.ThatmeansSamantha’shere.
Iruntowardthedoor,onlytohaveanofficerstopme,physicallyshovingmebackasplitsecondbeforethedoorpopsopen.
“HELP!HELP!”Samanthashoutssoloudlythathervoicebreaksassherunsfreeofthebuilding.
Herstepsstutterwhensheseesthelit-uppolicecarsandofficerswiththeirgunsdrawn.Iyell,runningtowardher,“Samantha!”
“Chance!”
Inaheartbeat,she’sinmyarms.Safe,alive,andhuggingmeastightlyasI’msqueezingher.
Stephenrunsouttoo,followingSamantha,butwhenheseesthepolice,hetriestoreverse,hislegsgoingScooby-Doowild.Butanofficergrabshim,roughlyshovinghimtothegroundface-downandlockinghandcuffstohiswrists.“StephenSimpson,you’reunderarrest…”
“Samantha!Tellthemyouwantedit.YouwantME!You’remine!”Hiseyesarewild,hisgrinmaniacal,andhisshoutsarehystericalandborderingonnonsense,butSamantha’sshakingherhead,clearlyunderstandingeveryword.
“Hehitme,kidnappedme,”shedeclaresloudlytothepolice.
“Didhe…”Iasksoftly,notingherdisheveledclothes.
Sheshakesherhead.“Hethreatenedto,wasgoingto,butIgothimtalkingsoIcouldgetaway.”
AnofficerwhosenameplatesaysBeverlyislisteningtoeverywordSamanthasays,andsheadds,“Soundslikeyouwerelucky.That’susuallynotthecase.”Sheoffersapressed-lip,tightsmilebeforeaskingSamanthatositdownwiththeparamedicstogetcheckedover.“Youreyelooksprettybad,andyouprobablyhaveaconcussion.”
It’sallIcandotolethergosothattheparamediccandoherassessment,butI’mwatchingSamanthaclosely.Imightnevertakemyeyesoffheragain
“ThankGod!”Ms.Reddingsays,runningup.Shemusthavearrivedinalltheruckus.Myfamilyisrunningbehindher,lookingatSamanthaandmewithrelief.
“She’sokay?”Lunaasksme,givingthemotheranddaughteraprivatemoment.
Inodwoodenly.“Yeah,concussion,theysaid.”
MybrothersandKaylalayheavyhandsonmyshoulders,supportingmebecausenowthatSamantha’ssafe,Ifeellikecollapsingmyself.“Wegotchu,Chance,”Coletellsme.“AndSamanthatoo.She’soneofus.”
There’samurmurofagreementamongmysiblings,andwecirclearoundSamanthaandhermomprotectively.
Samanthamightbeoneofus,butshe’salso…mine.AndIalmostlostherbeforetellingherhowmuchIloveher.
Isquatdownbesideher,needingtosayitrightnow.“Samantha,thismightnotbethetime,but…”
“Iloveyou,”sheblurtsoutashertearsfinallyfall.
Igatherherintomyarmsbutstopshortbeforesheputsherheadonmyshoulder,wantinghertoseethetruthinmyeyes.“Iloveyoutoo.”
Whenshenodsandburiesherfaceintomyshoulder,thereliefinmysoulisinstant.Shenotonlylovesme,butshe’sacceptingmylove.Thosearetwoverydifferentthings,andthatshetrustsmeenoughtoletmeinsideherheartisagiftIwillnevertakeforgranted.
Suddenly,there’sachorusofshouting,andchaosbreaksoutasStephenwrenchesfreefromtheofficertryingtoputhimintoanSUV.Runningstraightatus,hescreams,“Samantha!”
Imoveinfrontofherprotectively,readytodowhateverittakesforher.I’veneverkilledbefore,butIwilldoitnowforSamantha.
ButbeforeStephengetswithinthreefeetofSamantha,Kylestepsinhispathandpuncheshimsquareinthenose.Stephengoesdownsloppily,crumblingunconsciouslytothegroundwithbloodspurtingalloverhisface.
It’soddlyanticlimactic,especiallywhenKyleholdshishandsoutandsays,“Self-defenseanddefenseofothers.Totallylegit,yeah?”
Whennoneoftheofficersmovetocuffhim,heturnsaroundwithan‘aw,shucks’,sidewayssmile.“Figurediftherewasgonnabeafalltotake,it’dbebetterifitwasmethanyou,Chance.Yougotareputationandshit.Idon’t.Besides,apunchlikethatmightmessupyourmanicure.”
Darkandtwistedasitmaybe,hislogicmakessenseinasweetsortofway.NotthatIhaveamanicure,butifthepolicedidpresschargesforassaultingarestrainedman,I’dbedonefor.Idon’tthinkKyle’dgiveasinglefuck.
“Thanks,man,”Itellhimwithanodofappreciation.
“Okay,arewegoodformetoaskafewmorequestionsnow?”OfficerBeverlyaskstheparamedic.
***
“Ireceivedanupdatefromthedistrictattorney,”thelawyersaysasSamanthaandIsitdowninhisoffice.Onhisdeskisanameplate,ThaddeusHowe
Thankfully,he’samanwithagoodsenseofhumor,andifyouaskhimaboutDeweyandScrew‘em,he’llgoalongwiththejokeandanswer,‘AndHowe.’
Butwe’renothereforjokes,andasSamanthasettlesintoherseat,Ireachforherhand,relishingherfingersinmine.Doingthat,somethingthatonceseemedinconsequential,nowfeelshuge.
She’sokay,Iremindmyself.
“WhatdidtheDAsay?”Samanthaasks.ShelikesThaddeus,andIcanunderstandwhy.He’sastraight-forward,nokidgloves,rock-solidattorneywho’sdoneagoodjobofrepresentingSamantha’sinterestsinthecasewithStephen
Igiveherhandasqueeze,andsheforcesabravesmile.
Samanthahasbeenhandlingeverythingremarkablywell,betterthanme,ifI’mhonest.Shesaysshewantstofaceitallhead-onandhashadseveralsessionswithSara,herfriendfromschoolwho’sspecializingintraumatherapy.That’snottosayshehasn’thadsomemomentsoftears,nightmares,andjumpstartlesfrombenignnoises,butsheacknowledgesthem,doeshergroundingexercises,andmovesonasbestasshecan.
I’mstillstucksomewherebetweenmurderandconfusion.
IfeelguiltythatStephenwasthinkingthatway–sodarklyradicalized–andIdidn’trecognizeit.Hell,IthoughthewasadamnposterchildfortheGentlemen’sClub,andIwonderifinthinkingofhimthatway,Ifailedhim.Atthesametime,Iwanttodestroyhimforwhathe’sdone.Slowly,painfully,andwithmoremalicethanI’veeverfelt.
WhichiswhyI’mfollowingSamantha’sexampleandgoingtoatherapisttoo.Bigboy’sdon’tcry?Whatbullshit.Realmencan,anddo,cry…andgethelpwhentheyneedit.
“Stephen’smadeafullconfessionandispleadingguilty,”Thaddeussays.“TheDAtellsmethey’retakingapleadealthat’llgiveStephenaroundfifteenyears.”
Ironically,ofallthecharges,theonewiththelongestpossiblesentenceistheattemptedmurderofJim.StephensawthattheshockofthestungunhadmessedwithJim’sheart,sendinghimintoacardiacarrest,andinsteadofrenderingaid,he’dsteppedrightoverhim,haulinganunconsciousSamanthafromtheclub.
Thatimageisthestuffofmynightmares.
“That’sit?”Iaskhotly.“Withgoodbehavior,he’llbeoutevensoonerthanthat.”
ButSamanthaspeaksoverme.“That’sfine.It’llbedone,right?Notrial,notestifying,nowaiting.Justdone.”
“Youcandoavictimimpactstatementifyou’dlike,butyes,it’dbefinalizedwithintheweekunlessyouwantmetotelltheDAnoonthepleadeal.”ThaddeuslooksatSamanthablankly,notpressuringhereitherway.Idomybesttodothesame.
Thisisherchoice.I’llsupporther,alwaysandforever,butshehastodecidewhatwillbethemosthealingforher.
“Doit,”shesayswithanaffirmativenod.“Iwantittobeover.Iwanttofocusonme,notatrialorStephen.He’salreadytakensomuchfromme–mytime,mytrust,mymind.Iwon’tgivehimanotherminute.I’mdoingwhat’sbestforme,andhecangofuckhimselfinprison,”shesaysbluntly.
That’smybadass,fierce,stronggirl.Later,Iknowthiswillbehardonher,butforthemoment,she’ssolidlyincontrol.
Thaddeusnods.“Okay,then,I’llpassthatalongtotheDA,”hesays,lookingatthepaperworkonhisdesk.“Ithinkthatclearsthingsup.”
SamanthaandIstandtoleavebutstopwhenThaddeuscallshername.
“MissRedding,”Thaddeussays,“thescarsofwhatyouwentthroughcanlastalifetime.Butthosescarsdonothavetostopyoufromhavingahappyandfulfillinglife.You’retrainingtobeacounselor,yes?”
“Yes,”Samanthaanswers,smilingalittle.“Sextherapystillmeansalottome.”
“ThenmayIsuggest,althoughI’mjustalawyer,”Thaddeussays,“thatyouusewhathappenedandbecomethebestsextherapistyoucan?Maybeevenworkwithvictimsifyou’reabletodosowithoutjeopardizingyourownmentalwell-being.”
“Thanks,I’vealreadybeenthinkingaboutthat,”shetellshim.
That’ssomethingshe’sdiscussedatlengthwithSarabecausethoughSamanthawasn’traped,there’sbeensomeprettysignificanttriggersshe’shadtoworkthroughfromthethingsStephensaidtoher.Fornow,we’retakingthingsreallyslow,discoveringnewwaystobephysicalthatdon’tcausehertohaveanyflashbacks,andlettingherbeinchargeofiteverystepoftheway.
“Ontheotherhand,fromwhatI’veheard,yourworkwiththeremainingmembersofTheGentlemen’sClubhasyieldedamazingresults.Helpthoseguys,andasmanyothersaspossible,topreventfutureStephensfromoccurring,”Thaddeusrecommends.“Bestoflucktoyouoneveryfront.”
WeleaveThaddeus’soffice,andoutside,thesunfeelscleansing,warmingawaythecoldsterilityofthelegalbusiness.GatheringSamanthaintomyarms,Iholdher,lettingherknowthatI’mhere.“Iloveyou.”
“Iloveyoutoo,”shesays,relaxingintome.“Ijust…wow.Ididn’tthinkit’dallbeoversosuddenly.”
“Meeither,”Ireply,strokingherhair.“Whatdoyouwanttodonow?”
Imeanliterallyrightnow—likegoinghomeorgettinglunch.ButSamanthahasbiggerplans.
Aswewalkacrosstheparkinglot,shetellsme,“I’vebeenthinkingaboutthat.Iwanttowriteabook.Abouttheconsequencesofradicalizingyoungmen,andhowultimately,weallloseifthereisn’tequality,respect,andcommunicationbetweenmenandwomen.”
ShepausesasIopenthedoorforher.Iwaitforhertositandthenclosethedoor,stridingaroundtothedriver’sside.
“It’sawork-in-progress,”shesaysasIgetinthecar.“Butwhatdoyouthink?It’llbealongroad,becauseI’llneedprofessionalexperience,lettersaftermyname,andIdon’tevenknowwhatelsetobetakenseriously,butyeah,that’swhatIwanttodo.”
IsmileatherasIstartthecar,inaweofthebrillianceofhermind.“Thatsoundsamazing.”
“Good,becauseI’mgoingtoasktheguysattheclubtobemyinitialinterviews.TheyhaveauniqueperspectiveonwhatlisteningtopeoplelikeJakeMcGibbonscando.Theylostafriendtoit.”
She’sextraordinary,thinkingofthelosstheguysattheclubfeelatatimewhenshenearlylostherself.ButIunderstandherpoint.Thewholeincidenthasbeenmessy,painful,andsentshockwavesthroughourentiremembership.
I’velargelysaid‘fuckit’toallthatandputmyentirefocusontoSamantha.Shemightbereadytocareforothersandputsomegoodintotheworld,butI’mprettylockedontomakingsureshe’ssafe,haswhatsheneeds,andissupportedatalltimes.
I’llgobacktotheclubeventually.Plansforanofficialreopeningarealreadyintheworks,butfornow,we’vechosentoprovideaspaceforthecurrentmemberstogettogetherwithoutanygossip-hungrynewbies,andEvanhasbeenrunningeverythingwhileItakesometimewithSamantha.
“Ithinkthey’dappreciatetalkingtoyou,”Ireply,headingdownthehighway.
Afterafewmiles,Samanthalooksaround.“Wherearewegoing?”
“CarterandLuna’s,”Ianswer.“They’revyingfortheBestUncleandAuntaward,andIthoughtwecouldhavealittlefunusurpingthem.I’mthinkingicecreamforGrace,apupcupforNutbuster—peanutbutter,ofcourse,andagameoftagintheyard.Oncethey’retotallywoundupandthinkwe’rethebest,youandIwillsneakout,leavingCarterandLunatobethebadguyswhorequirethingslikebathsandbedtimes.”Ilookherwaywithamischievousgrin,hopingmyplanfordistractionandfunsoundsgood.
Samanthalaughs.“Loveit.AslongasIcangetstrawberrycheesecakeicecream.”CHAPTER29SAMANTHA
Todayhasbeenalongtimecoming,andI’mready.ButIstopoutsidethefrontdooroftheclubandChancestopsatmyside.
“Wedon’thavetogoin.I’llcallEvanandtellhimtoreschedule,”hesays,hisbrowwrinkledandworryinhisblueeyes.
“That’snotit,”Ireassurehim.“Thisisthefirststepofsomethingnew.Iwanttosavorit.”
ThenewthingisthenextevolutionoftheGentlemen’sClub.
ChanceandEvanhavedonesomuchgoodworkandchangedsomanylivesforthebetter,andnow,thehopeistoexpandtheiroutreach.AndI’mgoingtobeapartofit.
Iwishithadn’ttakensomethingtraumatictogettothispoint,butI’mexcitedtomoveforward.
Ismoothinvisiblewrinklesfrommygrayskirt,straightenChance’spinktie,andtakeadeepbreath.Chancewaitsformetonodandthenopensthedoor.Istepintothecoolnessoftheclubandseeafriendlyface.
“Well,issa’boutdamntimeyagothere.Andwherethehell’smycinnamonroll,younglady?”SeeingJimathisdeskwithasmileonhisfacepatchesupawoundthatwasstillbleeding.Iknewhewasokay,andI’vetalkedtohimonthephone,apologizingthatStephenusedmystungunonhim,whichhepromptlytoldmewas‘apileofcowmanure’,butthat’snotthesameasseeinghiminperson,vibrantandgivingmeshit.
“KnewIwasforgettingsomething,”Isaywithamatchingsmile.
Hecomesaroundfromthedeskwithhisarmsout,andIhughim,squeezinghimtight.“Thankyousomuch,”Imumbleintohisshoulder.“I’msogladyou’reokay.”
“Girl,it’dtakeawholelotmore’nalilzippy-zaptokeepOl’Jimdown.How’reyoudoin’,though?TohearEvantellit,youfoughtyourwayfreelikeabearscrabblingtogetouttafishin’net.”
Ihavenoideawhatthatmeans,butgiventheproudlookinhiseyes,Itakeitasacompliment.“I’mokay,”Ianswer.“Justwanttogetthisthingstarted.”
Ilookpasthim,allthewayouttothebasketballcourtarea,atthegatheredpeople—family,friends,clubmembers—whoarewatchingthroughthewindowsasChanceandIcomein.
“Yeah,guessI’dbestlet’chagitouttherebeforethewolvescome.”
Iflinchatthewolfcomment,thinkingofStephen,butJimishavingnoneofthat.“You’vegotghostswhisperin’inyourear,”herecognizes,wigglinghisfingerswiththewoo-woocomment.“Igetthat.Got‘emmyselffromyearsonthejob.Knowwhat’sbestfor‘em?”Hedoesn’twaitformetoguess,justcontinueswithhisadvice.“Pardonmylanguage,butyoutell‘emtoshutthefuckup.”Helaughshard,thesoundrustyandrough.
“Thatwork?”Iaskwithasmile.“Ifso,it’sgonnaputmyfriendoutofajob.”
“Wellenough,Is’pose.Butthewolfthing?You’retheirqueen,Samantha.They’reallouttherewaitingonyou,notthispissant.”HejerkshisheadtowardChancewithasparkinhiseyes
“I’mnotevenoffended,”Chancesaysgood-naturedly.“You’remyqueentoo.”
Iwarmatthecomplimentfrombothofthem.
Chanceleadsmeouttothecourt,wherethere’sabunchofplasticchairsinthemiddleandfoldingbleachersontheside,andeveryseatisfilledwithpeopleheretoseeChance.Andme.
Suddenly,applausebreaksoutastheystand,watchingChanceescortmetothefront,whereEvanisstandingbeneaththebasketballhoop.
“Thankgoodnessyou’rehere.IwasabouttostartrecitingpiasfarasIcan,”Evansays.“ProblemisIonlyrememberthreepointonefour.”
“Gladwecouldsaveyou,then,”ItellEvan.
“Morelikesavethem,”Chancemurmurs,amusedasEvanheadsupfront.“He’stotallylying.Hecanprobablygototwentyorthirtypastthedecimalpoint.”
Evanholdsouthishands,andthecrowdquiets.“Iwon’tpretendyou’rehereforme,sowithoutfurtherado,mybestfriendandpartner,ChanceHarrington.”
Chancemeetsmyeyesbeforesteppingaway,checkingonme,butI’mokay.Iwanttowatchhimtakebackthehelmoftheshiphecreated.Ismileencouragingly,andhetakesthehandfulofstepsaway.
“Thanks,Evan.Foreverything,includingmostrecently,keepingthelightsonhereattheGentlemen’sClub.”Evannods,acknowledgingthethankyou,andChanceturnstotheaudience.
“We’vecreatedacommunityhere,afamilyofsorts,withthemissionofimprovingmen.Andwe’vedoneagoodjob.Eachandeveryoneofyouisanexampleofthat.Butit’sanimperfectjourney,withdistractionsanddisappointmentsalongtheway.Becausethat’slife.”
Peopleshiftintheirseats,expectingChancetogivemoreofarah-rahspeech.
“That’sthetruth.It’snevereasy,butbeingyourbestselfisstillaworthygoal.Recentincidentshavetaughtussomething—becominggentlemenisn’tsomethingthathappensinsideavacuum.Mencannotdevelopwithoutanunderstandingof,andbeinginthepresenceof,women.”
Amurmurofagreementgoesthroughthecrowd,andthenthere’sonevoiceovertheothers.
“WelikeMissRbetterthanyou,anyway!”
There’slaughteraseveryonelooksforthespeaker,andIseeLucasstandingup,grinningwidely.
He’salreadyemailedmetosetupacounselingappointment,thoughIsuspectit’smoreforhimtocheckonmethanbecauseheneedsanyurgentadvice.EvansaysLucasisdoingreallywellandhassteppedintothevacantleadershiproleStephenleft.Lucasisrougheraroundtheedgesforsure,buthisrawapproachworks.
“That’sokay,Lucas.Ilikeherbetterthanyoutoo,”Chancejokesback.Everyonereallylaughsthen.“Tothatend…Samantha,canyoujoinme,please?”
Istepforward,smilingatChanceandthenlookingatthecrowdastheygetloudandrowdy,whoopingandcheering.
Heletsitgoonforamomentandthenwaveshishandtoquieteveryone.“Wewillcontinuetobeacommunityandorganizationthatfocusesonpersonaldevelopmentandonbuildinghealthyrelationshipsamongallpeople.Sexisanimportantpartofahealthyrelationship,andit’sbuiltuponastrongfoundationoftrust,communication,andhonesty.That’shard.SoI’mproudtoannouncethatSamanthaReddingwillcontinuetojoinusasourrelationshipandsexualhealthcounselor.Shewillalsobearegularcontributoronthepodcast…onthat,Evan,wemightneedtorenameit,too.”
“Alreadygotideas,”Evansaysinaclearlyrehearsedbit.“TheEvanWhiteShow,withsomeotherpeople.”
There’safewchuckles,andChancejoinsin.“Nothappening.ButSamanthaisgoingtobeanessentialpartofthenewclub,andournewcommunity.AndbeforeIaskhertosayafewwords,there’sonewordI’dliketohearfirst.”
BeforeIcanaskwhatthehellhe’stalkingabout,Chancegetsdownonakneeandmyjawdropsopen.
“SamanthaRedding,youaretheladyofmylife.YouarethewomanIlove.Youare,andforeverwillbe,allIwant…andmore.”Heliftsabrowteasingly.“Wouldyoudomethehonoroflettingmebeyourhusband?Willyoumarryme?”
“Hellno!”Lucasteases.“Heain’tgoodenoughforyou!”
There’slaughter,butmyeyesneverleaveChance.Ilovehim,ofthatIhavenodoubt.AndIbelievethathelovesme,butisthatenough?Itwasn’tformyparents,whooncelovedeachotherdeeplybuteventuallygrewaparttothepointwhereDadbrokeMom’sheart.
Chancewouldn’tdothat.
Somanytimesbefore,thevoiceinmyheadhaswhispered‘don’ttrusthim’and‘it’sonlyfornow,sodon’tgetattached’,butnow,thatinnermonologuehaschanged.I’vedonemyowngrowing,healingtheoldscarsandlearningtotrustagain.Chanceshowsupforme,timeaftertime,lettingmeseeandfeelhisloveandpresenceinmylifeeveryday,evenwhenhe’snotbymyside.
Outofthecornerofmyeye,IseeMomandOliviaholdinghandsrightbelowtheirchinsastheystandtogether,shouldertoshoulderlikethey’retwopeasinapodwitheyesglitteryfromunshedtears.We’vedonealotoftalkingsincetheincidenttoo,mostlyaboutwhat’simportantandhowwecandependoneachotherasafamily,evenifDadisn’tdependable.
BesideMomisMarvin.He’sgothisarmaroundherandhe’ssmilinghappily.Mom’slearnedtotrustagaintoo,andMarvinisprovinghimselfworthyofherheart.He’scookeddinnerforallofusformorenightsthannot,evenservingupgrilledvegetablesforChanceashemadesure‘hisgirls’,ashe’stakentocallingus,havewhattheyneedtotalk,cry,orrageaboutthehandwe’vebeendealt.Noahhaslearnedfromhisfather’sexampleandhasbeenagoodfriendforOliviatoo,especiallyasMomandMarvingetmorecomfortablearoundus.TheyusuallygroaninharmonywhenMarvinpatsMomonthebuttorshekisseshimbecause‘thegravy’stoogoodnotto’.
Thetruthis,therearegoodmenoutthere.Sometimes,they’renottheonesyouexpect.Theydon’tcheckanyoftheboxes,comeattherighttime,orsaywhatyouwanttohear.They’retheonesyoudismissastoothisornotenoughthat,andsometimes,thetruthis,you’retheonewhoneedstoadjust.Fixyourowndamage,healyourownheart,behappyinyourselfandtakethetime—howeverlongitmaybe—todoitrightsothatyoucanbereceptivewhenitgoesawryandahook-upbecomesthemaninfrontofyou,waitingwithbatedbreathforyoutospeak.
Iknowmyanswerandproudlysay,“Yes.Ofcourse!Yes!”
Cheersbreakout,andfromhispocketChanceproducesaringthatalmostdefiesdescription.It’sbeautiful,goldinlaidwiththintendrilsofsilverormaybeplatinumsurroundingastunninglycutdiamond.It’sfantasyandrealitycometolife,andofcourse,itfitsperfectly.
Theapplauserises,thecrowdcheeringasChancestandsandweembrace.Thekissisanotherfirst,deepandpassionateasusual,butourfirstasanengagedcouple.
Buteventually,westepapartandImoveforward,clearingmythroat.“Well…howdoyoufollowuponthat?”Iask,earninglaughs.“Uhm…gimmieasecondbecauseI’vetotallyforgottenwhatIwasgoingtosay.”
Wipingawaytears,Idecidetowingitandsmileoutatthecrowd.“Iloveyouguys,allofyou.AndI’mlookingforwardtocreatingsomethingspecialtogether.Idon’tknowwhatthefutureisgoingtolooklike.Idon’tknowallofthedetails.ButI’mlookingforwardtofindingout.Together,allofus,menandwomenworkingtobeourbestselves.”
“Aspartofthisbrightnewworld,canyoudoatoydemoclass?Igotmyeyeononeofthosediamond-studdednumbers,”Anthonycallsout,hisvoiceunmistakable.“Oof!”
IfollowthesoundandseeJaxxathisside,anevilgrinonherface,andAnthonyrubbinghischest,whereitseemsshebackhandedhim.“Lookslikethatmightalreadybecovered,butwe’llsee,”Ianswer.
“Arethey…?”Iwonderquietly.
Evanleansover.“Yeah.Apparently,afterthepodcast,Anthonyapologizedandapologizedandapologized,andeventually,Jaxxtoldhimifhewasgoingtokeepgettingonhisknees,hecouldmakehimselfuseful.”Ilookathiminshock,andheshrugs.“Likeyourmeet-cutewasanybetter,”hejokes.
“Hey!”Ibalk,andhelaughs.
“They’re…different,”Evanadmits.“Anthonysaidsomethingtometheotherday,somethingaboutMakimaandchainsaws?IhadtoGoogleitandI’mstillnotsureIgetitbeyondJaxxissuuuper-bossyandAnthony’senjoyingthehelloutoffollowingheraroundlikeadog.”
IcantotallyseeJaxxwithadominatrixvibe,butIhavenoideawhatMakimais.“Areyousurehewasn’ttalkingaboutBedroomHeaven’sFather’sDayline?Wehaveachainsawdildo,calledTimb-her,andacombocockring-prostatestimulatorcalledtheMowMeDown.”
Evanblinks,stillcomputingwhatIsaid,butheshakeshishead.“Nope,let’ssayIlearnedafewthings,andsawsomethingsIcan’tunseetoo.”
Ichuckleatthehauntedlookinhiseyes.“Justbecauseit’sforthem,doesn’tmeanithastobeforyou,”Isaygently.
“Good.I’mgoingtofindReagan,andremindmyselfthatplain,oldvanillaisadeliciousclassicforareason.Youshouldmingle,butdon’toverdoit.Theguysarereallygladyou’reback,butdon’tletthembombardyou.Itoldthemtogiveyouspacetobreatheandnottocirclearoundyou.”
“Thanks,Dr.White,”Itease,trulythankfulthathe’sbeingsothoughtfulaboutthingsthatmightbotherme.
Everyonegetsup,shufflingaroundtheroomtotalkandpeopletaketurnsmakingtheirwayuptomeandChanceforcongratulations.
LunaandKaylanearlytackleme,demandingtoseetheringandproclaimingthatthey’regoingtobebridesmaids,alongwithOlivia.“Andanyofyourfriendsfromschooltoo,ofcourse,”Lunaallows.
“Yeah,”Kaylaadds.“ThegoodthingaboutChancehavingaridiculousnumberofbrothersisthatyoucanhaveabigbridalpartytoo.Justdon’tputOliviawithKyle.”
Mybrowsjump,andKaylarushestoclarify.“He’dletherdowneasy,ofcourse,butlet’sbereal,anywomanwhowalksdownanaisleonKyle’sarmisgoingtobefantasizingit’stheirwedding.ItcouldbethefrozenfoodaisleatthePigglyWigglyandshe’dstillbesingingdun-dun-dun-dunwhilepicturingbabieswithsteelblueeyes.”
Lunalaughs.“Really?Ithinkthey’dbetryingtorunaway.Cole,ontheotherhand?He’sgotthatmysteriousangleworkingforhim.”ShepullsafacereminiscentofZoolander’sBlueSteel,somethingIcan’tpictureColedoingatall.
“Areyoutwotryingtomarryoffmoreofmysons?”MirandaHarringtonsays,obviouslyoverhearingLunaandKaylaassheapproachedandmock-scoldingthem.
“Leavethemalone,”Charlessayswarninglyabouthisboys,“orwe’llstarttryingtomarryyouofftoo,Kayla.”Heraiseshisbrowattheuncomfortabledouble-standard.Sherespondswithaglare,herraisedbrowanear-mirrorimageofherfather’s.
“Congratulations,Samantha,”Mirandatellsme,takingtheconversationbackandhuggingmegently.“Youtoo,Chance,”shesaysashecomesbacktomysideafterescapingaconversationwithJaxx.IfIheardcorrectly,Ithinkshewassuggestingatoyvendingmachineinthelobbycalled‘DicksonDemand’andChancewassayingthattheguysprobablywouldn’tbuyenoughdildosandvibratorstowarrantthat,butaQRcodeonthebulletinboardmightbeokay
“Thankyou,”Isay,cuttingmyeyestoChance.“Iwasn’texpectingit.”Hegrins,quitepleasedwithhimselfforsurprisingme.
“Really?Weallknew.I’veknownforlikeever,butUncleChancepromisedmeanewNintendoSwitchifIkeptmymouthshutforachangeanddidn’tspillthesecret,”Graciesays,havingcomeupwithCameron.
“Grace!”Chanceshoutsasshecoldlythrowshimunderthebus.
Cameronchokesout,“Hesaidwhat?”
Graciepatsherdad’sarmsadly.“Iknow.ItriedtonegotiatefortheAnimalCrossinggame,butIcouldn’tgetthedealtostick.I’vegotsomeideasforthat,though,don’tworry.And”—sheholdsafingerupproudly—“noneoftheminvolvebriberyorblackmailorwhat’sthatword…”Shetapsherchin,thinking.“Oh,yeah,misbezelment.”
“Embezzlement?That’snot—”Cameronstartstoargue,butwhointhehellisgonnaconvinceGracethatthere’sanythingwrongwithbeingpaidforhersilence?AndshedidsayherAnimalCrossingacquisitionplansdon’tincludethosethings,sothat’sgood.Mostly.
“GrandpaChuckandGrandmaBethareabouttoclimboutoftheirskin.We’dbettergetoverthere,”Chancesays,pointingatthefamilymembersstillsittinginthefrontrow.Asweheadover,hewhispers,“Theycouldnotonlywalktous,butprobablyskip,butit’sarespectthing.Weneedtocometothemtoshowofftheringandacceptcongratulations.”
“Likethey’reroyalty?”Isurmise
“Somethinglikethat.”Ifrown,seeingtheconnivinglookinGrandma’seyes.“OrmaybecondolencesinyourcasebecauseGrandmaBethisprobablygonnatellyouallthebadthingsI’veeverdoneandwhyI’mnotworthyofyou.”
GrandpaChuckgruntsasIholdoutthering,butGrandmaBethgrabsmyhandandsqueals.“Ooh,it’sagoodone.Youdidafinejob,Chance.”Andthenshewinksatme.“AndI’mnottalkingaboutthering.Ilikeyou.”
“Thanks.Ilikeyoutoo,”Ianswer
I’mprettysureherstatementistheequivalentofherlayingdownthelawforthefamily,andherrulingis‘I’min’.
GrandpaChuckdoesn’tgiveineasily,though,andhuffs,“Stillgonnaneedyoutosignapre-nup.”
“Grandpa!”Chancehisses.
“Okay.IfChancewantsmeto,Iwill,”Ireplycasually,trulynotgivingafuck.“He’sbuiltsomethingtobeproudofhere,andwhileI’mhappytobeapartofit,it’shisbaby.Plus,Idon’thaveanyplanstoneedapre-nuplater.”
“Thatso?”hesays,hiseyesnarrowedashetakesmymeasure.
“Yeah.IgaveChancemyheartandtookhisinreturn.Notake-backsies.”
Chance’slaughisbrightanddeep.“Definitelynotake-backsies.I’myours,andyou’refinallymine,Samantha.”
Iwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.EPILOGUE
Samantha
Thepaintingisn’thuge,onlyaboutthesizeofmycomputerscreen,butit’snotthesizethathasmeinneartearsasIlookatit.It’sthecontent,meandLuna,sittingsidebysideinthepark,armsaroundeachotherassoulsisters.Ofcourse,it’saLunaoriginal,sothegrassisturquoise,theskyispurple,andthere’saneonyellowglowtotheedges.It’savibrantlyaliverepresentationofus.
Itmeansalot,andasIclearthesobfrommythroat,Ihugher.“Youdidn’tneedto,butthankyou.”
“Iabsolutelydid,”Lunasays,huggingmeback.“Ihadto.Imean,sisters-in-law?Seemsappropriate,right?Andthisplacecouldusealittlepopofcolor.”
IlookatitonthewallofChance’s…excuseme,ourhome.Ican’thelpbutsmile.“Thisstilldoesn’tseemreal,”Iconfess.
“Preachingtothechoir,girl.IsometimespinchCarterinhissleeptoseeifIdreamedhimuplikeoneofmycharacters,”sheconfides.“Hewakesupspittingmad,too,andthenhastoprovethathe’sreal.”
Shedoesn’tsoundsorryatall,notevenatinybit.Infact,she’sgrinningaboutit.
“MaybeI’lltrythat,”Isaythoughtfully.“Aftergraduation.”
It’salmosthere,thedayIdidn’tthinkwouldevercome.ButI’vefinishedallmyclasses,havemycapandgownreadytowalkthestageandreceivemyMastersofPsychology,andsecuredapositionatalocalwomen’sshelter,whereI’llbeworkingunderanotherpsychologistuntilIcompletemyneededhourstogetmyownlicense.
Bestofall,IcandothatjobwhilestillworkingattheclubandsellingforBedroomHeaven.
“Youexcitedforwhatcomesnext?”
IhavetothinkaboutthatbeforeIanswer.Schoolhasbecomesuchacomfortzoneforme,whereIknowmyprofessors,spendtimewithfriends,andammentallychallengedeveryday.Movingonfromit,evenwithhowexcitedforthefutureasIam,isgoingtobeachange.
Butthat’swheregrowthhappens.Livinglifeonrepeat,listeningtoanechoofyourownvoicefromthevoid,andneverconsideringanyotherpossibilities,whileeasy,isn’ttrulyliving.It’sexisting.AndIwantmorethanthat.
Somuchmore.
“Yeah,I’mready,”Ianswer.“Bringiton,life!”
***
Chance
“Chance.”
Ifliponthebedsidelampandturnover,proppinguponanelbow.Samantha’ssnuggledupinourbedwiththeblanketspulledtoherchin.
Istop,lookingintohereyes.Didshehaveanightmare?Orhearanoise?Orneedamidnightcheesestickandnotwanttogotothekitchenbyherself?
Butthelookinhereyesisdifferent.It’soneIknowwell,butIhaven’tseenitinawhile.
“Youhavetosayit.TellmewhatyouwantandI’llgiveittoyou.Youknowthat,Samantha,”Isay,lettingheattrickleintomyvoiceslowlyeventhoughmycockisalreadyrock-hardbeneaththeblanket.
Iwanther.Ialwayswanther.Howevershewantsit.
Forabitaftertheincident,shecouldn’tletmetouchherandwewouldwatcheachothermasturbate.Slowly,asshe’sbeencomfortable,we’veworkedourwaybackuptousingtoys,aloneandtogether,gentlelovemaking,andevenroughfuckingatimeortwo.TheonlyrealdifferencethereisthatifI’mtakingherfrombehind,sheneedsittobeinfrontofamirrorsothatshecanseemyface,andifIcallher‘slut’,itneedstobeface-to-facesoshecanlookintomyeyes.Butshestillenjoysthat,sayingit’sdifferentbetweenusandit’sjustthepathwaysinhermindthatgetalittlemixedupsometimes.
Wealsoalwayshavesexwiththelightson.Idon’tmind,enjoyingthebeautyofherbodyandalsowatchinghereveryexpressiontomakesureshe’swithme.
“Watchme,”shesays,kickingtheblanketoffbothofus.
Iswallowthickly,lickingmylipsbutstayingstockstillasshepullshernightgownoverherhead.Herhairfallstothepillowbehindher,thedarkcurlsframingherbody,andherbarenipplesstiffeninthecold.Ormaybeit’stoSamantha’stouchasshedancesdelicatefingersoverbothtits.Whenshepinchesherself,pluckingatthepeaks,Igroan,“Feelgood?”
“Mm-hmm.”Herlashesflutterashereyestrytoclose,butsheforcesthemopen.Movingherhandsdownherbody,shesays,“Ihadadreamaboutyou.”
“WhatwasIdoing?”
Shespreadsherlegswide,throwingoneovermyhip.Shedoesn’tanswermyquestion,askingoneofherowninstead.“Wantataste?”
“Always.”
Shedipsafingerinsideherself,gatheringherjuices,andthenholdsitouttome.Ilickaroundthetipofherfingerbeforetakingthewholethingintomymouthandsucking.“Fuckingdelicious,”Imoan.
Shegrins,pleasedatmyroughdescription.Shetouchesherselfagain,spreadingtheslicknessuptoherclitandcirclinglazily.“Youwerewatchingmelikethisandthenyougotavibratorfromthenightstand.”
IunderstandtheinstructionandquicklyreachbehindmeintothetopdrawerwhereSamantha’sfavoritesarekeptattheready.Iliebackonmyside,andsheputsherlegbackoverme.Iholdoutthetoy,notmakingamoveonheryet,eventhoughIwanttoslidethethickdickinsideherandfuckherwithituntilshe’sscreaminginpleasureandallthoughtsarewipedfromhermindforamomentofblissfulblankness.
Instead,shetakesthetoy—Ithinkthisone’scalledPrettyInThePink—andslipsitintohermouth,coatingitwithspit.Thenshenotchesitattheentranceofherpussy.“Whatdoyouwantmetodowithit?”sheaskscoyly,knowingexactlywhatIwant.
“Fuckyourselfwithit,Samantha.FillyourpussywiththatdickwhileIwatchyouandtrynottocomefromhowsexyyouare.”Myvoiceisgravel,thewordsgrittedout.Myhipstwitchasmycocklooksforanycontact—herleg,thebed,myhand.
Hercunt.
Shepressesthevibratorinsteadilyuntilit’sfullyseatedandthenslowlystartstomoveitinandoutinawavemotion.Icanhearthewetsoundsofherpussyasittriestosuckthevibratorin,andI’msofuckingjealous.Smilinglustfully,shewhispers,“Turniton.”
Idoasshesaysandpressthebuttonatthebase,holdingitdownuntilitcomesoninapulsingpattern.Shecriesoutalmostinstantly,holdingitdeepinside,andIcanfeelagushoffluidonmyfingers.“Goodgirl,”Ipraiseher.
“Iwant…”Shepants,blinkingheavily.“FuckmewiththevibratorwhileIdomyclit.Jackyourselftoo,butdon’tcome.”
Shedoesn’thavetotellmetwice.Igoteveryword,everyinstruction,everydetail.IshovemyboxersdownasIflipover,gettingonmykneesbetweenherspreadthighsandtakingcontrolofthevibrator.
Igivemyselfasingletightstrokeandgruntathowgooditfeels.It’snowherenearasgoodasSamanthafeelswrappedaroundme,butIcanwaitforher.I’llwaitforeverifnecessary.
Wefindarhythm—herfingersblurringacrossherclit,mefuckingherhardandfastwiththevibrator,andmyhandnearlyrippingmycockoffwithhowhardI’mgrippingmyself.IhavetostopeveryfewstrokesbecauseIgettooclosetotheedge,butIdoitforher.
“Yes,yes,yes!”shescreams.Thistime,hereyesdoslamshut,herheadrollsback,herbodyarches,andherlegstrytoclosearoundme,keepingmerightwhereIam,asifI’dgoanywhere.Stillspasming,shepants,“You.Iwantyou.Fuckme,Chance.Please.”
Isearchherfacetomakesuresheknowswhatshe’ssaying,andasIpullthevibratorfromheranddropittothebed,Ileanoverhertopressahardkisstoherlips.“Iloveyousofuckingmuch.”
Withoutwaitingforherreply,Islamintoherjustlikeshetoldmeto.“I…love…you…too,”shesays,thewordscomingwitheverydeepthrust.
Shewrapsherlegsaroundmywaist,lockingherfeetbehindme,andIrunahanddownherthightograbahandfulofherass,neverpausingmystrokes.Herpussygripsmelikeavelvetvise,andIfighttostaveofftheorgasmagainandagainsothatIcanstayinsideher.
“Sayit,”shebegs.
Iknowwhatshewants.It’soneofthedesensitizationtricksSarataughther,andit’sbecomeawayforhertohearthesexy,dirtythingsthatsendherflyingwhilestillkeepingcontrolandstayingsafe.
“Whoseslutareyou?”Idemand,grippingherjawandforcinghereyestomine.That’sthedeal—fulleyecontactorthedirtytalkstops.
“Chance’s.”
“Whosewhore?”
“Chance’s.”
“Whosebeautifulgoddess?”
“Chance’s.”
“Whosepussyisthis?”
“Chance’s.”
Idecidetoaddonetoourlist,thinkingit’sgoingtobeoneshereallylikes.“Whosewifeareyougoingtobe?”
“Chance’s!”
Sheshatters,screamingmynameoverandoveruntilit’sajumbleofsounds,notaword.IkeeppumpingintoherbuthavetowrapmyhandaroundthebaseofmycockandsqueezehardsoIdon’tcome.Mynameonherlipsisthesweetestandsexiestmusicinexistence,butIwanthertotellmeit’sokaybeforeIfillherwithmythickcream.
Gruntingandsweating,Iwatchheruntilhereyesopenandfocus.Shemustseemydesperationbecausehereyesgoneedy.“Comeinme,”shebegs.“Iwantitall,makemeyourcumslut.”
“Fuck,”Igritout,comingsohardthatIseestarsbehindmyclosedlids.Shemakeslittlenoises,tellingmehowgoodIfeelinsideherandthatshelovesmycock.
IkeepthrustinglongafterI’vedrainedeverylastdrop,notwantingittobeover,buteventually,Isag,holdingmyweightoffheraswebothcatchourbreath.
“Wow,”shewhispers.
“Isthathowyourdreamendedup?”Iaskwithasmirk.
“Huh?”shesays,herbrowdropping.“Oh!No,inmydream,yougotthevibratorandthenwenttomakeeggs,usingmynewPrettyInThePinkasawhisk.”
Istareatherinshock.Youcould’veaskedmetolistoutahundreddifferentpossibledreamswithSamantha,me,andavibrator.Makingeggs?Neverwould’vebeenoneofthem.
“Iloveyou,”Isay,pressingakisstohersmilinglips.
“Lubyougoo,”shesaysagainstmylips,becauseI’mgoingtokissherallnight.
No,forever.
BecauseSamanthaReddingisgoingtobemywife.
TheEnd
Ifyouhaven’treadCarterandLuna’sstory,readNeverMarryYourBrother’sBestFriend
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