Talk Dirty To Me

by Ali Parker

  Ouch. That hurt. “I’m going back inside.”

  “I’m not finished with you,” Chris said.

  “Well, I’m finished with you. I suggest you take a minute to cool off before you come back inside. It’s your daughter’s birthday and you’re making a scene.”

  I didn’t wait for him to retort. I went back inside and marched straight into the kitchen, where I fell into my seat.

  Vanny watched me as I drained the rest of my wine. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  “I’m fine.” I looked down at her plate and saw the pasta and bread were gone, and the salad was untouched. I smiled. “I’m just fine.”

  Sandi was sleeping on the floor under the coffee table. She was surrounded by wrapping paper, and the pink bow from my present that she’d stuck to her hair was now stuck to the head of the toy I’d gotten her, a fluffy, life-sized puppy that was USB rechargeable and could walk, bark, eat, and learn new tricks. She’d unceremoniously named it Brownie because it was brown, despite my best efforts to talk her into something a little more creative. It was her favorite present of the bunch, and she was sleeping with the dog tucked under her arm as the adults sat around sipping coffee and tea.

  Almost everyone had gone home. Chris was brooding in the Lazy Boy in the corner while I sat on the loveseat with Vanny. Her parents and Nannie were on the larger sofa and the fireplace crackled, giving off heat and orange light.

  It was a pleasant room and the vibe would’ve been perfect if Chris wasn’t glaring daggers at me.

  At nine o’clock, my friend gathered his daughter from under the coffee table and went down the hall to put her to bed. He did not say goodnight to me. Nannie went to bed shortly after, leaving me with Vanny and her parents, and when Vanny offered to go do dishes, I stood up to help.

  I didn’t make it to the kitchen. Her mother went instead, telling me to finish my coffee.

  So I stayed with Mr. Hampton, who got to his feet, collected three large books from the bookshelf beside the TV, and came to join me on the loveseat.

  “I’m sorry about my son,” he offered.

  “Don’t be. He’ll get over it.”

  “He thinks he’s doing Vanny a favor. But she’s always been very good at taking care of herself and making smart choices. I trust her judgment.”

  Was that his way of telling me he accepted me? If so, it was a refreshing change of pace compared to what I was used to from my father.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said.

  “Please. Call me Martin.”

  I hadn’t expected that. My father had forced me to call him sir my entire life. Only when I turned nineteen did I finally have the stones to drop the title.

  Martin flipped open one of the first books. I realized it was a high school yearbook. He flipped through to the back, where there were photos of students in their cap and gowns. I recognized the blue and gold colors and leaned in as he pointed to a picture of a girl with long dark hair and big brown eyes.

  Vanny.

  “I can’t believe this was ten years ago.” Martin ran his fingers over the photo and smiled. “My baby girl is all grown up. A woman now. A woman I’m very proud of.”

  I’d have been proud if I was her father, too.

  Martin gazed at the picture for a minute. Then he flipped back to the front of the book, where there were folded up old newspaper clippings. He took them out one by one and unfolded them, passing one to me once he’d pressed out the creases.

  I found myself staring down at a picture of me and Chris and a couple of other guys from our high school football team.

  Martin tapped the picture with his index finger. “This was from senior year when you boys took state. Chris was scouted at this game. Do you remember?”

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  “Chris almost didn’t play. He got cold feet. He was so scared the scout was going to be there and that he’d blow it. We drove him to the game. Got him to the coach. Do you remember what happened when he told the coach he couldn’t play?”

  I laughed as I recalled the memory. I’d been standing there beside Coach Ricket. Both of us had been equally shocked when Chris tried to bow out of the game. Before Coach even had a chance to say anything, I’d grabbed Chris by the front of his helmet and jerked him forward with enough force to give him whiplash.

  “I yelled at him,” I said.

  “You didn’t just yell at him.” Martin chuckled and flipped through the other newspaper clippings. “You set his ass straight. You didn’t give him an option to be afraid. You took that away. You pushed him out onto that field and you held him accountable. He owes you a lot, Rhys. We all do.”

  Was this what gratitude felt like?

  “Please, sir, I was just being a friend. We all need—”

  “Martin. Call me Martin.”

  There was a warmth in my chest I couldn’t define, a sense of ease and comfort and peace that I hadn’t felt before but had spent a lifetime chasing. And Vanny’s father had given it to me in less than five minutes.

  Why couldn’t my own father do that?

  Chapter 27

  Vanessa

  I set the last stack of dried plates in the cupboard above the toaster oven as my mother rinsed the sink out with hot water after doing the dishes.

  “That sure was unexpected.”

  I licked my lips and picked up my wine. How many had I had over the course of the evening? Three? Four?

  It didn’t matter.

  “What was?” I asked.

  “Rhys. The pair of you.” She rested her hip against the counter and gave me that motherly, I know there’s more to this than you’re letting on look. “That kiss.”

  “Right. Sorry about that. I know it was kind of inappropriate at the dinner table and all but—”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m happy for you. Rhys is a good man. Complicated. But good.”

  Guilt rose up inside me. I was already holding back from Rhys when it came to my radio show alter ego. I didn’t want to hide things from my mother, too. Or bend the truth all because of Nannie. She deserved to know the truth.

  “We’re not actually together, Mom.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Rhys and I. He only kissed me and said all those things to get Nannie off my back.”

  “I’m confused.”

  I sighed. And then I broke it all down for her. I told her about the reunion and how Rhys had proposed he come as my fake fiancé. I told her because of that deal, he and I had been spending a lot of time together. And in that time, I’d begun to actually like him. And there was something there. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on and wasn’t ready to define because it was messy and confusing and I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “What if it doesn’t drop?” my mother asked.

  “It will. It always does. And don’t try to convince me a man like him is ever going to settle for a girl like me. It’s not realistic. As soon as the reunion is over and we aren’t forced to spend time together, he’ll move on to the next best thing.”

  My mother shook her head at me. “I hate when you talk so badly about yourself. You’re an amazing woman, Vanessa. And I think Rhys knows it. Sure, he might have lied about the pair of you dating. But that kiss spoke more than a thousand words. That was real. The whole room could feel it. I think he truly cares about you.”

  I waved her off dismissively. “Don’t be silly. This is just me helping him get his mind off his ex. I’m filling a need for him just like he is for me. Everything will go back to normal after the reunion next Saturday.”

  My mother shrugged. “If you say so.”

  We joined Rhys and my dad in the living room and I gave my father a kiss on the cheek and a hug to wish him goodnight. He and my mother walked Rhys and me to the door, where Rhys plucked my jacket from where he’d hung it on the hook at the beginning of the night. He held it up for me and I slid my arms into it.

  “How are you getting home?” Rhys asked.

  �
��I was going to drive. I had a few glasses but they were spread out over the night. I’m fine.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “Honestly. I’m perfectly fine to—”

  My father interjected. “Let Rhys drive you home. You can come pick up your car in the morning.”

  This was an argument I knew I would lose, so I let it lie, gave my mother a hug, and followed Rhys out to his Porsche. He opened the door for me before walking around to his side and getting in. The engine purred and rumbled as he pulled out of the drive. I waved goodbye to my parents, who stood in the light of the open front door and waved back, and then we pulled away and headed into the city.

  “You didn’t have to come to my rescue, you know.” I fiddled with the strap of my purse and picked at a piece of peeling faux leather. “No doubt Chris is plotting your murder as we speak.”

  “Let him.”

  “I told my Mom it wasn’t true.”

  “I thought you might.”

  I could have been wrong but he sounded disappointed.

  I licked my lips. “What did you and my dad talk about while we were doing dishes?”

  “Football stuff.” He took a right turn and came to a stop at a red light. Then he looked over at me. “He’s a good man, your father. He loves you very much.”

  “I know.”

  The rest of the drive was quiet. No music played. We sat in silence, winding down the city streets while we both thought about how the evening had unfolded. It was unexpected, to say the least. I hadn’t ever dreamed Rhys would kiss me—let alone kiss me like he’d been dreaming about it for a lifetime in front of my entire family. But it happened. I could still feel the soft press of his lips against mine when I closed my eyes. It was maddening.

  So was the wetness in my panties. My little turquoise vibrator was awaiting my return home in my nightstand drawer. There was no way I was going to get any sleep without a little help from my nonjudgmental friend. We’d work our way up to level five and I’d pretend it was Rhys’s tongue as I came.

  Oh yes. I was very much looking forward to that.

  Rhys pulled up to the curb outside my building and took the keys out of his ignition. He leaned against the steering wheel to peer out the windshield up at the building. “Why isn’t there a light on at your front door?”

  “It went out last week. Maintenance hasn’t gotten around to fixing it. They’re a bit slow moving.”

  “Let me walk you.”

  It would have been easy to say no, but I didn’t. I nodded. We got out of the car and walked down the path lined in hydrangea bushes. Rhys had his hands in his pockets and I had my nose in my purse as I sought out my keys. We stopped at the front door, shrouded in darkness, while I continued looking for them.

  Rhys peered inside. “It’s pretty poorly lit in there, too. What’s the deal?”

  “They don’t run all the lights to save on energy costs. Don’t ask. Me and the other girls who live alone in the building have talked to management to get them to turn them all on and just leave them off during the day, but they’re stubborn assholes. Ah. Here we go.” I pulled out my keys and held them up, victorious.

  “What floor are you on?”

  “Third. Why?”

  “Let me walk you up.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can see you inside safely. To ease my own mind. Not yours.”

  Liar.

  I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and let him follow.

  What are you doing, Vanessa? Tell him to go back to his car. Your building is perfectly safe.

  I didn’t say a word. We got on the elevator. Rhys pushed the button for floor three. The doors slid closed and the elevator groaned as it lurched up a couple of inches before rising smoothly to my floor. We stepped out and Rhys followed me down the hall to my corner unit.

  “Well, thanks for this,” I said.

  Rhys nodded. His hands were still in his pockets. “You’re welcome. Hey. I hope I didn’t screw everything up tonight by kissing you. I didn’t mean to put you in a bad spot. But I think I would —”

  “Rhys.”

  He looked down. Was he ashamed? Did he regret kissing me?

  I reached out and put a hand on his forearm. “I appreciate what you did.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I mean, sure, the kiss was a little much. And I think Nannie might have more ammo to use against me now. I’m sure she’ll be calling me a slutbag within the week. But that’s not the point. The point is you were the only one to step in and actually do something. Nobody has bothered to try to put a stop to her tyranny in years. So I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. You saved—”

  I never got to finish my sentence.

  Rhys grabbed me by my waist, pulled me forward, and pressed his lips to mine. I stood paralyzed as he wrapped his arms around me. The swell of his chest was firm against me as his hands worked up to cup my cheeks and then plunge into my hair. My breath caught in my throat as his tongue slipped between my teeth. He explored my mouth with an eagerness that rivaled the desire swirling to life inside me.

  I pressed my hands flat to his chest and pushed.

  He held me firmly. He wouldn’t give me the space. My fingers curled into fists in his shirt and I breathed in his smell, citrus and pine and red wine. He tasted like birthday cake and sex and it was all I could do to stay on my feet.

  Finally, I found my resolve and pushed hard. He released me and I stumbled back into my door, my shoulder blades pressed flat to its surface as I stared wide-eyed up at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I need you, Vanny.”

  “No you don’t.” This wasn’t happening. He didn’t need a girl like me. He needed a skinny girl in sexy lingerie with confidence. He needed a girl who would know what to do with him and all his masculine charms.

  That girl was not me.

  I wanted to run.

  He moved forward and braced himself against the door with one hand planted firmly above my head. “You don’t get to tell me what I need. I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks. Just being around you drives me fucking crazy, Vanny. Now tell me something.”

  My voice quivered. “What?”

  “Are you going to let me in or not?”

  Chapter 28

  Vanessa

  To be or not to be? That was the question.

  Should I let him inside?

  My lips still burned from our kiss. The heat was just as intense in my gut. A hot, desperate, licking flame raged inside me and dared me to say that one little word that would change everything.

  Yes.

  But change was scary. And sex was scarier.

  I’d never gone that far with someone before. Boob fondling and heavy making out aside, I was a novice. And Rhys was the furthest thing from inexperienced. If I let him inside, what can of worms would I be opening?

  At least you’d know what your callers are talking about when they call in about sex problems destroying their relationship.

  I wanted to have sex. I’d wanted to lose my V-card for ages. But nothing ever felt right. No guy made me feel like he was worthy of my defloration. Defloration. What a stupid fucking word.

  Was Rhys worthy?

  Hell yes.

  But was I worthy of him?

  Definitely not.

  I was the girl he’d fuck and then regret sleeping with in the morning. Definitely. But then it would be over. And he and I could go back to what we were doing and prep for my reunion, which I would arrive at as a grown-ass woman who had definitely, for sure, absolutely, and with certainty had sex before.

  Rhys was still staring at me. His brows were drawing closer and closer together on his forehead as he realized there was a very high probability I might tell him no. I almost giggled. I bet this was the first time he’d ever felt the possibility of rejection. No girl in her right mind would say no when someone like him invited himself into her apartment after saying those words that struck the match of desire inside.

 
; I need you.

  Did he need me? Or did he just need the hole between my thighs for a quick one-stop fuck?

  What would Nessa Night do?

  That was the question of the hour. What would my sexy, inner vixen alter ego do?

  I turned to the door and slid the key in the lock with as much grace as I could muster. I didn’t want him to see that my hands were shaking. I didn’t want him to know how big of a step this was for me. What if he changed his mind? What if this was too much?

  What if?

  What if?

  What if?

  I pushed the door open and exposed the belly of my apartment. All the lights were out except for the one over the stove, which provided enough light to see the outlines of things and the internals of my kitchen but not enough to light up the corners of the living room. I stepped inside and left the door open. Rhys remained in the hall, half-lit by the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Even in shit lighting that did no person any favors, he looked better than ever.

  I draped myself against the door like I’d seen women do in the movies. “Are you coming in or not?”

  Rhys responded to the invitation like a horse to a gunshot at a race. He lurched forward, gathered me up in his arms, and kicked the door closed behind us as he walked me backward into my kitchen. He picked me up with surprisingly effortless ease and set me down on the kitchen counter. For the first time in my life, I felt small. I felt dainty. I felt feminine.

  Then he began worshipping me with kisses.

  He started with my mouth and broke away, trailing his lips across my jaw and down the side of my neck. He brushed my hair out of the way to kiss across my collarbone and then along my cleavage, and I plunged my fingers into his hair like I knew what I was doing.

  I did not.

  Still, I could pretend a little while longer.

  His fingers worked at the button of my jeans. They popped open. I sucked in a sharp breath of surprise and he paused, his dark eyes sweeping up to meet my gaze. There was something in that stare and I had the sense he was asking for permission.