Boy Toy

by Sarina Bowen

  What I should say is “Oh sure!” What I actually say is “Oh. No!” Because that’s when I hear the doorbell ring. At the front of the house. And that is Decker.

  The girls erupt into shouts and cheers. They’re jumping up and down. If they see Liam and their dad at the same time...I just don’t know what will happen.

  “Just a sec!” I say and then I close the actual door and not just the screen part on Liam. I’m sure those wildflowers instantly droop.

  I’m a bad person. I’m a bad, bad person.

  “Hey, Sadie? SADIE?” I hear Decker call, and my quivering loins stop quivering and retreat into my body, if that’s a thing. Yep. It’s a thing.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” The girls shriek. I hear them open the door and can actually feel Decker enter my space. My. Space. This is mine. And he does not belong here. Does he not see the pillows? They’re supposed to be a Decker retardant. Stay back!! Out, vampire!

  Deep breaths, my inner therapist reminds me.

  Why didn’t you prescribe me some valium, I ask her.

  I run to the front of the house just in time to see a woman in a slinky dress bending down and offering her hand to Amy and then Kate. This is not The Nanny. This is someone else. Someone new. Someone who is actually not much younger than I am.

  But there’s one crucial difference. This woman is sleek and put together and...oh no. Kate has her helmet on and before I can stop her, she charges right for the woman, bringing her down in a perfect tackle worthy of any Sunday Night Football broadcast.

  Inwardly, I cheer.

  The woman sprawls across my floor, her sleek long legs going at weird angles. Decker helps her up before I can do anything. But then he says “For Chrissakes, Sadie, what are you teaching the girls?”

  I’m so stunned I can’t even speak. What am I teaching the girls? Stranger Danger! Of course. And who is this woman?

  “Here, Honey, let me help you,” Decker says, his voice all sweet. He actually calls her honey. “Honey, you okay?”

  Then he does it again. What. The. Fuck.

  She laughs, but it’s not a real laugh. “I’m fine. Fine. They are just…” Slight pause. “Charming.”

  She extends her hand and she’s walking toward me. Her nails are really long and pointy. Maybe she’s going to gouge me. I wonder if Liam is watching through the window. Hopefully he’ll call 911 if this woman attacks. But no, she wants a handshake. So I tentatively take her hand. It’s a limp handshake. It gives me the willies.

  “I’m Honey,” she says. “So happy to meet you.”

  Oh! Her name is actually Honey. The sugar in her voice and name make me want to pass out.

  Suddenly, I don’t want Decker to have the girls. I’ll cancel my plans with Liam. I’ll get Ash and Braht to babysit and I’ll just sneak over to his house for a little midnight nookie, and then come back and the girls will never know. Because I do not know this woman. This stranger. And how could Decker bring a new woman into the girls’ lives? I swear to God, it was only last week that he was with The Nanny. Isn’t he even the least bit discerning? Doesn’t he care?

  Decker grabs the girls’ gear, eyeing the duffel bag like it’s offended him. “Really, Sadie? It’s only for one night. I’d think a backpack would suffice.”

  There’s so much wrong with that statement that I just want to wallop him with the bag. It takes everything I have to remain calm. I remind myself that I want the girls to have a healthy relationship with their father. I want him to be present in their lives. The girls need their father too. But I also need a break. “It’s for the weekend. You’re not dropping them off until Sunday evening.”

  “Yeah, but Honey and I have decided to go to a wine tasting and…”

  My blood is boiling so intensely that I think my skin might melt off. I can’t believe we have to have this conversation. Again! But I can’t show the girls how mad I am. Also, I want this over with quickly because I’ve left Liam in the back of my house and forced him to hide.

  “Decker,” I say in my calmest voice. “The girls are ready for a great weekend with you,” I say. “According to the agreement, you have forty-eight hours. And I’ve made plans.” My inner therapist is doing a slow clap. It’s hard to have boundaries. It’s hard to deal with Decker at all.

  Honey comes to the rescue. “Oh, it’s fine. It was just an idea. We can have them for the weekend. Maybe we can get a puppy.” The way she talks, makes me want to kick things. And you don’t offer a puppy to toddlers. EVER.

  The girls are beyond freaking out. Kate is spinning in circles and Amy is sucking so furiously on her pacifier that she and Piggypoo are going to lift off into the atmosphere.

  But this is not my problem.

  I may want to control everything, but I can’t.

  “Let me help you to the car,” I offer weakly, feeling my cheeks flush and my eyes threaten to tear up. I will be strong for the girls. This is the new normal. I can do this.

  “Not necessary,” Honey says. “We’ve got this, don’t we, babe?”

  “Sure,” Decker smirks.

  Sure he does.

  “Okay,” I say. I hug and kiss the girls and watch Honey take their hands and Decker take the bags. He’s brought his stupid old convertible, but I can see he at least put the car seats in the back so, fine. Okay. I watch them pull away, feeling like a little piece of my heart is going on vacation. I can actually feel it leaving my body.

  A single thought slingshots me back into action. Liam!

  * * *

  Liam

  Now, you’d think I’d be storming mad and just stomp off into the distance. I mean, first she slams the door in my face, and then she seemingly forgets about me. But it’s all good. Really. It is.

  I can tell what happened. Decker was late.

  And I can also hear everything that’s happening now. I’m not above a little eavesdropping. I cringe at the name Honey. And my face scrunches at the tone of voice Decker uses when he talks to Sadie. What a patronizing anus. And then there’s the mention of puppies and it takes everything in me not to go in there right now and rescue Sadie and the girls.

  Maybe I won’t have to. Maybe we should just cancel our plans and…

  I listen.

  She’s standing up to him. She’s being firm. She could be a lot firmer, but this is a start. Good for you, I want to tell her. I want to high-five her. And then later, I want to push her up against a wall and lick her all over.

  Maybe I’ll have the chance.

  The back door suddenly opens.

  “I am so sorry!” she says. “Come in! Come in! I’m so so so sorry! I panicked!”

  “It’s okay, Sadie. Really. But maybe just don’t make a habit of that?” I hand her the flowers.

  “Oh! They’re in a pot!” she says, and I’m a little proud of myself here. I wanted to bring her flowers, but by the time she gets back from our weekend, they’d be dead. Hence, it’s a small pot for her patio.

  She sets the flowers on the counter and turns to me. I slide my arms around her and pull her to me—close, firm—and just kiss her. I kiss her because she’s nervous and I want to calm her down, but I also kiss her because it’s a physical need. I’m drawn to her. She sighs into me and only then do I release her.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say.

  * * *

  “When do I get to find out where we’re going?” Sadie asks as I head west on the highway.

  “I’ll tell you now.” There’s no point in making too big a deal out of it. I don’t want to build it up too much in case Sadie hates my choice. “We’re going to my family’s obnoxious home on Lake Macatawa. My parents bought the place about five years ago.”

  Sadie stiffens beside me, and I realize I forgot to mention one other important fact.

  “We’ll be the only ones there. We’ll have every obnoxious square foot to ourselves.”

  “Oh.” She relaxes. “Wow. Cool.”

  It shouldn’t bother me that Sadie doesn’t want to see my par
ents. I mean—she’s already met them. When she babysat us, my parents barely showed their faces. She knows they’re tools. Hell, I don’t even want to meet them. But it bums me out that we’ll never have an awkward meet the parents dinner with either of our families. Because Sadie is just in this for the sex.

  As far as she knows, so am I. But I’ve been in love with her since I was fourteen. I know I’m not allowed to say so. Sadie would hightail it out of my life faster than you can say relationship PTSD.

  I prefer to think of her reluctance to consider me a boyfriend has more to do with her divorce than her thinking I’m too young for her. But I’m probably fooling myself.

  “What makes the house obnoxious, exactly?” she asks as I slow down to take our exit.

  “You’ll see. The architect had a king-sized ego. It’s too big and too fancy for a lake house. Luckily it’s the kind of place you can disdain and enjoy at the same time. That’s what we’re going to do.” I eye the dashboard clock. “And we’re going straight there because I have a couple of deliveries coming at six-fifteen.”

  “What’s being delivered?”

  “Dinner, for starters. Tomorrow night we can go out, but tonight I thought you’d just want to relax.”

  “That is so nice of you! By ‘relax,’ did you mean ‘strip me naked’?”

  “Oh, the naked will happen.” I give her the side eye. “But first you are going to be so relaxed you won’t be able to feel your face. I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise that makes me unable to feel my face? You’re going to…roofie me?”

  I snort. “Not exactly. Fifteen minutes from now all will be revealed.”

  * * *

  Sadie

  When Liam pulls into a circular driveway, my first thought is that we’ve stopped outside a hotel. But no. It’s one very large house.

  Liam parks his car right in front of the gleaming double wooden doors and gets out. He pulls my duffel bag out of the trunk and looks up at the house. From his pocket he pulls a key fob. When he pushes a button, the double doors open slowly.

  “That’s very Disney World,” I say, climbing out of the car.

  “It’s something,” he sighs. “Come on. I’ll show you the house.”

  We enter the sprawling, light-filled foyer of an enormous contemporary home. Beyond the foyer I can see the main living area, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and double-height ceiling. There are one-hundred-and-eighty degree views out onto a private fenced-in lawn, a swimming pool, and a dock on the lake.

  The view is impressive, but the interior space looks about as warm and personal as a chic Miami Beach hotel lobby. “This is…pretty great,” I say, which is true.

  “If you like ostentatious echo chambers,” he says with a grin. “My room isn’t so bad though. It’s in the west wing.”

  This house has actual wings. Jesus. I follow Liam down a broad hallway hung with artwork. The last room on the left is his. It’s large, but not echoing. There’s a sisal carpet on the floor, a set of fishing poles on hooks on the wall, and several comfortable pillows on the bed.

  Liam doesn’t hate pillows. I think he’s my spirit animal.

  “This is nice,” I say, meaning it.

  “Thanks, babe.” He gives me a quick hug. “Listen, I booked a massage for you. So if you don’t want a guy named Sven rubbing oil into all of your muscles, now would be the right moment to say so.”

  “A massage?” I squeak. “Well, only if his name is really Sven.”

  Liam laughs, low and throaty.

  “Honestly, that’s the best gift ever. It’s been eons since I had a massage. Since before I was pregnant with Kate and Amy.”

  His blue eyes are smiling at me. “Really?”

  “Really. I love it.”

  He picks me up and kisses me. And I like it a whole lot.

  * * *

  My massage will take place in the “spa room” of the McAllister family mansion. It’s a sunlit space with a water feature on the wall and an ostentatiously healthy bamboo plant. I wonder who cleans this place, and who waters the bamboo. I’m pretty sure it’s neither Mr. nor Mrs. McAllister.

  Sven turns out to be a nice Korean-American guy from Grand Rapids. “I get more jobs as Sven, but my real name is Kevin,” he explains. “Now tell me about your trouble areas.”

  “My trouble areas are that my ex-husband has my two-year-old twins for an entire weekend, along with his new girlfriend named Honey.”

  Kevin/Sven cringes. “That sounds rough, but I meant to ask if any particular muscles are troubling you.”

  “Ah. My shoulders are tight.”

  “Let’s fix that,” he says. “Remove as much clothing as you’re comfortable with and cover yourself with the sheet. I’ll warm up my oil and be back in five,” he says.

  When he returns to the room, I feel self-conscious on that table for about seven seconds. But then I discover that he has magically strong hands. He starts on my upper back and spends a nice long time turning my shoulder muscles to putty. By the time he’s massaged my arms and my lower legs, I’m too blissed out to care that he spends a couple of businesslike minutes on my gluteus maximus.

  I also don’t care that my gluteus maximus is more maximal than it used to be. I don’t care about a single thing in the world, in fact.

  When Kevin is done with me, I actually have to wipe drool off the corner of my mouth to thank him for his services. “That was everything,” I slur. “Is there anything you need from me?”

  “Not a thing, it’s all covered,” he says. “You just relax, and I’ll show myself out.”

  Then I nearly fall asleep on the table. I feel like a cooked noodle. Every muscle is relaxed, and my body feels supple and… Horny. All that rubbing has awoken every nerve ending in my body, because they all know that Liam is one or two excessively large rooms away.

  For another five minutes I lie there thinking happy thoughts about him. Then I peel myself off the table and pull on a fluffy white robe that’s been left for me.

  Liam is a god, and I’m in paradise. (So long as your version of paradise is one constructed by rich white conservatives who golf and spa.)

  I shuffle out into the giant, light-filled living room, with its stunning windows that look out on the lake, which is sparkling in the slanting late afternoon sun. There sits Liam on the L-shaped sofa. He’s holding a lap desk covered with papers, and frowning down at some notes he’s writing.

  When he looks up, I see reading glasses perched on his nose. Liam McAllister is hot and nerdy and smiley and serious and a hundred other things, all at once. My heart goes pitter-patter just looking at him. “Hey,” he says softly. “Feeling good?”

  “I feel great,” I admit. “Oily, but amazing. I should shower.”

  He licks his lips. “What if you didn’t?”

  “But I’m…” I trace a hand across my chest where it’s exposed above the V of the robe. “Slick.”

  He stands up, dumping papers everywhere. “What if slick is a big turn-on?”

  “Oh.” My vagina quivers. “Is it?”

  He stalks toward me. “My hands sliding all over your body? Doesn’t that sound good to you?”

  I gulp.

  “Or, wait.” There’s a dirty gleam in his eye. “We could shower together. Swear to God I have about a hundred ideas for fucking you. I can’t even choose.”

  I feel a full-body shiver when the word fuck comes out of Liam’s mouth. It’s not a word I’ve ever liked before, and I never use it myself. And Decker was too buttoned up to ever talk dirty.

  God help me but younger men make me insane. Particularly this one.

  “Follow me,” he says, his voice husky. He takes my hand and leads me down the hallway, into a museum gallery. Okay, no. It’s actually a bathroom. But it’s so large you could hang Monet’s Water Lilies in here. Glittering glass tiles sparkle on all four oversized walls, like so many little jewels.

  Liam drops my hand so he can operate a touch screen on the wall
. As soon as he does, water springs forth on the opposite wall, spouting from three—no, four—different shower heads clustered together.

  “You won’t be needing this,” Liam says, pushing my robe off my shoulders. He kicks it toward a laundry hamper in the corner.

  I’m naked with Liam again, my subconscious prods. Maybe this time he’ll notice that I’m not twenty-five and I have stretch marks.

  “Unbutton my shirt,” he says instead. And his hot gaze is trained right on my breasts, which he’s cupping in his hands, like a pirate clutching new treasure. “Come on, sexy,” he prompts with a smile. “Make it snappy.”

  My heart jumps at the command. With clumsy fingers, I reach up to do what he asks. Or I try, anyway. But my dexterity goes a little haywire as he strokes his thumbs across my nipples and leans down to take my mouth in a kiss.

  “Faster,” he says against my lips. “I need you.”

  All of a sudden I feel twenty-five. As Liam kicks off his shorts and underwear and steers me underneath the warm spray of multiple shower heads, I’m someone I haven’t been in a long time—a naughty party girl on spring break. I watch rivulets of water run down Liam’s pecs as he reaches for a bottle and squirts something into his hand.

  He lathers his hands together and then smooths soap bubbles across my breasts. Strong hands pass over my arms and shoulders. Then he pulls me against his body so he can stroke across my back and bottom. He grabs another squirt of shampoo and rubs it into my hair. And I’m cradled against him like a precious thing.

  Everything is soapy, wet bliss. I look down and see his erection, trapped between our bodies. By now I’ve had multiple viewings of a naked, turned-on Liam, and he never ceases to amaze me. His muscular, golden body flips all my switches.

  So I drop to my knees right there in the shower.

  “Oh, fuck yes,” Liam groans as I run my tongue up his shaft. And when I open my mouth and take him inside, he sighs my name. “Sadie.” It sounds like a prayer.