Sweet Surrender

by Rebel Wild

  The living room never changes. It has the same cinnamon and apple air freshener Mom keeps plugged in. The throw that we’re not allowed to use is still draped over the couch, the loveseat is still right across from it, and Dad’s La-Z-Boy chair is still positioned to get the perfect view of the big screen on the wall. Whatever Mom’s cooking hits my nose and I sniff three quick times trying to figure out what it is.

  “Where is that bonehead brother of mine?”

  “In his room,” Mom answers. “Why don’t you go back there and bring him out for dinner.”

  Walking down the hallway, I bypass the fake DO NOT ENTER police tape he has on his door and open it. He’s sprawled across his bed with his headphones on and eyes closed, listening to what I guess is music judging by the way he’s bobbing his head.

  He’s playing air guitar, making faces like Santana does on those old Woodstock Music Festival videos Mom and Dad made us watch over and over again. They’re music lovers and they made sure to expose us to all the classics. Mom even played guitar in an all-girl band when she was a teenager. Back then, we thought it was torture having to listen to that, but we grew to appreciate it. I even wanted to major in music.

  Monty’s headphones must be loud because he doesn’t even know I’m in the room. I hit his leg to get his attention and he jumps up, ripping them off his ears.

  “Hey, Duckling,” he says when he sees it’s me.

  I roll my eyes at the obnoxious nickname. I played the ugly duckling in a sixth-grade ballet recital and he won’t let it go.

  “What are you listening to?” I sign to him.

  “The Sidwigs.”

  “Never heard of them,” I joke and he smiles at me, studying my face. “What?”

  “Do you still miss it?” He holds up the headphones so I can get his meaning.

  “Not really.” It’s a lie. I miss it a lot. I used to get lost in my music. Losing that was the hardest part about going deaf. I used to long for quiet, especially from my obnoxious baby brother who insisted on playing his video games too loud, but now I know just how loud silence can be. “I was sent to get you. The parents are ready to eat.”

  “Finally. I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving.”

  Mom made pork chops with sweet potatoes for dinner and I ate way more than I should have. I sit with them in the living room overstuffed and miserable.

  “Your Aunt Judy wants to know if you met someone special at school?” Mom asks me as she sits swirling her glass of red wine, talking to her twin sister on the phone.

  I look away, pretending not to see her. Unfortunately, my eyes land right on Dad. He bends one end of the newspaper he’s reading and looks at me over the rim of his reading glasses. I turn my head the other way and my eyes land on my brother grinning at me. I roll my eyes because I can tell he’s about to say something assholey. He responds by taking the throw pillow that was behind his back and tossing it at me.

  “Answer the question,” he says.

  “I’m not seeing anyone,” I sign to all of them.

  “What about Arnold?” Mom says after getting off the phone. “He’s a great guy and I know he likes you.”

  “We’re just friends, Mom. You know this.”

  I feel Dad tap my leg so I look over at him.

  “Don’t pay any attention to your mother. You need to focus on your studies and forget about boys.”

  “If you had your way, Banks, she’d be a hermit. She can’t stay your little girl forever.”

  “Why not? It’s the perfect solution.”

  Mom shakes her head but doesn’t say another word to him.

  I excuse myself to go to my room, but my brother’s on my case before I even get inside.

  “So, spill it, Duckling. Who’s the guy?”

  “What guy?”

  “Don’t play dumb, although most times you’re not playing. I know when you’re hiding something.”

  “It’s no big deal, just a stupid crush.”

  With a heavy sigh, I walk in. I try to close the door in his face, but he holds it open. Giving up, I go over to my bed and plop down.

  “On who, Arnold?” he asks, coming in after me.

  “Please, no. It’s an older guy.”

  “Figures. Let me guess, it’s one of your professors, right?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “You’re talking to a guy that had to endure you and your sleepovers.” He interlocks his fingers together pressing them to his cheek and adopting a dreamy faraway look. “Gosh, Mr. Gregor is soooo cute. I can’t wait till fifth period tomorrow. I hope he gives me detention.” I can just imagine the girly shrill in his voice. Wanting him to shut up, I grab my pillow and hit him upside the head.

  “He’s not my professor, okay. He’s… my boss.”

  “Oh, man. Here we go.”

  “We’re not going anywhere. It’s just a stupid crush. You wouldn’t believe who he was if I told you, but the guy’s sort of famous and he runs a very successful company.”

  “So?”

  “So, a lot of girls want him. He’s smart and rich and way out of my league.”

  “Bullshit. That asshole would be lucky to have you and screw him if he doesn’t think so.”

  “Are you defending my honor?”

  “Nope, just saying. He can’t be too damn smart if he doesn’t see what’s right in front of his face.”

  “Thanks.” I try to hide my smile. Compliments from him are few and far between.

  “Whatever. I’m turning in. Dad wants us up before the sunrise to beat the traffic to the lake.”

  I nod a goodnight to him, but as tired as I am, sleep just doesn’t find me tonight. I lie awake for hours thinking about Mr. Dixon. So much so that I have to look at the picture I saved of him on my phone. The feel of his lips on mine, the way he took control of my body with just a kiss has me light-headed and wanting to feel it again. It probably didn’t affect him the way it has me but I still can’t help wonder if he’s thought about it at all. I wonder if he’s thought about me at all. Keep dreaming. What would a man like that want with a girl from Cottage Grove?

  My bed vibrates and I want to throw my alarm against the wall. I don’t know how she knows, but Mom comes in as soon as it goes off. She used to do that when I was in high school. I swear she’s outside the door waiting.

  “How did you sleep, sweetie?” she signs to me while I try to get out of bed.

  It looks like I was fighting with my covers last night. I’m tangled up in my sheets. It’s taking some effort to get free so she comes over and helps pull them from around me.

  “Good. I guess,” I sign to her, finally free. My pajamas are wet with sweat and sticking to me.

  “When I peeked in, you were tossing and turning.” I read her lips. Please tell me she didn’t peek in while I was dreaming of Mr. Dixon. “I would have woken you up, but I could tell you wouldn’t have wanted me to uh… interrupt… whatever it was you were dreaming about.”

  “Mom, please,” I sign.

  “So, you still want to say you’re not seeing anyone?”

  “Mom.”

  “Okay, okay.” She holds up her hands. “But you’re still on birth control, right?”

  I assure her that I am and at the same time I’m pushing her out the door. It’s way too early to have this conversation. Maybe if she came back twenty minutes after never, I’d be ready to talk about it.

  Great, now my mom is witness to my wet dream.

  Thanks a lot, Mr. Haunting Dark Eyes.

  We spend the morning out at Loom Lake. The water’s as clear as the sky, but it’s nothing like the ocean. Just thinking about that brings Mr. Dixon to mind. I sure would have loved to know what he wanted me to do this weekend. I can only dream about what I would have wanted him to do to me this weekend. Oh we
ll, someday my prince will come. Hopefully, he’ll be just as hot and willing to spank me.

  “Look at this one,” Mom signs before holding up a turquoise stone she found. “It will make a great centerpiece to a ring.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  She puts it in the bucket with the other stones we’ve collected.

  Mom makes jewelry and just about every weekend, she and Dad drive down to the lake to find stones. Correction, she finds the stones while he sits out in the middle of the lake on his boat trying to catch fish. That’s the only way my brother will agree to come. I don’t know what they do out there for all those hours waiting for the fish to bite. I’d be bored to tears. Then again, my brother says the same thing about collecting “stupid” stones all day.

  I tap Mom on the shoulder when I see them coming back to shore empty-handed.

  “What happened?” She asks.

  “I’ll tell you what’s not happening,” Monty says. “The fish. It’s dead out there.”

  “Even with the sourdough balls?” I sign.

  “Oh, they ate the balls,” Dad says. “Just not enough to stay on the hook.”

  “They dined and dashed,” Monty says.

  Mom doubles over with laughter.

  “Let’s see how long you laugh when your belly starts growling,” Dad tells her.

  “Like I’d depend on you two California boys to forage for us,” Mom says. “I brought sandwiches. Monty, help me unload the picnic basket from the truck.”

  “Heck yeah,” he says. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  I get up cursing as I take a shower, making it a point to strip my bed of its sheets and throw them in the hamper. I’ll figure out how to wash them later. I don’t need Ginger, my housekeeper, dealing with the huge cum stain I left from fucking Reagan in my dreams again last night when she comes back on duty. I don’t want her to see I’m wet dreaming like I’m a damn fourteen-year-old.

  My Saturday starts the same as it always does. I wake up early and go for a run on the beach before catching waves. The surfing report promised killer waves as far as Laguna Beach and they were right. I almost died riding a few of them. I push myself too hard, but it does nothing to curb the tension I still feel in my body. I make up my mind to go to The Dragonfly to get rid of my frustrations once and for all. Rarely, do I go this early in the morning, but I’m confident I’ll find someone to help ease my craving.

  I called ahead to Desdemona and she already has a girl waiting for me. I reminded her of my taste and limits so I won’t be disappointed again.

  I punch in the code and drive down to the private parking. I walk through the main level of the club and take the small stairway down to the basement. The girl, Sonia, is perfect. Her blonde hair and small frame are to my liking and her limits are compatible with mine. She’s already ball-gagged and strung up so I jump right in starting with a good caning, turning her ass bright pink before moving on to the whip. By the time I’m done she is wet and if she was allowed to speak, she would be begging me to fuck her. She’s responding perfectly but she does nothing to turn me on. What the fuck is wrong with me? Any other time I would be balls deep in her already.

  It’s her eyes. I noticed them when I slipped on her blindfold. They were dark brown, not hazel. Fuck, I should have specified that to Desdemona. Really? Do you think it’s as simple as eye color, Dixon? Feeling like shit for getting her all worked up, I pity fuck her with a vibrator and get her off before I leave, still unsatisfied. I pick up my cellphone and move on to plan B.

  “Hey, Bro, I was surprised to get your call,” my brother, Alex says, grabbing one of the beers he brought over before joining me at the pool table I have set up in my game room.

  “Why is that?”

  If anyone can get my mind off women, it’s my older brother. He’s like ice-cold water and a bad blow job to my libido.

  “Well, mainly because I’m the one having to drag your ass out of the water to hang.”

  “I missed you.”

  “Okay, cut the bullshit. What’s going on?”

  I shrug as I swig my beer and he stares me down, not letting it go.

  “There’s this… girl.”

  “A girl.”

  “I met her the other day and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

  “Did you get her number?”

  “She works for us.”

  “Even better. Ask her out.”

  “It’s not that easy, Alex. I don’t want to give her the chance to say no.”

  “Dude, your rich and easy on the eyes. Not as good looking as your big brother, but you can’t have it all.”

  “That’s not going to work with her.”

  “That always works with them. Haven’t met a chick yet that’s not dollarmatized when they find out I have money or dickmatized when I show my junk.”

  “TMI and this one’s different.”

  “Okay, how about this. Give her a sob story. Tell her your dog’s sick and you’re depressed about it.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Trust me, it works. I’ve gotten some of the best fucks of my life out of it. Have a picture ready to show her. Get it from one of those rescue sites that have them looking all diseased and pathetic. She’ll eat that shit up.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Alex.”

  “What? Chicks like to rescue guys. Why not use it to bang them?” His brow furrows when I sigh in frustration. “Wait, wait, hold up a second. You’re not talking about a quick fuck, are you? You’re digging this chick?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. She’s just not a bang-for-a-buck type of girl.”

  “So, she’s more of a what… a girlfriend type of girl?”

  “That’s a good way to describe her.”

  “Damn.”

  “Alex.”

  “So… you’re thinking… serious shit?”

  “I just want to get to know her.”

  “Damn.”

  “Alex.”

  “What? I’m just surprised. This isn’t like you. This girl must be something special.”

  “I haven’t spent a lot of time with her, but she’s special.”

  “Well, go for it, dude. I mean it.”

  “How do I go for it? I tried to ask her out this weekend and she thought I wanted her to come into work.”

  “How’d you ask her?”

  “I texted her and asked her what she was doing—”

  “Whoa, see right there, bro. You can’t ask a girl out for the first time in a text when she works for you. Of course, she’s going to think it’s work-related. You’ve got to do it in person. Make sure she knows it’s got nothing to do with work.”

  “In person?”

  “Yeah, go to where she is and ask her to dinner.”

  “She works on the lower level. I’ve never even been down there.”

  “Wait a second. Are you making excuses, bro? Are you scared to ask her out face to face?”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “So, that’s a yes.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Forget I brought it up. Can we just play the damn game?”

  “Are you going to take your ass down there Monday and ask her out?”

  “If my schedule permits, I’ll go down there. Now break.”

  “If your schedule permits.”

  He’s laughing so hard at me he pockets the eight ball. Leave it to my asshole of a brother to blow this shit out of proportion. I’ll show him who’s fucking scared.

  Monday morning I’m a man on a mission. I don’t even go to my office. I head straight down to shipping and receiving. Of course, I have something to be mailed. I have to make it seem like I have legitimate business to handle.

  “Mr. Dixon,” Carol Str
eam stands from behind the counter when she sees me.

  “Mrs. Stream, I need this package to be mailed,” I tell her handing her the small envelope. I scan the room for Reagan, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Absolutely,” she says. “It’ll go out first thing this morning, priority.”

  I know she’s making a big deal about it thinking it must be important since I brought it down myself. Truth be told, I don’t even know what the hell it is. I just grabbed it off the kitchen counter this morning. I think it’s some magazine subscription renewal that Ginger was going to mail.

  “That’s fine. I was wondering if Miss Montgomery arrived yet this morning.”

  “Oh, yes. She’s always on time,” she says. “Early in fact. She’s a very pleasant girl and a hard worker.”

  No need to sell me on her.

  “I don’t doubt it. I’d like a moment to speak to her.”

  “Oh… I…”

  “I’d just like to apologize in person for the misunderstanding the other day.”

  “Oh,” she says again. I’m sure this is the most excitement she’s had down here in a long time.

  “I’ll just go back and speak to her,” I tell her before she can call her up to the front.

  “She’s in the far back sorting room—”

  “I’m sure I’ll find it,” I say, making sure she stays put.

  I open a few doors to some empty rooms. Miss Montgomery is early indeed and right now it’s a good thing that no one else has arrived for work yet. I come upon her busy putting envelopes in their proper slots. I stand watching her for a long moment finding myself charmed by her going about her work. I lick my lips at how well her tits are filling out her blouse and her ass is not to be ignored. The way her body moves is mesmerizing. Damn, my dick needs to be slammed into her. He wants to send her quivering into oblivion.

  She looks up. Discovering me watching her, she freezes in place. Her eyes drift down to the salacious grin lingering on my lips making her breathe a little faster. I crack a broader smile letting her know I come in peace. She breathes out a halfhearted attempt at a smile before looking around the room. She looks as though she wants someone else to confirm my presence but she can also be looking for a way to leave. Shit, I hope she’s not looking for an escape route. Did she read my mind? I approach her thinking perhaps I should apologize again for manhandling her.