SANCTUARY: Beards & Bondage

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  I sigh because I have no answer. I know exactly what he means. He wants a partner. He wants love and he has no clue how to find it.

  “That wasn’t me proposing to you, by the way,” he says. “I like you, but I’m not stupid.”

  I laugh and take his hand again. “I appreciate the clarification. And let me tell you, I’m not sure I know many women who want to marry Scott McInroy either.”

  “My mom wants me to tell Scott the truth about us. She says I owe it to him.”

  “I don’t think you do. Me on the other hand…”

  “His friend and his brother.”

  “We’ll tell him,” I say. “We’ll tell him tonight, but for now…” I lean over and put my head on his shoulder. He’s still for a moment and then he shrugs me off, but only so he can put his arm around me. Then he pushes his feet off the wood beneath us and we swing.

  Twelve

  We sit on the porch until Silas’s stomach actually grumbles and I gently suggest we go inside and heat up the monster breakfast that Mason brought us. I take Silas’s hand and lead him toward the front door, but he stops me.

  “I threw my phone,” he says.

  “Uh—do you know where it went?”

  “Yeah, hold on,” he says as he takes off down the front steps. “I was aiming for the tree, but I missed.” Gala, Hank and Morty think that’s their cue to get in some quality time with their dog dad. Silas doesn’t even make it near the tree before the three of them come sprinting through the grass to come play. Honeycrisp is still on the porch. She looks out across the yard, then looks back at me.

  “You’re on your own sister,” I tell her. “I don’t have any shoes on.” Neither does Silas, but he seems more comfortable with whatever is lurking in his yard. Honeycrisp looks at me like I am the wet blanket of betrayal, then trots after them. It takes her seconds to find a tennis ball. She brings it over to Silas and drops it at his feet. I see him pick it up, but he keeps his eyes focused on the ground and looking for that phone.

  “Got it!” Silas yells, holding up his phone. Then he chucks the tennis ball and stands there as all four dogs sprint after it.

  “You want to eat out here?” I call out.

  He turns and gives me a thumbs up just as Hank comes barreling into his kneecaps with the tennis ball. I go inside and grab the food and a blanket off the back of the armchair. Joe comes slowly ambling out of the dining room as I walk back into the hallway. “You wanna come play buddy?”

  I don't get the verbal confirmation that would make the relationship between humans and animals so much easier, but he looks up at me and comes my way. I hold the front door open for him, then set up a little picnic of room temperature breakfast food. I split some bacon with Joe who’s parked it beside me and watch Silas as he tries to wear the other dogs out. After a while it proves to be a fruitless effort. Even Honeycrisp isn’t ready to give up when Silas heads back my way. Hank meets him halfway and drops the ball at his feet again. Silas picks it up and brings it back to the porch where he launches it a good hundred yards in the other direction.

  He sits down beside me with a huff. “I really don't play with them enough.”

  “Five dogs is a lot to keep up with. I gave this one some bacon. I hope that's okay.”

  “Yeah it's fine.” Silas shoves a fork full of pancakes in his mouth, then wipes his fingers on his basketball shorts. “I'm texting him now.”

  “Oh, Scott?”

  “Yeah.”

  I hesitate for a moment, but then I can realize I can’t think of any good reason not to text him. Waiting until I see him again seems like a bad move. If we want to keep doing whatever it is we’re doing, we should tell him now. And there’s the small matter of Mrs. McInroy. I really don’t want Scott to hear about this from his mom.

  “Okay,” I say. “Do it.” I lean over and watch as he types

  Hey, I need to talk to you about

  “Liz,” I say. “He has no clue who Ebie is.”

  “Why'd you pick that name anyway?”

  “It's what my sister called me when we were little because she couldn't say Elizabeth. My whole

  family used to call me Ebie.”

  “Do you want me to call you Liz when we’re alone?”

  I shake my head. “My sister slowly stopped called my Ebie after our parents died. I miss hearing that name. But it’s Liz as far as Scott is concerned.” He goes back to typing.

  Hey I need to talk to you about Liz.

  He hit send and goes back to his pancakes. I take a bite of eggs. “Let’s see if he answers,” I say.

  “He will if it’s about you. See.” He turns his phone over again and shows me his screen. I catch a glimpse of Scott’s reply before his screen goes black again. Silas unlocks his phone and shows me the message.

  Is she okay?

  Yeah, she’s fine, he starts to type and then he stops. He hands me his phone.

  “Maybe you should handle this. I can’t talk to him right now without telling him to shove a brick up his ass.”

  “Okay. Let me see. Maybe I should text him from my phone and ask him to call me,” I say, but then another text pops up.

  Is she dead? Spit it the fuck out.

  “Oh!” I say, my eyes blinking open. “Okay. Wasnt expecting that?”

  “Let me see.” I hand him the phone back. He looks at the screen and starts typing. “We don’t have to do this right now.”

  She’s fine. Nevermind.

  Scott answers immediately.

  Listen I’m kinda busy. I spent all week

  dealing with her shit and now I’m trying to

  catch up on work. Unless she’s dead or actually

  dying whatever you have to say can wait.

  “The fuck,” I say under my breath.

  “Now you see why I don’t talk to him.” Suddenly I hear my phone chime beside me. I reach half under Joe and grab it. There’s a text from Scott.

  Hey beautiful. I’m meeting Tillery

  tomorrow when I step out for lunch. Hang tight.

  I show Silas the text. I have no idea how to respond. I’ve never seen these two sides of someone I consider to be a good friend so plainly. “What do we do now?” I ask Silas.

  He shrugs and reaches for the last bit of the pancake stack. “It’s up to you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Listen. Nothing Scott says is going to stop me from wanting you. Me and him already hate each other. There’s no relationship there to break. You on the other hand?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “It’s your call.”

  I think for a long time. I finish my French toast. I somehow get roped into a game of fetch from the porch the moment Honeycrisp realizes I’m done eating. Silas gets to see that I have quite an arm even though I throw at the weirdest angle. I think about taking a minute to run this scenario by the girls. I pick up my phone and open my chat app. There’s a hot conversation about Noa adding highlights to her hair and Rayna casually mentions that she’s thinking about killing her grandmother and burying her in the backyard.

  I can’t dive in and interrupt that with this kind of talk. They’ll call. They’ll demand more answers than I can give them. I put my phone back down. A hypothetical would be too confusing and the truth would be too rambling. Also they all know Scott, and the news of him having a sexy, built twin would be too much for them to handle. Especially Brooklyn. She’d activate the emergency Find My Phone feature and rent a car just to come up here and look at him.

  I think about what I want. I think about what makes the most sense. I think about the way Scott talks to me and the way he talks to his brother. I think of everything Silas shared with me about their relationship, past and present. I think about what Scott’s side of the story must sound like. I think about him showing my picture to his mom and the way he treats me like one of his boys, like anyone but someone he’s had serious feelings for. I hate to do it, but I think about what I would have said if Scott had hit on me w
hen we first met.

  I can’t unsee the Scott I know now. Scott is a good friend to me, but he's Scott. It would never work. It's not something I want with him.

  I think about Silas. He doesn’t drive me so crazy anymore. I like being around him. He makes me feel safe and special in this way I haven’t experienced before. He makes me feel seen in a way that doesn’t make me feel like I’m taking up too much space. I care about Scott a lot, and I have to tell him, but I don’t want to ruin this place I find myself in with Silas. I feel like I’ve earned some peace and some quiet moments with someone I want to get to know better. Scott will find out soon and probably dive bomb the whole thing. I add that shitty truth to the list of other things that are giving me stress nightmares, but for now I just want to be here with Silas.

  “I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our day off,” I say. Then I pick up my phone again and flip to my camera. “Here.”

  I lean into Silas and try to snap a selfie, but he jerks away like I lost my mind.

  “Are you gonna send him a picture of us?”

  “No! I just wanted to see us.”

  His eyebrows go up. It clicks for me where his dirty mind is going and I roll my eyes. “Not like that. Though making sex tapes is fun, but you gotta burn all evidence immediately after.”

  “You've made a sex tape.”

  “In my former life, yes. I used to be more fun. Now it’s all the dull side of the law.”

  He leans back and I look at him as he uses his tongue to dig something out of his teeth. I feel like I should find this wildly unattractive, but I don’t. He’s such a man and I don’t hate it. “You've tied me up twice and you rode my face,” he says. “You don't consider that fun?”

  “Well it wasn't fun for you. Or did you forget that you told me you didn't like it?”

  “I told you that was a bad choice of words. I liked it a lot.”

  “Mhmm.”

  “I have to admit, I still don't get it. You’re not a professional dominatrix anymore,” he says. “What's the point of all that if you know I already want to have sex with you? We don’t need all the bells and whistles.”

  “Think of it this way. It turns me on to know that you want to have sex with me. I'm into that, but it turns me on even more knowing that I'm denying you a little of what you want. The bells and whistles you speak of make the sex better for me.”

  He laughs a little. I like the way it sounds. It makes me smile. I turn and pet Joe so Silas can’t see me blushing. “You know how selfish that sounds right?” he says.

  “Why?” I turn back to him. “Because men always get what they want? Why should I have to give you more?”

  “So how is it fair that I give you exactly what you want and I don’t get what I want?”

  “What haven’t I given you? Think long and hard before you answer, because you came your brains out last night.”

  “I—”

  “Yeah. It’s simple gender inequality, my guy,” I say in that voice Brooklyn always does to make me laugh.

  “I still don't follow.”

  “Men expect certain things and usually they get them, but I say fuck that. I almost never get what I want in life. I get some things, but almost everything, even the shit I work really hard for? I know I would get even more if I were a man. Especially a white man.”

  “Okay. You’re right there.”

  “You notice I haven't blown you yet? We’ve slept together a couple times now and your dick hasn't come anywhere near my mouth.”

  “I hadn't noticed that before, but I do now. What's up with that?”

  I shrug and tell him the truth. “I don't like to suck dick right away. Sometimes I don't like to suck dick at all. A lot of work goes into a good head and most men don't really appreciate the effort.”

  “But I went down on you last night.”

  “And I loved it. You were great. I hope we can do it again. But you own how many acres?” I say with a smile. “I'm just trying to restore some balance to the universe. See, even you kind of arguing with me about this, you think you're owed something, but you're not.”

  “And you don't think you're owed anything? Sexually?”

  “Nope. Well kinda, I think I’m owed consideration and pleasure. Otherwise what’s the point, but that's how consent works. I told you what I wanted and you agreed. You can say no. We can talk about it, we can negotiate. If we can't come to terms, we don't have to sleep together. It's that simple. But I do have one question for you. Did you not like it when I told you to kiss my pussy last night?”

  He smiles a little, then shakes his head. “I loved it.”

  “It’s okay, honey. Society’s got you brainwashed. You think you’re not supposed to like being bossed around by me or any woman, but you trust me, like I trust you. I wouldn’t sleep with you at all if I wasn’t comfortable with you in the trust department. I refused potential clients all the time if I got bad vibes from them.”

  “How’d you know you could trust me?”

  I shrug. “I listen to you. You’re blunt and rude sometimes, but you’re also gentle and kind.”

  He’s quiet for a few moments before he sits forward and moves a little closer to me. “Take a picture of us so you can see how we look together and tonight I want to make a sex tape. Which we can delete right after. I've never made a sex tape before. You can tie me up again if you want.”

  I look into his deep brown eyes. “If you don’t like it when I tie you up, we don’t have to do it. For real.”

  “I do. Just—rebalancing the universe takes a lot of getting used to.”

  I laugh and lift up my phone again. “Smile!” He looks like someone is jabbing him in his lower spine with a pitchfork, but I take the picture anyway. I like the way we look.

  We sit outside a little longer. Then some of the clouds peel away and I announce that I'm in need of some AC. Silas cleans up our picnic while I try to convince the dogs to come inside. I give up when Silas reminds me of their dedication to their false self of independence and the doggy door in the kitchen.We watch more Antiques Roadshow before he gets called up to the mercantile to talk to some family friend who's back in town. We both agree that I should stay behind. He comes back with enough food to cover us for a late lunch and dinner.

  We watch some preseason football and about halfway through I need a break. I jump off the couch and open my music library. I find just the right song and then hold my hand out for Silas after I set my phone on the coffee table.

  “I need to stretch. I usually walk like three miles a day and I’ve just been sitting around. Come dance with me,” I say as I rotate my hips. He stands and walks over to me like I'm his drunk great aunt asking him to dance with her at his own prom. He lets me take his hand and wrap it around my waist. I clasp his other hand around mine and start moving to the side. He finds the beat, but god he's terrible. “Can you dance?” I ask him.

  “I made it to fifth place in the town square dance last year. Does that count?”

  “Sure doesn't. How about this? Hold still.” I drop his hand, and then spin around and start

  rubbing my ass against his crotch. His hands automatically go to my hips. I don’t stop him. “How’s that?” I say as I drop down to the floor then roll my ass up the length of his thighs. I feel his erection growing when I press back against him. His hands go right back to my hips, but he doesn’t answer me. I spin around and drape my arms over his shoulder. I press my crotch against his thigh and I can definitely feel how turned on he is now. He looks at me, his mouth hanging open a little, but he still doesn’t speak.

  “Is this better than square dancing?” I ask.

  “I want to make that sex tape now.”

  “Oh yeah?” I wiggle out of his grip and slink back into a squatting position. My face is not even an inch away from the tent in his basketball shorts. I slowly slide back up his body, rubbing my tits all over him. “What about the rest of the game? This half time brought to you by Am
erican Express won’t last forever,” I ask as I drape my arms back over his shoulders. He wraps his arms around me so I can’t wiggle away again. I feel trapped, but I like it.

  “I don’t care about the game.”

  “Okay, well, what do you want to do in this sex tape?”

  He’s quiet again before he answers. I watch his tongue slink out and wet his bottom lip. I’m going to make him eat my pussy again for sure. “I want you to be in charge of that,” he says.

  “Oh, do you?”

  “How many more hours do we have to log before we reach true gender equality?” he says with a straight face, and I can’t help but snort.

  “I don’t know, honey. Lots of hours. Lots.”

  “I want to get started now. I want you again.”

  I stop moving and slip my hand inside of his basketball shorts. I watch his face as I wrap my fingers around his cock. Or at least I try to wrap my fingers around him. The size of him seriously shocks me every time. The lust inside me gathers like a ball in my throat and I have to swallow it down so I can breathe. I start to stroke him. A drop of precum smears against the inside my wrist and my pussy swells in response. His eyelids almost close, but I can see that he’s still looking at me. He’s watching my mouth.

  “You’re thinking about me sucking your cock aren’t you?”

  “No,” he says. “I’m thinking about fucking you again.”

  “I think we’ll have the best lighting in your bedroom.”

  “Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t move. Not that he can—my hand is still moving up and down inside his pants. I keep stroking him, up and down, over and over, until I feel him jerk in my grasp. I’ve tortured him enough. I pull my hand out of his shorts and reach around him for my phone.