by Jessie Cooke
“Of course I do,” he said, taking the menu from her hand and winking at her. As soon as he was out of hearing range Marissa said, “Charity Wheeler! That boy can’t be over twenty-one years old.”
“And?”
“And…you’re not.” Marissa was almost twenty-four and Charity was three years older. Twenty-seven wasn’t all that old, but Marissa wasn’t sure what her friend saw in these young “boys.” She liked her men older…real, masculine men. She laughed in her head at that. What she should be thinking was that she liked her book and television boyfriends older, since that’s all she really had. “Are you sleeping with him?”
“Define, sleeping.”
“Oh my goodness! What am I going to do with you?”
“Well, if I swung that way…”
“Stop,” Marissa said, laughing again.
“Okay, in all seriousness, back to what I was saying about…” she looked around and sarcastically spelled it out, “…S-E-X. Is that better?”
Marissa sighed, waited until Miguel refilled her coffee cup and her friend was done ogling him, and said, “Mom’s finally doing better. She’s in love with Roxy…”
“Who’s Roxy again?”
Marissa shook her head. “The little boxer pup that I spent all morning talking about?”
“Oh yeah, I wasn’t listening to any of that.”
Marissa laughed, and wished Charity was kidding. Going on anyway, she said, “She’s been feeling great and has been getting out of the house more and she’s made a lot of new friends at church…I think I’ll be able to start traveling soon. She’ll have plenty of people around to check in on her…and I can finally see the East Coast. I don’t want to meet a man, and then when I’m finally free to do what I’ve been dreaming about my whole life…suddenly be tied down.”
“Honey, unless you’re into that, tied down is not what I’m talking about. But you should try it at least once.”
The women at the other table were looking again and Marissa’s face went hot. Lowering her voice even more she said, “You’re killing me, but the bottom line is, I’m not the one-night-stand type.”
“Then do him three nights, or four…hell, if he’s good, keep him for a month or two, or stop back in a few times a year while you’re traveling and boom! You’ve got a regular. Baby girl, sex does not have to be about love. As a matter of fact, it’s rarely about that.”
Charity has been Marissa’s best friend since high school. She was a senior when Marissa was a freshman, but something drew the two together and they bonded quickly. They were an odd couple. Charity was raised by two wealthy parents and spoilt rotten. She was outgoing and could sometimes be a little on the snobby side. Marissa was raised by a single mother who struggled with medical issues. Her mother loved her, and up until she was physically unable to work, she worked hard to give Marissa everything she could. But spending so much time caring for her mother had made Marissa somewhat of an introvert.
Sometimes she thought her attraction to Charity was that she lived vicariously through her. When Marissa was a sophomore in high school, Charity went away to college and then spent a year abroad. They kept in touch and saw each other a few times a year, but Charity had only recently come crashing back into her life…more outgoing, and crazier than ever. Sometimes Marissa regretted that she’d confided in her about her sex life…or lack of it. Marissa had only been with one man in her life…or boy, really. After Charity left, Marissa met another senior, this one a brown-eyed devil. He took her virginity and waited until she was hopelessly in love before dumping her. Since then, she guarded her heart fiercely and equated sex with the shattered pieces that still lay behind the steel walls she’d erected.
Since high school Marissa had dated a few guys, but she had never let it get to the point of sex. She worked a lot and spent a lot of time with her mother, so she didn’t meet a lot of men…she always told herself there would be time for that later, after she’d gotten to do the traveling she’d always dreamed of. Unbeknownst to anyone however…even Charity…Marissa had done a lot of research into the subject of sex…just so she’d be ready when it did happen. She read every article that she could get her hands on and copious amounts of erotic novels. Most shocking of all…at least she thought it would be shocking if anyone knew…she’d even gone online and bought a toy…and then another. Eventually, she had a drawer full of toys, and lately her buying sprees had included slutty lingerie that she only wore late at night in the privacy of her own bedroom. She wore them for Gregor, she thought with a private chuckle.
Gregor was what she’d named her favorite toy. He was an eight-inch jelly vibrator, about two inches thick, and curved to hit her G-spot. She didn’t know what any of that meant when she’d bought him…she had just thought he looked lifelike and pretty in the ad. When she first laid eyes on him she’d laughed…no way was that thing ever going to fit inside of her. But since then, she’d learned a lot about the female anatomy and she got what all the hype was about in the reviews she’d read…and now she and Gregor were practically inseparable. She’d rather just stay home with him. Home, safe, warm…and satisfied.
“What about diseases?” she said, still trying to get out of going out with Charity.
Charity shook her head at Marissa in frustration. “Make him use a condom.”
“What about…?”
“You’re just making excuses. I know you have a good head on your shoulders and you won’t do anything dangerous. But honey, you need to get laid.” She looked over at the table full of nosy, judgmental women and said, “Y’all can turn your heads back the other direction, but you know you all need it too. I saw the way you all ogled Miguel’s tight ass…”
“Charity!”
“Oh, who cares about them? So, like I was saying, no more excuses. You pick the place for tonight, or I do.”
Marissa growled. “Fine – Spirits.” She watched for the look on Charity’s face that said, “No fucking way.” Her pretty friend loved men…but she also loved rich men. Charity refused to settle for anything less than a six-figure income and a car that cost more than the house that Marissa grew up in, even for casual dating. She knew her friend would say no to Spirits. It was a big biker hangout on the west side of town. Marissa had driven by it a hundred times on her way to work as a manager at Target. It was only a few miles from her house. Sometimes, when she was playing with Gregor, she imagined stopping and hooking up with one of the big, burly bikers, and feeling a pair of strong hands touching her all over…But she would never, ever…
“Great! Spirits it is!”
“You want to go to Spirits?”
“Absolutely not, but neither do you. You’re just trying to get me to back off, and it’s not working. But if that’s the place you choose, we’ll go slumming tonight; I don’t care. Besides, if you don’t want a relationship, you’re probably better off slumming it with the bad boys.”
“Charity…” Miguel was back with their breakfast. Marissa sat back and let him set down her plate and as he did, she caught him subtly…or at least trying to be subtle about it…glancing down the front of her blouse. Suddenly her body was warm all over and she knew what she and Gregor would be thinking about later.
“Earth to Marissa…” Suddenly Marissa realized Miguel had walked away, but she was still looking after him, and her friend was staring at her with a smug look on her face. “You are so horny.”
The heat in her body moved back up into her face. “Maybe, but…”
“No buts. I’m picking you up at eight – dress sexy, bikers like leather and lace.”
“And just how would you know?” Marissa picked up the syrup and poured it over her waffle.
“Did I ever tell you about the passionate affair I had in Prague? The story has the makings of an exquisite erotic romance novel. His name was Jon Pierre, and he rode a Harley Davidson…” Marissa ate her breakfast and listened to Charity’s very detailed, very graphic story. Jon Pierre sounded hot…maybe that would be what s
he named her next big synthetic boyfriend.
Marissa got home later that afternoon after a forced shopping expedition with her best friend…and she found her mother in tears. “Mom! What happened? Are you in pain?”
Marissa’s mother was a Type 1 diabetic. She was diagnosed when she was only seven years old. For the past ten years, as a manifestation of her diabetes, she’d suffered from diabetic neuropathy. It’s a nerve disorder that causes weakness, numbness and often severe and sometimes debilitating pain in the legs and feet. For the past five years she’d been unable to work and barely able to manage her day-to-day activities due to first, the pain, and then the side effects of the pain relievers used to treat her. Marissa had given up a lot to stay with her mother…college, a place of her own, a social life other than the occasional drink with one of her work friends or the rare night out when Charity was home.
She didn’t mind, though. She adored her mother and she’d do anything to help her if she could. Which was what led to the discovery of a breakthrough treatment thanks to Marissa’s diligent research. Her mother, Rhonda, had ultimately been prescribed what is called a “Quell,” by her doctors. It’s a wearable device that stimulates the nerves and triggers the release of the body’s natural pain relievers into the system. After a year Rhonda rarely had pain and hadn’t taken any pain relievers in over six months. The depression she’d suffered, thanks to losing her job and becoming dependent on her daughter, had begun to recede and she’d gone back to church and started volunteering in the community. Her life seemed to be back on track and Marissa’s heart had never been so happy. But seeing her mother sitting alone crying caused anxiety to settle in her chest.
“It’s Roxy,” her mother said. “Oh, Marissa, I’m so stupid. I left her outside alone. It was just for seconds. My phone was ringing, and I ran in to grab it. When I went back out, she was gone.”
“Oh, no!” Marissa had only just gotten Roxy for her mother a couple of weeks earlier. She was a four-month-old boxer pup and Rhonda was in love. “She must have just squeezed through the fence. I’m sure she’s still in the neighborhood. I’ll go out and look…”
“I’ve already knocked on every door on this street,” Rhonda said with a deep sob that tore at Marissa’s heart. “No one has seen her! What if she got run over?”
Marissa sat next to her mother and took her hand. “Don’t think like that, Mom. We’ll find her, I promise. I have a picture of her on my phone. I’ll make some fliers and go hang them up around town. We’ll find her.”
“She was supposed to get her chip on Monday when I took her to the vet. We can’t even prove she’s ours. If someone picked her up…”
“One step at a time, Mom, okay? People are good at heart, especially when it comes to pets. Let’s start by finding her and go from there, okay?” Rhonda nodded, but she was shaking all over and she was pale. It dawned on Marissa that the hand she was holding onto was clammy and sweaty. “Mom, is your sugar low?”
“Um…I don’t know. It alarmed a while ago…but I turned it off…” “It” was her mother’s insulin pump, which continuously monitored her blood sugar levels and sounded an alarm if they were too high or too low. Rhonda had to push a button to administer the needed insulin, or if it was low she would need to eat something, preferably carbs…and when it was really bad, she had little tubes of glucose that she squirted right into her mouth.
Marissa pulled up her mother’s shirt to expose the monitor on her side. The LED numbers were blinking and the “mute” signal blinked too. “Oh my God, Mom! Your blood sugar is 42. I’m going to get you a glucose tube.” Marissa stood as Rhonda reached up and ran a hand through the sweat on her hairline. Marissa was halfway across the room when she saw her mother’s eyes roll back in her head and her body sway. She nearly jumped back across the room, just in time to catch her and keep her from falling off the ottoman she was sitting on and hitting the floor. There was going to be no going out tonight, at least not for the Williams girls.
3
Maz worked on the property in the foothills all day, pouring and smoothing concrete. He was hot, tired, and in no mood for the plans his single brothers all seemed to have for Friday night. He drank a beer standing up at the bar in the clubhouse, and turned to head out to his trailer. Once he was cooled down and showered he planned to crawl in his bed and stay there until the sun came back up.
“Spirits in an hour!” Ransom announced to the room. Most of the guys ignored him; Maz had heard some of them talking about going to the strip club. Maz kept walking and the crazy little bedbug Ransom stepped in front of him.
“Out of my way, nain, I’m beat.”
“Nain?”
“It means…how do you say? Short…midget, dwarf…”
“Thanks,” Ransom said, rolling his eyes, “I get it.” Ransom wasn’t really short, at all. He was six foot tall or so, but so many of the guys in the club were over six feet, or way over that, and they teased him about being a “little guy.” “Come out with us.”
“Really, I’m tired, little man. Get out of my way now before you end up stuck to the bottom of my boot.”
Ransom laughed. He was crazy. “I need that hoity-toity French accent of yours. It attracts the chicks.”
It was Maz’s turn to laugh. “You can attract them on your own – it’s keeping them you have a problem with.” Ransom wasn’t a bad-looking guy; it was his personality that killed their interest. He tried too hard to be cool…like calling them “chicks.” Maz couldn’t figure out why Ransom couldn’t figure out that the “chicks” weren’t impressed.
“Come on, man, please. I need a wing man, preferably snooty and French.”
Maz didn’t bother answering him. He just turned and continued on toward the door. “Hey! There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Later,” Maz said, still not looking back. He walked across the dirt lot, not stopping until he noticed Sledge out in front of his own place, replacing a cracked board on the porch steps. “You fall through, fat boy?”
Sledge laughed and flipped him off. Maz laughed too and kept going. He lived two doors down from Sledge. Once finally there, he went inside, left the door open to catch the breeze through the screen, and then headed straight for the shower. He stripped off his clothes as he went. He took a long shower, pulled on a pair of boxer briefs when he got out, slammed down a bottle of water, and crashed on top of his bed.
He’d just drifted off when he was immersed in a dream. He was with a sexy girl with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She was licking her way down his body…headed for his cock. It felt so good…and better yet, she hadn’t balked when she saw his giant dick. He was about to get lucky. “Mm…ma chérie, that feels so good…” Suddenly the sound of laughter filled his head and the vision of loveliness that had been there seconds ago was gone. He tore open his eyes and the first thing he saw was a little brown mutt. It was standing on his chest with its tongue out. He turned toward the sound of the laughter and before Ransom could read the murder in his eyes and run, he was on his feet. Ransom scrambled out the door as Maz nearly tripped over the puppy, but Maz kept going. Naked, save for the boxer briefs, he hopped over the gravel in front of the trailer until he reached Ransom, caught him by the back of his shirt, and pulled him off his feet.
Ransom was still laughing. “You crazy little turd! What are you doing in my house?”
“I just wanted to introduce you to my new friend. She likes you.” The dog, now at Ransom’s feet, whimpered. Maz let go of Ransom, not gently, and the kid landed on his ass. He reached out and picked up the pup. “Isn’t she cute?”
Maz looked at the dog…she was cute, but he wasn’t going to give Ransom the satisfaction of telling him so. “She your date for tonight?”
Ransom laughed again. Crazier than a bedbug. “Maybe, unless I can talk some big French guy into being my wing man…” Maz was already walking away. “Ma chérie…it feels so good!” Ransom cackled like a hen. Two steps and Maz was back. He took the puppy ou
t of Ransom’s arms and planned on setting it down and roughing the little midget up a bit…but the damned puppy stuck her long, pink tongue back out and licked him right across the face. She had these huge brown eyes and long eyelashes and she was looking up at him with them. Everything inside of him was melting. He frowned, handed the dog to the kid, and said:
“What are you doing with that smelly thing anyway? Her breath smells like she ate a dead rat.”
“I found her. She’s just a pup. She was wandering out there on Van Ness Ave, about to get run over.”
“She probably belongs to someone.”
“No, I stopped at the shelter and had her checked. She’s got no chip and no collar. I’m gonna keep her.”
“You clear it with Wolf?”
“Yep. He said as long as she don’t go digging shit up and I keep her out of the clubhouse, she’s mine.”
“Keep her outta my house.”
“Sure, Maz, no problem. You going to Spirits with me?”
“You’re fucking fou, man!”
“I’m food?”
“Fou! Crazy, you’re crazy!”
“I know. You going to Spirits with me?”
Maz rolled his eyes and walked away, only to notice the pup had wiggled her way out of Ransom’s arms and was following on his own heels. Shaking his head, and acting annoyed, he reached down and picked her up again, walked over and handed her to Ransom, and said, “Put her away or she’ll get run over out here – it’s almost dark.”
Ransom grinned. “You like her.”
“Go get dressed, fou, and shower that dog stink off first. I’ll meet you up front in half an hour.”
“You’re going with me?”
“As long as you don’t say another word.” Ransom grinned and with the pup tucked under his arm, he headed for his little fifth-wheel trailer. Maz had no idea why he’d just agreed to go out with him. Probably because there was no way he was getting back to sleep now. Maybe a few more beers would help…or a blowjob. Yeah, a blowjob would definitely help. Maybe tonight would be the night…he could find a brave female soul that wouldn’t mind giving his snake some love.