“He is?” I watched Trent drop the tawse, grab a lubricated condom from the table close by, and begin to untie his pants. My words of protest died in my mouth when Trent’s erect cock pushed out, released from its prison. He rolled on the condom, walked over to Jason, and plowed into his ass, without so much as asking. Jason’s keening set me off, and I almost ejaculated. Watching Trent rock against his submissive was a show in and of itself. The man was fucking hot as hell, and I would have bent over right there and then if he’d turned his gaze in my direction. I was so horny I scared myself. What was I made of if I was excited by this sort of thing? Was I just kidding myself when I said this was barbaric? The reality was I wanted to be on the receiving end of Trent’s forceful thrusts.
I couldn’t stay another second. Heading for the stairs, I climbed them swiftly, plucked the keys to the Jeep off the hook in the kitchen, and headed for the garage. My wallet and cell were already in my pocket, so I didn’t have to backtrack into the house to retrieve anything. On the way to the ocean, I kept seeing Trent’s ass muscles, clenching and unclenching as he fucked the daylights out of Jason. Shit, I was so horny I hurt. I grabbed my crotch and squeezed, hoping to tame my dick into submission. All it did was make me hornier. When I saw the sign that announced the entrance to the public beach, I turned into the lot, parked the car, and ran toward the water. I found some protection behind a small sand dune, sank to my knees, yanked down my pants, and jerked off violently. I screamed when I shot, impressed by the load I sprayed across the sand like a fucking fire hose. I was so spent I collapsed onto my back, huffing out an embarrassed laugh―I was pretty sure I was certifiably insane.
I must have dozed off for a few minutes. When I woke up, I barely had time to form a coherent thought before a seagull swooped down and began pecking at my legs. It felt like a thousand needles were prickling my skin. “Hey,” I barked, shaking my leg and flailing my arms. “Get the fuck off me, you stinking bird!” Did he think I was his next meal? So far this morning had been a total disaster.
Just as I was about to get up and head back to the car, my phone buzzed. Great. If it was Cole I wouldn’t answer, but it was the detective, so it merited a look-see.
To: Sloandriscoll
From: Adachitokyo
Sources confirm Noriko is a purported virgin. Her mizuage was bartered and gained by one Ken Fujiwara recently. The unheard-of amount is the talk of the hanamachi. There has been much speculation on Noriko’s whereabouts and her future plans. Mother and Grandmother are mum. Should I continue to investigate?
TO: ADACHITOKYO
From: Sloandriscoll
What is a mizuage?
I hit send, hoping I’d hear back immediately. I calculated the time difference between the east coast and Tokyo. They were thirteen hours ahead. It was eleven in the morning my time, so that put them at midnight. I hoped my detective was a night person. And just as I was thinking, this my phone dinged a reply.
To: Sloandriscoll
From: Adachitokyo
Ancient practice of money exchange for support of emerging geisha. Illegal in today’s Japan but still practiced on the down-low. Person who pays mizuage has full rights to deflower geisha.
Deflower? Didn’t that word go out of style with corsets and horse-drawn carriages? Did Ken purchase Noriko to entice Cole into switching back to his hetero lifestyle? Did he choose her because of her Japanese ancestry and her virginal status? Was this his twisted plan from the beginning? To guilt his son into the marriage, not only to have the Petri dish children, but on the off chance that Cole might actually be interested in Noriko’s body? None of it made sense, then again, everything did. If Cole felt guilty about robbing Noriko of a future in Japan, he’d have to keep her regardless of my feelings. I was enraged, yet at the same time, hurt and terrified because I knew Cole. He was in a bad place mentally, and the timing of this transaction couldn’t have been more perfect. My tears began to fall before I could stop them, and I reached for a seashell, one of the millions that washed up from the depths of the Atlantic, and began scratching a big S into my thigh. My pants were still halfway down my legs, and the bare skin was ripe for cutting. I pressed hard, hoping the skin would break, but all it did was fade to white and then immediately turn bright red. I hadn’t actually broken the surface, but another swipe of the brittle shell would do the trick. Fortunately, the pain stopped me. I sucked in a ragged breath and tossed the seashell as far away as possible. I stood and yanked up my pants, muttering cuss words the entire time. I was not going to succumb to this dark world again. I’d come too far and refused to fall back into self-mutilation. I had to be proactive and face my anger and my fears.
I decided to go back to Manhattan and confront Cole―no more avoidance or pussyfooting around. We’d settle this in a major, knock-down-drag-out fight, if necessary, but we’d have amazing make-up sex and get rid of that bitch once and for all. Let her keep the money Ken paid, and her precious virginity, and get the fuck out of our lives! I had to reassure Cole that I was in this relationship for the long haul. All the gossip and speculation in the fashion world wasn’t proof that I would stray. He couldn’t push me away on the assumption that I’d tire of him. It was wrong in every sense. Sure, I’d just jerked off to the sight of two men getting it on, but I was only human. It was hot and I got excited. Was that so terribly wrong? I didn’t fuck Trent, did I? I loved Cole!
Driving into the city was a much better option than taking the train. It was quicker, and I needed to get home in a rush. I’d been gone for three days, and God only knew what havoc Noriko had wrought in our home, not to mention any warped seeds she’d planted in Cole’s receptive brain. I left Max a voice mail telling him my plans. Hopefully, he was too preoccupied with his friends and wouldn’t question my state of mind. I’d return the car as soon as I settled things with Cole.
It was close to four by the time I parked in front of our building and handed the doorman the keys. He’d find somewhere to stash the car until I could take it back out to Montauk. I was so relieved to be back I didn’t even notice the subtle changes in the apartment. I would become aware of them at a later time. There was Japanese music in the background when I turned the key and stepped into our foyer. I couldn’t determine if it was piped in on the sound system or live. I walked into the living room and stopped dead in my tracks. Cole was in full-out shogun mode, dressed in his samurai outfit, sans the helmet. He was sitting on the floor listening to Noriko who was strumming some guitar-looking thing and singing to him in Japanese. She was in a kimono, and her hair was swept up in a chignon of sorts, with white flowers and jeweled pins cascading down one side of her face. Freddie lifted his head as soon as he heard me, and I signaled him to stay. Cole hadn’t moved an inch, too enthralled by the nightingale serenading him, oblivious to my return.
Noriko slanted a glance but ignored me and finished her song. When she was done, Cole clapped appreciatively and said something in Japanese that made Noriko smile. She crawled on her knees to his side and kowtowed respectfully at his feet. She looked like a beautiful Japanese doll. If I had a knife, I would have carved out her heart. Instead, I stood there paralyzed, watching this bizarre reenactment unfold. She moved away from Cole long enough to pour tea from the ornate pot that Cole had purchased many years ago. It was an antique and worth hundreds of dollars. Allowing Noriko to use it was another sign that Cole was completely under her spell. She tittered as she poured, touching him on his hand and arm. Finally, she handed him his cup, making a big ceremony of passing it to him, all the while caressing him with her long and ladylike fingers.
“I’m home,” I said, loud enough to wake the dead.
“Sloan,” Cole stuttered guilty. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.”
“Come and have some tea.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Sit down and we can talk over a nice cup of green tea.”
“I’d like to speak to you in private.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“No,” I said, not bothering to keep the anger out of my voice. If he didn’t get up in five seconds, I’d drag him kicking and screaming. However, he stood up, sparing us both the embarrassment. He turned to Noriko and muttered something in Japanese, which just fried my ass. “It’s rude to speak in a foreign language when you’re with someone who can’t understand.”
“Is it? I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just excusing myself.”
“And you couldn’t say that in English?”
“What’s this all about, Sloan?” Cole said, shutting the bedroom door. “You’ve been gone for days, and now you walk in here, throwing your weight around and being a total jerk.”
“This is my home, and I can act anyway I want.”
“We have a guest, and I would hope you’d be more considerate.”
“Your ‘guest’ is a paid for, wrapped up present from daddy. Did you know that?”
“I knew Noriko was being paid to surrogate. Why are you so surprised?”
“Do you know what a mizuage is?”
He frowned at me. “Why?”
“Ken bid on Noriko’s, especially for you.”
“How do you know?”
“Would you like me to read off the e-mail from the Japanese detective?” Fortunately I’d saved them all to my phone.
“What detective?” Cole asked, sounding shocked to hear that word.
“You said I could do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this.”
“I didn’t say you could invade her privacy.”
“How in fucking else am I supposed to find out anything without hiring someone?”
“I don’t know,” Cole said, raising his voice. “Why don’t you let it go, Sloan? I’ve already made up my mind.”
“Isn’t our relationship worth fighting for?”
He sighed and turned away, running his fingers through his long hair in frustration. He looked incredibly distinguished in his kamishimo. The exaggerated shoulders of the sleeveless vest worn over his kimono made him look larger than life and more powerful, as well as foreign and unreachable. I felt like I was with a stranger instead of the man I’d shared a life with for the last five years. I sank down on my knees in front of him. “Turn around, Cole.”
He turned and stumbled, almost falling on top of me. “Why are you kneeling?”
“So you can tell how desperate I am. Believe me when I say that I’m committed to our relationship. I will never leave you. Not today or next week or three years down the road. Don’t make any decisions about children and marriage because all of a sudden you think I’m going to cheat. I’m not.”
“Sloan,” Cole sighed, sinking down on his knees in front of me. We were now eye to eye. He held my face in his hands and wiped away the tears that were dribbling down my cheek. He kissed me gently and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back his own tears. “I love you passionately,” he said, kissing me once more. “You were the only thing that kept me from losing my mind, a precious gift I’ve had for a long time. But I need to set you free. I don’t want you to look at me years down the road and wonder whatever happened to your youth, or wonder about all the opportunities you’ve pushed away due to your loyalty. We’ve grown apart in many ways. You’re healthy and thriving, a success.” Cole’s voice broke, and he paused to get himself under control. “You don’t need me for anything.”
“That’s not true,” I said, interrupting him. “I need your love and support.”
“You’ll always have that, but you need to experience everything life has to offer without being hampered by a blind man. We want different things right now. I want a family, children, and yes, a wife who needs me to survive. If I dropped dead, you’d manage just fine. Noriko will give me what I want, and in exchange I will give her my name, my loyalty, and my respect as the mother of my children. It’s more than money, Sloan.”
“Cole,” I whispered, clutching him fiercely against my chest. “You’re not straight.”
“That’s the least of it.”
“Are you willing to settle for a passionless existence for the sake of children? Didn’t I tell you I was ready to have them if we had a different scenario? Another surrogate you wouldn’t have to marry?”
“Noriko’s pledged herself to me, and if what you’re saying is true, and I’ve paid for her mizuage, it would be the greatest dishonor for me to send her back to Japan. She will lose face and will probably kill herself.”
“What about me? Aren’t you worried that I’ll go on a cutting spree? Aren’t my feelings as valid as hers?”
“Of course they are, but I know you’ll be fine, Sloan. You’re so over that phase of your life.”
I pushed him away. “Uh huh.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Aren’t you always?”
“You’ll get over it, and we’ll go back to being friends.”
“You’re in denial.”
“No, I’m not. When my sons are born, I want you to be their godfather. They’ll need someone to teach them how to play baseball.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll teach them how to accessorize instead?”
“Stop being ridiculous.”
“The only one in this room who’s being ridiculous is you. You’re pushing away my love because I’m not needy enough. If that’s what it takes to make you happy, then go ahead, marry Noriko, and spend the rest of your life pretending. I’ve got far better things to do.”
I left the apartment without saying another word. If I stayed for one more minute, I’d break down completely. I was not about to give Noriko that satisfaction. Fuck her and her putrid honor.
Chapter 19
I DROVE straight to Tribeca. The weed I’d procured from Tin was hidden away in a drawer, deep in the bowels of Max’s studio, and it would be my salvation, at least until I’d sorted out my scrambled brain.
Cole’s words kept repeating in my head. You don’t need me anymore. Was he that self-absorbed? Did I have to be bleeding all over the tiles for him to feel wanted? What kind of relationship did we have if my neediness was the only thing keeping him around? Or were those words simply an excuse to push me out the door? Once again this boiled down to his parents’ influence, demands, and expectations. I was sick of competing against the “right” thing to do. I was the right thing! None of them were around when he needed them. How could he forget everything we’d been through?
By the time I got to the studio I was shaking. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, about eight hours ago, and my blood sugar was at zero. With all the shocks to my system, it was a wonder I could still walk and talk. Instead of stopping in the kitchenette to see what I could scrounge up by way of food, I headed to the utility room, where I’d stored the weed. It was still in the original baggie Tin had purchased, beside the brand new pack of blades I’d bought on an impulse. I reached for the blades, holding them in my trembling hands before dropping them back into the brown bag, and tucking it away like some dark secret. Just seeing them reassured me that there was more than one way to escape. If the weed didn’t do the trick, the blades would.
The strong Jamaican hemp threw me for a loop, setting off a crying jag instead of making me feel better. When I was done with my pity party, I headed for the refrigerator and decided I’d better eat something before I fainted. There were a few boxes of Stouffer’s in the freezer, and I picked the Tuscan Chicken and nuked it. It helped with the shakes, and I could feel my body sucking up the protein and carbohydrates. As soon as I’d had my meal, I got sleepy. Lethargy was replacing the nervous tension that had gripped me all day. I moved over to the sofa, stretched out, and fell asleep in minutes.
THE NEXT thing I was aware of was someone shaking my shoulder. I kept swatting the annoying hand away, but it was persistent.
“Darling, wake up.”
I popped open one eye and saw Max looking down at me with concern. “What are you doing sleeping on my sofa?”
Rolling over, I bu
ried my face in the upholstery. “Go away,” I muttered. I could feel the tears starting up again, and I was not going to succumb to another round of weeping. The last thing I wanted was for Max to feel sorry for me.
“I’m not going away, Sloan. You may as well talk to me.”
“Shit.” I rose up on my elbows and thought about my response. Whatever I admitted would be the official version, and the talk of the fashion world, so I chose my words very carefully. “It’s over with Cole.”
“What?”
I sat up and reached for the toke I’d left in the ashtray. There was plenty left for another round. Using it as a delaying tactic, I spent an inordinate amount of time lighting and inhaling deeply, all the while aware of Max’s quiet gaze. Finally, when I felt the hit, I said. “I am officially single and available. Wanna fuck me?”
“Jesus, Sloan. What happened?”
“He’s chosen Noriko.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true. Cole says she needs him more than I do. Personally, I think he’s having a mid-life crisis.”
“It does sound like that, doesn’t it?” Max commiserated. “Whatever happened to his promise to wait? Didn’t you tell him you were having her investigated?”
“Oh yeah,” I said, “here’s the latest newsflash from Tokyo. Noriko Evans is a third generation geisha whose precious mizuage was purchased by Ken Fujiwara.”
Max frowned. “You can’t be serious.”
“You know what that is?”
“Yes, I do,” Max said, nodding. “I thought that part of the geisha world ceased to exist years ago.”
“Apparently not,” I snorted. “Her honor would be severely damaged if Cole were to reject her and send her back.”
“Your father-in-law is a devious SOB.”
“The motherfucker couldn’t have chosen a better way to mess with Cole’s head. Unfortunately, I’m paying the price.”
Cutting Cords Page 33