Want It Bad: A Kinky Romance

by Melinda DuChamp

  “Why did you let him do anything with you?”

  “I didn’t even know you two were serious.”

  “Earlier that night I told you we were serious!”

  “That? I didn’t think you were serious.”

  “You always do this, Janet. It’s not enough that you can fuck any guy you want, you have to fuck the guys I want, too.”

  “It’s not my fault that guys need to know some secret handshake to get into your pussy.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “That guy at work. How many dates before you showed him your tits?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “It was eight. You went out eight times before he even saw a nipple.”

  “There’s nothing unusual about that.”

  “You’re a prude, Carla.”

  “Am not.”

  “Prove it. Flash the cop.”

  Carla glanced at the police officer, who looked up from the notes he was taking. He shrugged.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Carla said.

  “Prude! They’re just boobs, Carla. No big deal.” Janet proved her point by opening her shirt and shaking.

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “What? That I’m not a prude?”

  Carla looked to the cop. “Aren’t you going to arrest her for exposing herself?”

  “You ladies need to settle down.”

  “You’ve always thought that you were better than me, Carla. Morally superior. When really, you’re just too afraid of not being perfect to take what you want.”

  “Really?” Carla’s cheeks burned, that hum rising in her ears. “You want to fuck everything with a pulse because you’re afraid that’s the only thing you’re good for.”

  In one motion, Janet reached up to the window, grabbed Denzel by the scrotum, and flung him straight at Carla.

  Carla ducked to the side.

  The cop didn’t.

  Whack.

  He brought his hand to his cheek. Then in three strides he was beside Janet, cupping her elbow in one hand, her wrist in the other. “You’re under arrest, ma’am.”

  “I want my lawyer,” Janet cried. She stepped backward, trying to wrest her elbow from his grip. “Carla?”

  Carla held up her hands, palms out. “I can’t help you here, Janet.”

  “You bitch! I’m glad I blew your last boyfriend!”

  “You blew Greg?”

  “You should have seen how grateful he was to have a woman who knew what she was doing!”

  “I know how to suck cock!”

  “Not according to Greg!”

  The cop cuffed Janet and ushered her to the squad car.

  How had this all gone so wrong?

  Janet safely inside the car, the officer returned to Carla, focusing hard enough to see right through her. “There’s still the matter of the window. Who broke it?”

  The front door of Carla’s house slammed. “No one cares about the window. It was an accident.”

  Jake.

  Carla cringed. Hadn’t she told him to stay inside? Hadn’t she told him she’d take care of this? She glanced over her shoulder.

  Still only wearing a towel, he crossed the lawn with big strides.

  “And who are you, sir?” the officer asked.

  “Jake Snotmallow.”

  Carla turned to him. “Your last name is Snotmallow? Like a snot marshmallow?”

  “It’s Dutch,” Jake said.

  “It’s awful.”

  Jake ignored her. “This is my house, officer.”

  “You live here?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know these two women?”

  He focused on Carla. “Yes.”

  “And the one in the squad car? She came here to see you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re also under arrest.”

  Carla stepped up, putting herself between the cop and Jake. “What’s the charge?”

  “Prostitution,” The officer said, peering at Carla with stern eyes. “And if you don’t get out of my way, you’ll leave me no choice but to take you in for obstruction of justice and disorderly conduct.”

  “Arrest her for throwing the dildo at the window!” Janet yelled from the car. “Breaking and entering! Reckless endangerment with a sex toy!”

  “Did you throw that sex toy at the window, ma’am?”

  “It’s my window,” Jake said staring at Carla. “And it was an accident. I’m not pressing charges.”

  “Charge her with sexual assault!” Janet yelled. “She raped the window with that rubber dick!”

  “Janet, will you shut the fuck up?”

  “Fuck you, Carla!”

  The cop cuffed Jake, who looked more sad than upset. The anger left Carla, being replaced by guilt as she watched the cop put him in the car. Then he came back, putting on some rubber gloves and picking up the dildo. He placed it in an evidence bag.

  Exhibit A for the prosecution.

  It should have been amusing. And maybe, someday, it would be.

  But at that very moment, Carla had never hated herself more.

  Eleven

  Although Carla was a lawyer, the day in and day out of one giant corporation suing another didn’t prepare her for the nitty gritty of an evening in the jail lobby posting bail and waiting for Jake and Janet to be set free. It had been over two hours, and the shift had changed, which resulted in Carla approaching the new woman behind the desk.

  “May I help you?”

  Carla had the strongest case of deja vu she’d ever experienced. Except it wasn’t deja vu. It was reality.

  “You’re the waitress. From the Italian restaurant.”

  The cop’s face pinched. “I get it. I’m black, and you had some black waitress wait on you, so you think we’re the same person because you white folks can’t tell one African American from the other.”

  “You waited on me and my friend. We were there for lunch last week. You tried to get me to hire the escort.”

  “That was you?” the cop smiled broadly. “Sorry, girl. You white girls all look alike to me.”

  “So you’re a waitress and a cop?”

  “Need two jobs to make ends meet. These are rough economic times.”

  No kidding, Carla thought, thinking of the clerk at the hobby shop who moonlighted at the adult bookstore. Or maybe it was vice-versa.

  “So how’d it go with that escort? You hook up?”

  “I’m in a police station. What do you think?”

  “Daaaaaamn! He got arrested? Well, prostitution is against the law. It wasn’t a good idea.”

  “You told me to do it!”

  “Who you gonna listen to, a waitress, or a cop?”

  Carla sighed. “I posted bail for him and my friend a while ago. Can you let me know when they’ll be released? It’s been a long night.”

  “I can check. What’s the man whore’s name?”

  “Snotmallow,” Carla said. “First name Jake.”

  “Snotmallow? Like a snotty marshmallow? That’s the worst name ever.”

  “I know.”

  “You get married, preacher says I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Snotmallow. No way.”

  “It’s Dutch.”

  “It’s terrible. Man whore would take my last name if we got hitched. I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Hotbox.”

  “Your last name is Hotbox?”

  Officer Hotbox pointed to her nametag. “I come from a long line of Hotboxes. Got a problem with that?”

  “No. It just sounds like the name of a woman in a James Bond film.”

  Officer Hotbox beamed. “Don’t it? Now let me see if I can find your Snotmuffin.”

  “Snotmallow.”

  “Got him.” The cop whistled. “That’s the cutest perp I’ve ever seen. He sells his body? So I can hire this man?”

  “You’re a police officer,” Carla said.

  “So because I’m a cop I don’t have physical needs?”

  “You just sa
id prostitution is against the law.”

  “So are drugs. I’m so high right now I can barely see.”

  “You are?”

  The cop gave Carla a baleful stare that basically said you’re an idiot.

  “Look,” Carla said, “I posted bail for him and my friend Janet. I just want to know when they’ll be released.”

  “Should be sometime soon. You want me to get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. That would be great. Thanks.”

  Officer Hotbox rolled her eyes. “Do I look like a waitress? You want coffee, go run to Starbucks. Sheesh.”

  Carla sat back down next to the water cooler. She picked up a pamphlet with the title, “Protect Yourself from Violent Crime”. The cartoon drawing on the front was of a terrified woman surrounded by menacing looking men with various weapons. One was carrying a medieval mace.

  “You bailed me out? I’d rather rot in jail forever.”

  Carla looked up and saw Janet standing in front of her. They’d given her some orange prison dungarees, and she was holding the Lone Ranger mask and hat. Janet had been charged with disorderly conduct and patronizing a prostitute, but luckily the cop had stopped short of assault on an officer, presumably since it was clear Janet had intended her dildo missile for Carla.

  “You have to attend a hearing, pay some fines, and everything should work out okay. Need a ride?”

  “From you? Nope.”

  “Listen Janet, I’m sorry that whole thing got so out of hand.”

  The outside door to the lobby opened, and a familiar-looking man walked in. It took a second for Carla to realize it was Jeff, the twenty-something, blond bartender from their happy hour spot.

  Carla turned back to Janet. “He’s your ride?”

  “I told him if he got me out by eleven, I’d let him get me off by eleven-fifteen.”

  Carla wasn’t sure if things would ever be the same between her and Janet, but at least Janet sounded less angry and more like her old self. “You’re going to break him in half. You know that, right?”

  “Sometimes you can’t prevent a little collateral damage.” Janet turned to Jeff, lowering her voice to a sexy rasp. “Ever do it with a jailbird? I can tell you stories, honey. The things that were done to me in there. Prison changes a girl. It’s been so long since I’ve had a man.”

  Carla didn’t mention that Janet had been with a man earlier tonight.

  Janet left the jail, Horny the Barkeep following like an eager puppy. A few minutes later, Jake emerged. He also wore orange bottoms, and a matching top that looked like hospital scrubs. But even in that ugly outfit, he was still breathtakingly gorgeous.

  The female cop behind the desk whistled.

  Jake’s eyes met Carla’s. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

  “If it wasn’t for me, the police never would have been involved. Can I give you a ride back?”

  “Sure.”

  Carla led him to where she’d parked the car. She felt horrible about the whole evening, and although Jake and even Janet seemed to have forgiven her, she knew it would take more than bail money and a ride home for her to forgive herself.

  They climbed in the car, and Carla pulled into traffic.

  “I’m sorry this happened, Jake. I’m also sorry about the window. I can call someone, have it boarded up until I can get it repaired tomorrow.”

  “It’s okay. There’s some plywood in the basement. I can do it.”

  “And you just told me how a client in your old neighborhood broke a window. I feel like an idiot.”

  Jake put both hands over his face and rubbed. “Oh, no…”

  “What?”

  “The homeowner’s association,” he said. “They’re going to find out about this and kick me out.”

  “I’ll talk to them. I won’t let them throw you out, Jake.”

  After a moment he said, “I’m giving it up, Carla.”

  “What?”

  “I’m giving up the escort business. That should be a point in my favor with the association board, right?”

  “Yes. Probably.”

  Carla focused on the road ahead of her and the hum of her tires as they crossed a drawbridge. She should be glad he was giving up prostitution, shouldn’t she? But the only thing she could think about was how she’d never again set foot in the dungeon of pleasure.

  Proof right there that I’m a selfish, horrible, depraved pervert.

  “So what will you do for a living?”

  “Devote myself to dog walking, at least for the next few years.”

  “Dog walking? You can make enough money doing that to afford to stay in Windermere? How many dogs are you planning to walk?”

  “Only one.”

  She turned to look at him.

  “The emergency I was called to on Saturday? It was Gloria Hotchland. She passed away.”

  The way he stared out the window, he looked sincerely bereft, just as he had when he’d received the call.

  “I’m so sorry, Jake.”

  “She was quite a lady. I’m going to miss her.”

  Carla nodded. “She was always kind to me.”

  “And to me. More than kind.”

  “She willed you money? The house?”

  “Me? No. She didn’t will anything to me. But Harry on the other hand, he’s rolling in the dough.”

  “Harry. The dog she got when she moved to assisted living.”

  “Yep. That hound worked magic. Happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

  “So she willed Harry to you?”

  “More like she willed me to him. I’m his caretaker. I live in his house, and he pays me a salary.”

  “Nice work if you can get it.”

  He lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I guess. I like Harry, and I’d rather quit the escort business than find another place to live.”

  Could part of his reticence about moving be not wanting to move away from me?

  Carla shook her head.

  Wishful thinking.

  They reached Windermere, and Carla drove silently down the picturesque streets, not sure what else to say.

  Jake broke the quiet. “Did you talk to your friend at the jail?”

  “Briefly.”

  “Are you two okay?”

  “Not sure. But Janet and I have been friends since we were twelve years old. We’ve had fights before. We’ve always found ways to get over it. I hope we can again.”

  “I never would have taken her as a client if I’d known she was your friend.”

  “She hired you just like I did,” Carla said, the thought of him showing himself to Janet still delivering a sting. “I had no right to feel jealous.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was. The broken window, the argument in front of the cop… It was the fucking machine all over again.”

  “The fucking machine?”

  “I lost control.”

  “That’s what makes the fucking machine amazing.”

  “Nothing good comes from losing control.” As many times as she’d embarrassed herself in the past week, none was worse than right now, explaining all this to Jake, taking responsibility for what she’d done.

  She pulled into her driveway, stopped in front of her garage, and opened her door. “Go ahead. Harry probably needs to go out. I’m sorry. See you around.”

  “See you around? What does that mean?”

  “It means I’ll see you around.”

  “It sounds like you don’t want to be friends anymore.”

  “Were we ever friends, Jake?”

  “I think we are. Yes.”

  She looked at him. “I’m your neighbor. And a client. And you were right. You shouldn’t have taken me as a client.”

  “Do you regret it? Because I don’t, Carla. I don’t regret anything.”

  Carla didn’t want to do this. She liked Jake. A lot. But she didn’t like herself and how she acted when she was around him. Losing control was bad. She wouldn’t allow it to hap
pen again.

  And that meant keeping her distance.

  Carla climbed out and started for her porch. He followed.

  “Carla, wait.”

  Keep walking.

  Don’t look back.

  “Like I said before, this whole thing, it’s not you at all. There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  Her feet slowed.

  “It doesn’t matter, Jake.”

  “What I’m trying to say is that there are things about me. Things you don’t know.”

  “And those things are your business. Not mine.”

  “I want to tell you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Carla…”

  She reached her front door and began to punch in the code. “I’m not listening, Jake.”

  “Carla. I’m a virgin.”

  Carla couldn’t have heard him right. She turned to face him. “You’re a what?”

  “A virgin. I am a virgin.”

  For a few seconds Carla was at a loss for words.

  “No fucking way,” she finally said.

  “It’s the truth. I’ve never had sex.”

  “But you’ve got a fucking sex dungeon in your house!” Carla screamed. Then she noted Rabbi Goldstein, from the Homeowner’s association board, walking his dog down the sidewalk. Carla gave him a meek wave, then leaned in and whispered. “How can you be a virgin?”

  “It’s like you said, I guess. Taking care of others is safer.”

  A virgin.

  Carla stared at him, the idea still refusing to sink into her mind.

  This man, who showed her how amazing sex could be, had never experienced it himself.

  “You’ve had a blow job though, right?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You’ve never had a blow job?”

  “Listen, Carla, I don’t really want to talk about it. I just wanted to… I don’t know. Explain things, I guess. I don’t let people get close to me, because I’m afraid they’ll leave. Everyone I’ve ever dated—I broke it off before it got serious.”

  “What about one-night stands? Cheap, meaningless sex?”

  “I don’t think sex is meaningless, Carla. I think it’s the most intimate thing two people can do. But if I’m being paid for it, I can put aside my needs. I don’t have to get attached.”

  “How about a hand job? No girl has ever given you a handie?”