Pleasure Point: The Complete Series

by Evans, Jennifer

  Tyler didn’t say anything for what seemed like forever. “Well, if you don’t need a ride, I gotta get going. See you at home.” With a little salute, he turned to walk down the block. Jax and I stood motionless, watching Tyler’s form recede. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at us. Twice.

  After Tyler was out of view, I put my head down, hurrying ahead of Jax. He ran after me, gripped my arm, and spun me around. “Well, that was a total bust,” I said. “What the hell are you going to tell him?”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said.

  My cheeks burned. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

  “No! It’s not,” he said. “Tyler’s totally cool. I said I’ll handle it, and I will.”

  I crossed my arms. “You do that, Jax.” Turning on my heel, I stormed ahead of him.

  Jax trotted after me, and snatched my arm. “Wait.”

  The throngs of people walking the streets closed in on me. I shrugged out of his grasp. “Stop! Leave me alone.”

  He spun me around so we were face to face. “Rosalyn, are you crying?”

  I wiped away a tear. “Did you really think we could get away with this forever?” I said. “We managed to stay under the radar for a grand total of three months.”

  His eyes were pleading. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  A sour taste filled my mouth. “I am. What are we going to do?”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll talk to him.”

  I needed to smoke some of the stuff I’d just scored.

  And fast.

  Jax

  When I got home that afternoon, Tyler was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, both hands clasped behind his head.

  I lay down on my bed, on my side, facing him. “What’s up, bro? You okay?”

  His eyes didn’t leave the ceiling. “What’s going on between you and Rosalyn?”

  “Well, nothing really—”

  “Don’t lie to me. I knew it. I fucking knew it. I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other.”

  “It’s like this,” I said, trying to keep the trembling out of my voice, “Rosalyn’s really cool and we’ve been hanging out a lot and we sort of … we sort of kiss and stuff.”

  He took a deep breath, let it out and said, “Kiss? You’re kissing Rosalyn?”

  I couldn’t lie to my brother. “Yeah, well, we kiss, and we’ve been doing other stuff too.”

  His head jerked in my direction. “Other stuff, like what?”

  “Other stuff like, we’ve had a few groping sessions and it all just kind of happened and … Jesus Christ, Tyler, we’ve been going at it pretty good.” My palms grew sweaty. I had to convince Tyler. Rosalyn and I were great together.

  “Going at it?”

  “Okay, we’ve been having sex.”

  He popped off the bed and paced our small room, raking his hand through his hair. “Jesus, Jax, are you crazy? You can’t do this.” He stopped pacing and shot me a look. “Rosalyn is mom’s friend! She’s a lot older than you. What’s the matter with you?”

  I reached out to touch my brother’s arm, but he jerked away.

  “It’s okay, I know what I’m doing.”

  He started pacing again. “You don’t know anything! I mean she’s hot and everything, but what’re you thinking? Is there even a brain in that sun-bleached head of yours?”

  I looked down at my feet. He said, “Jax, you are in deep shit. You can’t just go screwing her.” He stopped pacing. “Oh my God … what if you get her pregnant?”

  “She’s on the pill.”

  “Yeah, well people forget to take those pills. Are you ready to have a kid?”

  “We’re not gonna have kids. We’re just having—”

  “Having what?”

  “Fun.”

  “I knew it! I knew something like this was gonna happen to you. You know why? Because you don’t think. You can’t do this, bro. It’s suicide. If mom and dad find out about this—”

  I stood up. “Listen to me. They’re not gonna find out. Because nobody’s going to tell them. Right?” My mouth felt dry. “Promise me you won’t say anything.”

  Tyler rubbed his jaw. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? What if Rosalyn talks?”

  I knew my brother. He wouldn’t rat me out. I leaned forward and touched his arm. “C’mon, lighten up.”

  He sighed heavily, sat down and said, “Jesus Christ, Jax, you’re crazy. How’d this thing start?”

  And I told him the whole story. He listened, not making any comment. When I finished, I said, “Hey, look at me. You’re my only brother. You know me better than anybody, so what I’m gonna tell you … you’ll know it’s the truth. I am in love with Rosalyn.”

  He bolted upright. “How do you know you’re in love?”

  “Because I know.”

  “How?”

  “Because I can’t stop thinking about her. I wake up every morning with her on my mind. I think about her all day long, I go to sleep dreaming about her, and when we’re not together, I can’t wait until I see her again. And I want to protect her. She needs a man to take care of her. She’s different, Tyler. She’s laid back and funny and easy to be with. And she needs me. Tyler … I am in love with Rosalyn.”

  “But you can’t know that. You’re too young!”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be in love.” He pointed to his chest. “And I’m the one who’s got chicks hanging around the band saying they love me and want me.” His eyebrows knit in concern. “How could you know what love is? You’re just my little brother.”

  “I’m not little anymore.” I stood up and towered over Tyler as if to prove my point.

  “There’s so much we haven’t done yet. How can you even know what you want? Are you sure about this?” he said.

  “One hundred percent.”

  I sat on my bed, my heart pounding. Even though I knew I probably wasn’t going to get it, I wanted Tyler’s approval. His eyes narrowed. He pointed a finger at me. “You better be careful.”

  My head down, I glanced up at my brother. “We will.”

  The room went quiet and I could hear Tyler breathing, short gasps of breath. “Do you know how much trouble she’d be in if you got caught?”

  I stood up and touched Tyler’s arm. He flicked it away. “I know. Mom would kill her. But we’re careful. And we’re so good together, Tyler.”

  He glared at me. “She’s just using you. She’s got no intention of anything other than maybe a few rolls in the hay.”

  Rosalyn was not using me. How dare Tyler say that? Adrenaline surged through my system. I wanted to kill my brother. My body tensed, my muscles twitched, and Tyler didn’t see it coming when I jumped him. He fell against his bed, and bumped his head against the wall. “Get off of me!”

  I put Tyler in a headlock. “Take it back! Take it back right now or you’re not going to live to play your precious guitar to the ladies one more night.” My teeth clenched, my face flushed.

  “Leave me alone,” he said through a windpipe that was slowly being closed off. “Let me up. Now.”

  I loosened my grip slightly. “I want you to listen real good. Rosalyn and I have something special. Maybe she doesn’t see it yet, but she will.”

  Tyler said, “In about a million years.”

  I tightened my hold again. “I said, take it back.”

  His face turned red. “Okay, okay, I take it back.”

  I let go, and Tyler sat on his bed, rubbing his neck. “Jesus, you didn’t have to go all ballistic on me.” He looked at me. “You and Roz just keep doing what you’re doing. You think you’re in love, but this thing’s going to run out of steam.”

  “Maybe it will, maybe it won’t.” I crossed my arms. “You promise not to say anything?”

  “Of course not.” He cradled his face in his hands, then after what seemed like hours, he peeked out at me. “So what’s it lik
e?”

  “What’s what like?”

  “You know … sex.”

  I broke into a grin. “Pretty unfuckingbelievable.”

  “This is unreal.”

  “C’mon, bro, you’ll see what it’s like when you meet somebody you feel this way about.”

  He exhaled. “You better be careful.”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die.” I sat next to my brother, putting my arm around him. “It’s going to be okay. I’m happy. Happier than I ever thought I could be. Now I get what the big deal is all about. Pinkie swear we don’t tell?”

  He gave a reluctant grin and held out his pinkie. “Pinkie swear.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, pinkie swore, and then gave my big brother a hug.

  Rosalyn

  Palm Springs is a desert city in California known for its hot springs, retirees and golf courses, but for Carissa and me, it was a place we’d agreed to meet for a girl’s weekend to work on creative projects and partake of a little sacred herb.

  Jax and I had been doing our thing for almost four months the day I pulled Ol’ Betsy up to The Paradise Inn. The place looked like a refurbished Bates Motel, with its rooms neatly lined up to one side, the swimming pool with an assortment of lawn chairs with plastic webbing underneath the shade of massive palm trees.

  After I checked in with the front desk, I waited for Carissa to arrive while sitting in the over air-conditioned lobby and thumbing through a back issue of Desert Life magazine. I learned that should I decide to grow an herb garden in the desert, I’d need to water it twice a day.

  “Rosalyn!” Carissa shrieked when she sashayed into the lobby, loaded with a square train case in one hand and a suitcase in the other. The train case had two bumper stickers affixed to it. One said, “I Brake For No One” and the other advised me to “Give Peace A Chance.” Her flaming red hair cascaded behind her. She dropped the bags at her feet and ran to me. “Give me a hug.” She embraced me tightly as I inhaled the scent of Patchouli mixed with sacred herb. “Let me look at you,” she said. “Being back here agrees with you. Damn girl, you’re glowing.”

  I laughed. “Guess I’m settling in okay.”

  We collected her bags, she connected her arm through mine, and we made our way to room number seven. “Did you bring your paints?” I asked.

  “Of course I did. We’ll work on a desert landscape. Hot damn, driving through the desert, I got all kinds of inspiration. The colors here are un-flippin-believable.”

  We got settled into our room. Carissa pulled off the cheap bedspread and replaced it with a feather comforter she’d brought from home. “This thing’s gross. God knows the last time they changed it,” she said. “I don’t even want to know who came on this thing.”

  I laughed. “Stop. That’s disgusting.”

  “Well, you know I’m right. Oh my God, Roz, wait until I tell you about this groovy musician I met down at the local watering hole last week.” Her eyes glazed over. “Wouldn’t mind spending a few nights in a hotel room with him.” Carissa was exactly the way I remembered, full of energy, ready for a party or creative project, and eager to discuss her sex life. “What about you? Met anybody in Point Loma yet?”

  I became extra busy with emptying the contents of my suitcase into the particle-board dresser. “Nope.”

  “Well, why not?” She stopped unpacking and stared at me. “There’s all kinds of hip surfers down at the beach.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Or maybe there’s somebody at work?”

  “Why’re you so intent on me getting laid?” I didn’t feel comfortable lying to Carissa, but didn’t think she’d understand.

  “Because that’s what we do.” She picked up a pair of jeans and swatted me with them. “Or at least we wish we were.” She smoothed out the feather comforter then jumped on the bed. She patted the bed and said, “Come, sit. Let’s get caught up. Grab my bag, will you?” I handed Carissa her purse and she extracted a small bag of pot, filled her metal pipe and lit up. She took a long toke then handed me the pipe. I took a quick puff and handed it back. Throwing her head back against the wall, she said, “It’s lonely without you in Santa Fe. But I’m super happy you decided to go back to school.” She took another toke. “There’s so much more here in California. Jobs, school.” She sat up and tucked her legs underneath her. “Hey, how’re surf lessons going? Lydia’s son still giving you lessons? His name’s Jax, right?”

  I took the pipe out of her hand, taking an extra long toke. “Yep.”

  She clapped her hands together. “Oh, I love that name. If I ever have a boy, I’m going to name him Jax.”

  I swatted her. “You’re not having a kid.”

  Carissa’s eyes went wide. “Why not? Don’t you want kids one day?”

  I held the pipe in front of me, studying the swirly design of the shaft. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Carissa removed the pipe from my hand. “Roz, we’ve got to start thinking about this stuff. When are we going to settle down?”

  I crossed my arms. “I don’t want to settle down.”

  She eyed me. “Why not?”

  “Because.” I picked at the hem of my skirt. “I’m not ready.”

  “But one day you’ll want that, right? I mean, I know you and I have been free and easy for a lot of years, but I gotta tell you, since you moved and went back to school, it’s got me thinking about my future. We can’t keep on acting like teenagers forever.”

  I grabbed the pipe away from Carissa, took a satisfying toke and handed it back. “You know I haven’t done well in the relationship department.”

  Carissa patted my thigh. “I know. But there’s got to be good men out there. Just because you’ve dated your share of losers, doesn’t mean—”

  I folded my arms. “Do you have to remind me of those bums?”

  She took a drag and held the pipe, gazing at the swirling smoke. “Remember that guy who followed you around and looked through your windows? And the one who left so many messages on your machine he ran the tape out?”

  I snatched the pipe away. “Stop. It’s not funny.”

  She giggled. “You know what was funny? The dude who called on your birthday and left a long message saying how much he loved you, then sang happy birthday in that high pitched voice like he was training for the opera.” In a screechy voice, Carissa affected her best impression of my beloved’s botched rendition of the song.

  I slapped my thigh. “We just about peed our pants listening to that message. Then he told me he got high on mushrooms every single day. That was after I’d already been dating him for a few weeks.”

  “I suppose you could’ve had a life with him where he collected the mushrooms and you made the tea.”

  I fanned myself with a magazine. “Yes, darling, I’m ready to trip again. For the hundredth time this year.”

  Carissa and I looked at each other and burst into laughter. When the laughter died down she said, “So you’ll find somebody better next time. Somebody you don’t have to take to court for a restraining order like you did with Devin.”

  I sat up straight on the bed and pointed an index finger at Carissa. “That is exactly what I’m talking about. I’m terrible at picking men. Can’t we just have a fun weekend and not talk about serious stuff?”

  She smiled. “You’re right. Live in the moment?”

  “Right.”

  Jax was different than all those other guys. I missed him already. We’d been seeing each other about three times a week, making sure that when he came over his mom and dad would be safely at work. He’d show up at my place, his skateboard skidding to a stop at my front door, and when I heard the sound of him popping the skateboard up into his hands, my heart beat so wildly it made me dizzy. Then, we’d lock the door behind us, and I’d rip off his T-shirt and unzip his jeans. Sometimes I’d get on my knees right there in the living room and suck him off until he came in my mouth, his eyes closed, his head thrown back, his moans so deep and sexy that I almost cam
e myself, just from feeling his legs tighten as he jerked and spasmed in my mouth.

  Then, we’d kiss, and he’d look me in the eye and say, “C’mon baby, let me take care of you now.” He’d lead me by the hand into my bedroom, and just the way I taught him, he’d undress me, lay me on the bed, spread my legs and gently work his tongue and hands all over my body, teasing, tugging at my pubic hair, making slow circles with his warm hands until he zeroed in on my sweet spot. Then he’d work his magic until I screamed.

  I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I also knew that Jax wouldn’t tell anyone. He was mature for his age. I trusted him. Then there was the crazy hot turn on of having a sexy young man who was eager to try anything I wanted. I’d had my share of partners, and was weary of the male ego that always needed stroking. Then there were those guys who could barely get it up unless they were watching porn. That got old fast. Jax was always ready.

  I’d known Jax for around ten months by then, and maybe it was unrealistic, but I thought I was in love with him. Jax took care of me. When I was with him, I felt safe. I know he was just a teenager, and that thought made me feel queasy. But he was my best friend. He was the first man I’d met who honestly cared about my welfare, he was easy to be with, never judged me, and our sexual connection was red hot.

  Carissa and I spent the weekend taking early morning hikes in the hills of Palm Springs. We set up our easels poolside, making sure to put down a drop cloth so the grouchy manager wouldn’t yell at us for dripping paint onto the cement. We drank iced-tea and took refreshing dips in the sparkling swimming pool. In between our painting sessions, we’d steal away to our room to smoke some sacred herb. By Sunday afternoon, I felt pretty mellow. I had intended to keep my secret. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about Jax, but I needed to confide in someone.

  The sky was a particularly gorgeous shade of purple. As the shadows grew longer, the desert birds made their way to their nests while we relaxed on the chaise lounges by the pool.

  “Carissa, do you think you’ve ever been in love?”

  “Lots of times,” she said.

  “What I mean is, do you believe in soul mates?”