Comfort 4: Command Performance

by Annabel Joseph

  Well, innocent in an emotional sense. Tomorrow, officially, her physical innocence would be gone.

  He lay back on his bed with a sigh and dialed Sats.

  “Hello?”

  “Satya, hey. It’s Mason.”

  “I know.”

  “Too late to talk?”

  “I’m in New York, so yes,” she said in irritation. “But now I’m awake, so go ahead. What’s up?”

  “What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up. Tomorrow’s the night.”

  “What night?”

  “You know. The night.”

  Satya snorted. “I would have thought you’d busted through that cherry long before now.”

  “The cherry is still intact. Until tomorrow night. Boo-ya.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “I know you don’t think I should do it, but she asked me to. She’s begged me several times.”

  “Yeah, that totally makes it okay. Because twenty-four year old virgins know what they want.”

  “I miss talking to you, Satya. Especially when you turn on the sarcasm.”

  “If that’s true, why don’t you call anymore?”

  Mason felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t even known Satya was in New York, he was so preoccupied with his own life. “I’m mostly spending time with Miri.”

  “Yeah? Doing what?”

  “Non-penetratively perverting her. Teaching her the ins and outs of blowjobs, obviously, along with some other stuff I don’t dare tell you about.”

  “Thank God. So where’s the Virgin Miri tonight? Shouldn’t you be spending these last hours kneeling before the altar of her intact hymen?”

  Mason ignored the derision in her voice. “She’s at her dad’s. He fell and hit his head or something and needed stitches, and she’s staying there tonight to help him out.” He paused, touching his lips. “I don’t know. There’s something weird going on there above and beyond the stage dad nonsense. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Ew. Not some kind of molestation-child-abuse thing?”

  “She’s twenty-four.”

  “No, I mean when she was younger. It would explain why she’s so sex aversive.”

  Mason thought about the various carnal encounters they’d shared over the past few weeks. “She’s not sex aversive. She came so many times last night while I was going down on her that—”

  “La la la la la la la! Too much information. Listen hon, I wish you the best tomorrow. And her. I still can’t believe she chose you to take her virginity though, with that massive schlong you’re packing.”

  “Must you be crass?”

  “She could just as easily have visited that sex shop on Hollywood Boulevard and bought the Pussy Destroyer dildo and done the deed herself. It would have been a lot less messy and she wouldn’t have had to stare at your ugly face while it was going on.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to know if there’s really a Pussy Destroyer dildo out there, or how you would know if there is. How are you, my lovely Indian lass? Missing my massive schlong, obviously.”

  “No, I’m not. I met someone.”

  Mason absorbed her smug exclamation with a mixture of happiness for her and unexpected jealousy. “Really, you met someone?”

  “Do you have to sound so surprised? Yes, I met someone. A very kind, intelligent man with gainful income and a gorgy loft in the city.”

  “In the city? New York City?”

  Satya tsked. “Try to keep up.”

  “But you live in L.A.”

  “They have these things called airplanes.”

  Mason wasn’t enjoying this conversation. Satya loved New York and did most of her work there. If she met a New Yorker and fell in love...

  “Is he a nice guy?” he forced himself to ask. “What’s his name?”

  Satya hesitated for a moment before she spoke. “This thing is pretty new. I don’t want to share all that yet. This might be nothing.”

  But he could tell from the strain in her voice that she really wanted it to be something. “I should let you go. Mr. Gorgy Loft might be trying to call.”

  “Call me tomorrow, Mace. Or in a few days. Whenever you emerge from your hymen-bursting-induced euphoria and return to earth.”

  “Will do.” He hung up, resting his phone against his chest. God, he was happy for Satya. She sounded hopeful and excited. He was excited too. When he was with Miri, he felt something more than sex urges and public relations image repair. He felt something a lot more than friendship. He just wasn’t sure if it was powerful enough to overcome everything stacked against them.

  Well, whatever. They’d worry about that later.

  One more day.

  *** *** ***

  “Do you need anything else, dad?”

  Her father scowled up at her from his recliner, eight stitches in a line across his forehead. “Why, you leaving? You going back to his place?”

  Miri sighed. “I said I’d stay here tonight.”

  “To be sure I don’t drink?”

  She picked up her father’s dinner plate and turned away to the kitchen. “I think it should be your responsibility to control your actions, but yes. You need to not drink. You should have told the truth to the doctors about why you fell, rather than having them run all those tests.”

  Her father shrugged. “They run those tests anyway. That’s how they make their money. It’s all a sham, just like you and that jackass and your fake love affair.”

  “Mason. His name is Mason.” And it’s not a sham. She wanted to say the words so badly but she couldn’t. She fell a little more in love with Mason each day, but he still treated her like a mixture of student and sex slave, with a little gentlemanly behavior in between, when they were in front of the cameras. Fake stories, fake smiles. Finally, talk of Mason’s extracurricular sex hijinks were dying down. Would he drop her when he didn’t need her anymore? She wished she could get him to fall in love with her, head-over-heels, soulmates-for-all-eternity kind of love, but she knew that was unlikely to happen, especially in this town.

  She stuck her head back into the living room. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Is it decaf?”

  Miri frowned. “The doctor said—”

  “Don’t want it if it’s decaf,” he barked. “And I’m not an invalid.”

  “No,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re an alcoholic.”

  “What’s that?”

  Miri turned to her father and forced the words out loud and clear. “I said you’re an alcoholic.”

  Her father blanched. Never, in the ten or so years since she’d understood he had a drinking problem, had she confronted him about it like this. She felt kind of sick as the words hovered between them. She braced for yelling, for accusations about her promiscuity to be flung back at her. But after a moment he laughed, a dry, forced laugh.

  “Whatever,” he said. “Leave me alone. My head’s starting to hurt.”

  Miri felt like her face was going to shatter from trying to hide her feelings, from the worry and anger that roiled underneath. His worsening alcoholism made her feel so powerless. She was losing her grandma...and her father too. “Do you want some medicine?”

  “No.”

  “The doctor said—”

  “Mireille. Enough.”

  Miri clamped her mouth shut and escaped upstairs, away from her father and the unease and shame that dogged her whenever he was around. Her phone rang and she pounced on it, silencing the noise. “Hello?”

  “I miss you, beautiful.”

  “Oh, Mason.”

  “Thank God this thing with your dad happened tonight instead of tomorrow night.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you excited?”

  “My dad’s fine, thanks for asking.”

  There was a silence on the other end of the line. “Forgive me. I’m preoccupied. And an ass. I’m glad your father’s fine. How about you, are you okay?”

  “I’m mostly okay.” She curled up on her bed. “I mis
s you.”

  “Listen, I’ll let you get back to your dad, but we’ll be traveling tomorrow. I thought you should know.”

  “Traveling where?”

  “Do you have a passport?”

  “Mason!”

  “You’ll need a passport, but don’t freak out. It’s going to be great. Pack for a few days—and get your rest tonight.”

  “Mason...”

  “What, honey?”

  I’m afraid I won’t live up to your expectations. I’m afraid you won’t care about me anymore once it’s done. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you, which is exactly what you warned me would happen. “I’m a little bit afraid.”

  “Aw, Miri. You’re giving me a hard-on.”

  She turned her head, hearing a clatter of broken glass from the kitchen. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good ni—”

  Miri hung up on him and took off down the stairs.

  *** *** ***

  The next morning, with her dad settled and relatively sober, Miri stopped by to check on her grandma at Willow Oaks. “I won’t be able to come for two or three days, okay, Grammy? If you need anything, just tell one of the staff, or have them call dad.” Miri’s grandma gave her a puzzled look. “You know, my dad. Your son? Peter?”

  “Peter is away at college.”

  “No, he’s not. He lives just five minutes away, and if you need anything, he can help, okay?” Still the blank look. Miri sighed. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Well, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Where are you going? Are you going away forever?” Grammy asked, her eyes widening in alarm.

  “No, just for a few days, to be with a friend. I’ll be back by the weekend.”

  The old woman reached out to touch her chin, as if studying a stranger. “Such a beautiful girl. Why are you sad?”

  Miri took a shuddery breath. “Because I’m falling in love. And I don’t want to.”

  “You don’t want to?” She looked confused. “But love is good. Love is supposed to make you smile.”

  “Not unrequited love.”

  The word unrequited was definitely beyond the capabilities of her grandma. Miri could see the curtain coming down, the smothering cloud of confusion. “I’m sorry,” Miri said quickly. “Don’t worry about my problems. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “I like when you visit.” Grammy put a gnarled, cool hand over Miri’s. “Take care, and enjoy yourself.”

  Sometimes her grandma seemed so close, so much like the old grandma. Miri gazed into her eyes and gave her a warm smile. “I love you, Grammy.”

  She walked out of Willow Oaks into late morning sunlight, determined to put away her concerns about her dad and her grandma. For God’s sake, the day had arrived. Her long-awaited de-virginization. Mason had already buzzed her four times.

  Y R U NOT HERE YET??!! he texted. MY COCK NEEDS U!!

  This was what she’d wanted, what she’d asked for. She had to play it through.

  Chapter Nine: Cap Camil

  The ocean stretched before them, calm and blue, a Caribbean paradise. Mason looked over at Miri as they walked along the beach, trying to gauge her mood. Oh, she was sweet and smiling, but there was some edge underneath. Nerves? Probably. He felt them too. He’d brought her out here to the shore first, to the water, because once they holed up inside they weren’t coming out for a good long while.

  He’d taken her on a chartered flight to St. Barts, and from there a private ferry to Cap Camil, a tiny island that was home to a lone seaside cottage. His cottage, bought last year. It was cloak and daggers stuff, trying to sneak out of the country without the paps catching wind of their flight plan. The media hounded them. It had become a frustrating game, avoiding them but still playing to the masses. These few days, anyway, Mason was determined he and Miri would be on their own, and this far-flung enclave was the perfect place to escape.

  Miri was her usual bright self the entire trip. On arrival, she’d stroked his ego, exclaiming over the house. It was small and squat, but beautiful inside, with designer furnishings and windows and doors wide open to the sea. She oohed and aahed over all the things he took for granted. The champagne, the flowers, the luxe decor. The massive round bed in the back, with the window overhead for staring up at the moon. The house was stocked for a week, although they didn’t have that long.

  “Miri.” He held out his hand for her as sand squished beneath their feet. “I’ve never brought anyone to this place. Only you.”

  “How many places do you have?” she asked.

  “Not too many.” He had twenty-one properties all over the world, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. He’d considered taking her to his remote English cottage or his forty-two million dollar chateau in the French countryside, but thought better of it. A little excessive for a two-day trip. It was also a bitch to get the chateau up and running when it wasn’t being rented out regularly. He ought to just sell the thing, money pit that it was, but his financial advisor lectured him about investments and the future and Mason threw up his hands and did as he was told. He ought to learn about all these things for himself so he could manage his own life rather than hire minions to do it. Someday he would...when he had more time.

  Miri dropped his hand and leaned to pick up a shell. She held the battered conch to her ear and gave him one of her silly looks. “I can hear the ocean.”

  “Oh, can you?” He grabbed her, slung her over his shoulder and ran toward the water. “You can feel the ocean too. It’s right here.”

  She shrieked as he galloped into the waves. When he was chest deep he tumbled her into the water. She came up out of the azure depths sputtering and laughing. “Now my clothes are all wet.”

  “Take them off,” he said. “We’re alone here.” He gazed down at her gauzy tank top, now rendered completely see-through. Her nipples were tight beneath the cotton material. Well, it was early spring. The water was a little cool.

  Her laughing expression turned shy, then sultry as she pulled the sopping wet top over her head. Jesus, she was beautiful. Slight curve to her waist, rounded hips, and perfect-sized, natural breasts. He strode back to the shore and flung off his shirt, took off his canvas shorts. They walked up the beach to spread their wet clothes on some rocks and faced each other, naked and free in the warmth of the sunny day.

  “We’re like savages.” She laughed, looking around.

  Savages...she had no idea. He took deep breaths, in, out, in, out. They were comfortable by this point with each other’s nudity, but her beauty still caught him in the gut. The sun, the waves, the breeze in her hair and the glow of her pearlescent skin. She didn’t do tanning. No plastic surgery...he’d know if she’d had plastic surgery. He remembered the location of all Jessamine’s scars, but Miri didn’t have them. She was a natural woman, a savage female staring out at the waves. She turned back, her gaze caught by his burgeoning erection. She gave him a speculative look.

  “Now that we’re naked...”

  “No, not yet.” No, he wasn’t ready yet. Well, he was ready, but... “Let’s swim for a while. Enjoy the waves and water before it gets dark.”

  “Cool. I never swam naked before.” She headed for the water, kicking up sand as she sashayed across the beach. My God, her ass. Assfucking wasn’t on the menu for the weekend but...oh God. He couldn’t wait until he took that virginity too. He realized he was busily making plans for three, four, five months down the line.

  “Come on.” She turned in the eddies and beckoned him. “Come swim with me.” He walked down the beach, entranced by her smile. She ran ahead of him, barging into the water, diving under and then coming up for air. He grabbed her and embraced her there in the surf, burying his face in her neck.

  “You smell like a savage,” he murmured. He grasped her ass, pulling her forward against his cock. Again, he felt the wild impulse to simply drive into her. They were here. They were ready. What was he waiting for? There in the sun and the sand, with
the waves pounding in an age old rhythm, he became aware of what he was waiting for.

  “I need this to be real,” he said, pressing his cheek to hers.

  She pulled away from him. “What do you mean?”

  He pushed her soaked, tangled locks back from her face. “I want this to be real. I mean, I think it is real. I think I feel things— I think I’m—” I’m falling in love with you. Just say it. “I don’t want to do this and have you think it’s only about sex. About taking your virginity.”

  “About my hymen?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled, feeling a little of his anxiety ebb away. “This time I’ve spent with you... It’s not about appearances anymore. Not for me. It hasn’t been for a while. So I want to be straight with you and tell you...”

  A wave crashed over them, drenching them both. Miri laughed and scrubbed at her face as he tilted his head to empty his ears out.

  “Mason.” She put her hands on his shoulders with a giddy smile. “I’ve felt the same way. I didn’t want to say anything because... I don’t know. You’re such a big star. I know you’re busy and stressed out. I don’t want to be a drag on you.”

  “A drag? You’re the only thing going for me right now. The only meaningful thing anyway.” He drew her closer, pulled her right against his chest. “But I can’t offer you peace or privacy or a regular relationship, you know? My life is crazy, that’s not going to change. So I understand if you want to keep things simple, keep things the way they’re supposed to be. An agreement. A covert reputation-repair operation. But I want you to know my feelings for you are real—this isn’t a performance. When I take you in that little house over there...” He pointed over his shoulder. “When I lay you down and make love to you, I want you to know that it’s special to me, an honor. It will always be special to me. Because I...I care for you so much.”

  It wasn’t a declaration of love. He couldn’t quite do it. Not yet. But he wanted her to know the truth, that being with her wasn’t just meaningless sex to him.