LOVERS

by Roxy Harte

  She lifts her head. “Do you own a strap-on?”

  A strangled sound comes out of my throat in answer. She slides her hands under my hips and lifts me. I spread my legs, knowing she is looking at my vagina.

  “We should go shopping, get you one. Do you think you’d like an inny?”

  An inny? Like a strap-on that also penetrates? Hell, no! Doesn’t she remember what I said about—

  The air in my lungs goes out in a whoosh as she slides a finger along my labia. Her tongue follows. She does it again. Tongue, finger, tongue, finger.

  “Your opening is very small, but it will stretch once you get used to being played with. I could help you pick out a double-headed dildo so that half slides in…” She demonstrates, a single finger sliding inside me.

  An orgasm tears out of me. I think I hyperventilate, it seems like I can’t breathe, but then I realize two things at once: her mouth is closed over my clit, sucking, and her finger is fully inside of me, thrusting. She didn’t ask first.

  Adrian asked. I’d said, ‘No!’

  But Lexi didn’t even ask.

  Another orgasm tears through my body. I scream, my body spasming around her. “Holy fucking God!”

  Once I can breathe and think again…and not spasm because my body has a mind of its own…I ask, “Why did you do that?”

  She looks at me innocently. “You didn’t like it?”

  My mouth opens and closes. Of course I liked it. Yes. Yes. Yes. I loved it. Maybe that’s the problem.

  She kisses my mouth. “Are you sorry I took your virginity?”

  Can I honestly say ‘yes’ to that?

  She sits up, and I can feel I’ve upset her even before she asks, “Are you mad?”

  I sit up too, shaking my head. I assure her with a touch on her arm and try to explain. “Yes! I’ve spent my whole life fighting to not be labeled.”

  “Are you ashamed of being a lesbian?”

  “Am I?” My voice squeaks, getting louder than I should as I demand, “Am I femme then? Because I love dresses, I love dressing up? Like a little girl with frills and lace or a tutu…or am I butch? Because I shave my head and have muscles…real muscles that would put most men to shame. And regardless of whether I’m femme or dyke, am I a stone femme? Or a stone dyke? Because I don’t let people penetrate me!”

  “Oh,” she says, looking away. “I’m—”

  I raise my hand, cutting her off before she can apologize, because besides everything else, I do not want her apologizing for sticking her fingers inside of me. “Just being here…with you…I’m a little confused. This is hard for me.”

  She shakes her head, brow furrowing. “I know that it is scary to come out of the closet, but once you do, you will feel so much freer. Embrace who you are…”

  “Who I am?” I ask, shrilly. “A label is not who I am. I am so much more than who I choose to have sex with! And technically, would it really be coming out of the closet since it has been fairly assumed that I’m queer since I was twelve, so publically, I’ve been ‘out’ a long time, it’s just emotionally, mentally…I never felt secure enough before now to try to put any effort into meeting a woman, let alone to get close enough to have sex.” I’m still upset about the penetration thing…how do I talk about this without upsetting her?

  She looks away, a brilliant red flush sliding up her neck. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Please, please. Don’t be sorry. I feel horrible enough already. What we just shared was the most beautiful, amazing experience of my life, and I don’t want to tarnish it.”

  Lexi smiles at me and it is like I am being blessed by the rays of the sun after a long, dark night. I shut the hell up. There isn’t anything to say. Really. Is there?

  Chapter 29

  Jameson

  If you’d have told me a month ago, I’d be standing in Adrian’s bar asking his advice, I would have laughed. Hell, I’d have thought the idea ridiculous as recent as yesterday, but now, with my life potentially going down the drain with my shit, I’m here. “Thank you for meeting me.”

  He stands behind the bar, looking as shocked as he sounded when I called and asked if he would be available to talk.

  I manage to croak out, “Your business is doing good?”

  “Good, yes.” He wipes a pint glass out and holds it up to the light, spotless, perfect. He asks, “Draft?”

  “Sure. That would be wonderful.”

  It’s early, nine-thirty AM., but does that matter? Does anything matter anymore?

  He pushes the draft toward me and draws one for himself.

  “Aren’t we a pair? Here’s to not so happy endings,” I toast before tipping the beer and swallowing as much as I can as fast as I can.

  “Well, I won’t lie to you, Jameson, you look like shit,” Adrian tells me. “What’s happened?”

  “I’m in love with two women and fucking at least four others. Life is great, right? I should be on top of the world.”

  He lifts his eyebrow and asks, “Does Emma know you’re here?”

  “She thinks I’m at a lecture,” I admit.

  “You always take suitcases to a lecture?”

  I blush, wondering how he knows. “She thinks I’m in New York.”

  “So by being here, you’re what? Leaving her but not telling her?”

  “I’m not leaving her. I just wanted to spend a few days with Bianca.”

  “And?”

  “She wouldn’t open the door.”

  “Good for her.” Adrian sits on the stool beside me, swirling his beer.

  I shrug, saying, “I deserve that, I know.”

  “You blew it, man. Bianca won’t be with a cheater.”

  I sigh, not wanting to admit he has the truth of it. Still I argue, “I’m polyamorous. I’m not cheating!”

  He laughs. “That’s a mean lie you’re telling yourself. If Emma knew you went to Bianca’s instead of a work function, would she understand?”

  “No…and yes. Damn it, in her eyes it would be cheating if she knew I went to Bianca’s this morning, even though nothing happened. She was pretty clear about the rules when I moved back home. It’s just, when you dropped off my things…it made it too real. I wasn’t just appeasing Emma anymore, I was leaving Bianca. I can’t let it be over.”

  Adrian laughs at me, but it is a sick laugh that says he is disgusted by me and can’t stand the sight of me. Pretty much everything I’m feeling toward myself. I am surprised when he says, “Dude, do you still love your wife or not?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “So go home and tell her your lecture was cancelled. And then break it off with all those other women. What you’re doing isn’t poly, it’s cheating, and that isn’t cool.”

  I nod, setting my unfinished beer on the bar. “Thanks.”

  “And Jameson?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop being a prick and start being honest with yourself. Do you need to be poly to be who you are? Or can you start being just Emma’s husband?”

  I wish I knew. I don’t answer Adrian, but I do go home and am totally unprepared for the shoe which comes flying through the door at my head. It hits but I duck before getting nailed by the second one.

  “Go away!”

  “Emma!”

  “No, get out…go to a hotel…get an apartment…go back to Bianca…because that is what you are going to do anyway. As soon as Dawn is born, you’ll be gone again and I can’t take it!”

  She waves the letter in my face that I wrote and threw away.

  Oh, shit.

  “You broke up with me in a note. You bastard!” She throws another shoe. “You don’t deserve any more chances.”

  I crumble, dropping to my knees, crawling to her. I grab her hand, begging, pleading, crying. “I wasn’t! I swear. I wrote that note one night when I was confused.”

  She shrieks, “We have three children and a fourth on the way! Are you insane? Have you lost your mind?”

  I fall on my face. Yes, I�
��ve lost my mind.

  “I’m the one stuck at home while you fuck every slut in town wearing a skirt…poly is your excuse to cheat. Give me one good reason why I should even want you.”

  I stand, nodding. She’s right, she’s absolutely right. I’m the scum of the earth, but I don’t say that, I scream back, “And maybe being a mother is your excuse to stop being sensual.” There, I said it and I’m not sorry I did.

  “How dare you!” If rage had a face it would be Emma, eyes bulging, veins popping, scarlet flush. I should be terrified, I should back away while I still have all of my appendages, but I don’t, I stand my ground.

  “No, Emma, how dare you for stealing every shred of good I used to be. I used to like myself when I looked in the mirror, and today I may have lost forever a woman who means a great deal to me, a woman who allows me to be myself, and honestly, the only person in my life who has ever made me feel complete because she encourages my sexuality. Who we are sexually shouldn’t change just because we have children. You went into this …as I did…with your eyes wide open. You knew it would be hard to be a parent and poly, but you said that we could handle it.” Lifting my head high, shoulders back, I look Emma in the eyes before I tell her, “I want a divorce,” and I know that I mean it. With or without Bianca to run to, I want out.

  “You will never see your children,” she threatens.

  “Emma, you aren’t that powerful.”

  Chapter 30

  Adrian

  It is rare I find myself with absolutely nothing to do. I should be sleeping, catching up on reading, cleaning my apartment, a dire need at the moment, but instead I find myself flipping through channels over and over again, though I couldn’t say what, if anything, is playing at the moment.

  I don’t want to believe Jameson’s early morning visit has anything to do with my melancholy. His drama is his drama.

  Whatever is going on with Jameson, Bianca, and Emma does not concern me.

  Toby is at her own place. She keeps a studio, and citing a need for a creative day, she called and said she was spending a few nights away. It should bother me, it doesn’t. She knows and I know I’ll find a distraction.

  The question is: who do I want to distract me?

  There’s only one answer, the one I’ve been avoiding for hours. Phelps. I should have never gone out to that alley. I upset Toby—upset our relationship and opened up a can of worms that should have stayed sealed.

  I’m addicted to Phelps. I need some kind of twelve-step recovery program for bad relationships. The problem is, I know I need to avoid Phelps and as long as I stay away from him I can keep focused.

  But once I’ve had a taste of him…

  God.

  He wants a relationship. A real relationship. Tuxedos and rings and commitment relationship. I can’t do that.

  Number one, I can’t ruin my relationship with Toby.

  Number two, I’m a player. I like having whoever I want when I want. Toby gets that, Bianca gets that, there’s even a few guys roaming around town who I can call on a second’s notice who get me.

  Phelps isn’t one of them.

  Sure, he’ll play nice for a few days, maybe even a few weeks, but then he’ll get more and more demanding of my time and energy. The green-eyed demon of jealousy will come out, and then it’s all over. It will get really ugly from there.

  I’ve been down this road too many times to even consider doing it again.

  Really.

  Pulling my cellphone from my pocket, I am determined to erase his number.

  Swallowing hard, my thumb hovers over DELETE and in a last second swerve hits the call button instead. “I am such an idiot.”

  I could hang up. It rings four times before there’s an answer and even then it isn’t him, it’s his voice mail. I don’t have to leave a message, but I do.

  His voice says, “Leave a message at the tone.”

  Beep.

  “It’s Adrian. Call me.”

  I hang up. Fast. That was so lame. I call him back and rehearse what I’m going to say as I wait for his voice mail to pick up, except he answers and I am left stumbling over “Hello” and it comes out “Hell-hey-dude.”

  “Adrian.”

  I can hear the smile in his voice.

  Oh God. Am I really doing this?

  “You want to come over? Or we could go out. Whatever you want. I just really need to see you.”

  He laughs, and it is the happiest sound in the world.

  “I really should play hard to get—”

  My heart stops beating for a second as I wait for him to finish the sentence.

  “—but I’d be a liar if I said I was anything but thrilled you called.”

  I close my eyes. I’m really doing this. “Let’s go someplace. There’s a wine festival happening in the valley—if you want to get out of town for a couple days.”

  “How about I come to the bar and we talk about that?”

  Who am I to argue? An hour later he stands in my office, looking good enough to eat. I wiggle my finger for him to come closer. “I’ve missed you, Phelps. I thought I told you I expected to see you here more often. What happened, lover-boy?”

  He smiles, and it is a wicked smile. He admits, “I tried to stay away, but I just couldn’t.”

  “Why, Phelps? Why would you try to stay away from me?”

  “Jealousy…and…that boy-chick of yours creeps me out. She doesn’t like me so much.”

  “Toby?”

  He nods, and I realize he’s trembling.

  “Don’t worry about Toby, you worry about pleasing me. You understand? That’s your job from now on, you do what I say when I say it. Got it?”

  He nods.

  “I can’t hear you, Phelps.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  I grab him by the nape of the neck and shove him over my desk face down, kicking my door shut. I jerk his pants by the belt. They’re loose enough that everything comes down, no unzipping, no unbuttoning, no unbuckling, just fine white ass, right there staring at me. I pinch his hip, making him yelp, and then I smack him with the flat of my hand on his ass, hard enough to leave a bright red impression. “Whose ass is this?”

  “Your ass, Sir.”

  “That’s right, it’s my ass and every night my ass is going to be at this bar, isn’t it, Phelps?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “No, here and in my bed, it’s ‘Adrian’. Out there, at play parties, and anywhere else you want it formal, you call me Sir, but if it’s just me and you—” I grab his face, kissing him hard.

  Chapter 31

  Bianca

  Life has begun to take on a routine, different from when Jameson lived at the house but routine nonetheless. I like routine, it keeps me balanced. Part of my new routine is Bishop’s late night phone calls…late night for him at any rate. He calls about one AM, which makes it nine AM for me. It’s my Wednesday morning, but for him Wednesday has become Thursday. Looking at my bedside table, the phone rings right on time.

  I smile, answering, “Hi, sexy.”

  “Good morning. What’s on your agenda today?”

  “I penciled in talking to you for this morning, not much beyond that.” I certainly won’t tell him I plan to surprise Adrian and kidnap him for a long lunch.

  “M-mm, I like talking to you. You should probably put me on your schedule for every morning, but not pencil, permanent marker.”

  I smile, laughing softly.

  He asks, “And after you talk to me?”

  “No plans,” I lie. “My highlight may be lying in the sun. Catch the last good rays of summer.”

  “Such a tough life you lead. And which man are you sharing your evening with?”

  Did he really just ask me that? “Tell me that you are in town and just have to see me naked.”

  He chuckles. “Avoidance at its finest…and sorry, no such luck, darling. I’m unexpectedly in Tokyo for a few days. I still have to go to Sydney when I leave here.”

  Une
xpectedly? I want to ask him if anything is wrong. He’d tell me, wouldn’t he? No. Why would he? I sigh, biting off a million questions, settling for saying, “I miss you,” because that seems safe.

  “I miss you too. Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.”

  When I hang up, I am pouting. I want him to call me and demand I meet him at the Renaissance…or fly to London. So far, the best command he’s given me has been to touch myself, masturbate to orgasm while he listened. For a man I feared was going to try to dominate me, he hasn’t been very dominating yet. I remind myself it has only been a week and it’s certainly for the best he didn’t want me to fly to London tonight.

  I doubt Adrian would understand that after the stink I made Friday night about keeping to our date nights. I wouldn’t dare cancel on him, and I didn’t say it to Bishop but a big chunk of my day will be taken up getting ready for tonight. I plan to blow Adrian’s mind.

  I jump when the phone rings in my hand. Bishop.

  My heart leaps in my chest as I think maybe he is in town, maybe he was lying before to make the surprise nicer. He responds to my excited greeting with a demand, “Who are you spending your night with tonight?”

  I swallow, not liking the tone of his voice. I try to keep it light, asking, “Why does it matter?” He’s never cared before. Never asked…

  “I’m having sex with Hiroko tonight. You and I are in a relationship. I’d like to know if it is Adrian or Jameson, unless you are refusing to tell me because it is someone else…”

  I gasp. “You’re mad because you think I’m keeping another lover from you?”

  His silence is answer enough.

  Sarcastically I demand, “Do you think I’m going to pick up a random stranger in a movie ticket line?”

  “I’m not angry, and I don’t think either. I just want your honesty.”

  “Good, because it isn’t any business of yours if I do add another lover.” I regret the words as soon as they are out of my mouth. Why am I ruining this? Why am I not just telling him the truth? The small voice in my head whispers Toby.