by Cecilia Tan
My sister didn’t answer my question. Instead she said, “You know Vincent thinks the reason you’re such a moral degenerate is because you were already too old and rebellious before we moved in with Dad. That if you’d only learned to do as you were told, you’d be happy now.”
“I am happy, Flor. Very happy. Is Vincent happy?”
“He’s fresh out of college, already engaged, and has a full-time job, so, yes.”
“So, soon to have wife, two-point-five kids, and a two-car garage, and go to that fucking church on Sundays.” I was not a fan of our stepfather’s newfangled church. I hadn’t liked it as a kid—when we’d gone from being Christmas and Easter Catholics to his brand of joyless midwestern Christian—and I didn’t like it now. Religion is one thing; brainwashing is another. “Okay, fine. If that’s Vincent’s definition of happy I won’t shit on it. But it’s not mine, Flor.” I waited a moment for her to respond, and when she didn’t, I added, “And I don’t think it’s yours, either.”
“You don’t know what life is like for me,” she said.
“No, I don’t. But if you’re waiting around in a nothing town for big daddy to arrange you a marriage—”
“You really mean I could come, too?” she blurted suddenly.
“With Mom? Yes, I really mean it.”
“B-but what if she doesn’t want to go?”
God. My baby sister. I could hear the quaver in her voice. “Do you want to come to LA, Flor?”
Silence again, and then very quietly she said, “I want to…go back to school. But it’s expensive and I’m saving up the money very slowly.”
“How much money do you n—?”
“I have to go,” she said quickly, and then hung up.
I stared at the phone in my hand. My family lived in an alternate universe where rock and roll was the devil, sex was only for procreation, and women were supposed to be literally subordinate to men. This was the first hint I’d had that maybe Flora really wanted to break free. I realized my hands were sweating and it wasn’t because I was in the sun.
I stuck the phone back in my pocket and saw Ford was sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet in the water. His blond hair was bright in the sun and he was squinting at me. Up until now I’d kept the guys in the band in the dark about my family. I didn’t know what to say.
Ford did. “Family shit is complicated shit,” he said with a knowing nod.
“Yeah.”
He climbed to his feet. “So what happened last night that you had to wait until you got here to tell me?”
“Oh. Yeah. I…hooked up with Madison.”
“The redhead? The one whose eyes always follow you around all the time?”
That was news to me, but welcome news. “Uh, yeah. That would be the one.”
“’Bout time,” he deadpanned.
We went into the studio then. He took that riff he’d been working on, married it with something I’d said on the phone, and I beat on the drums like a wild man while he improvised lyrics on top of it. The result was a song called “Nothing Town” so at least something good came of it.
Chapter Five
MADISON
I spent a restless night, dreaming about Chino while I was asleep and fantasizing about him when I was awake. It was like being haunted by a very, very sexy ghost. I woke up exhausted and horny. Fuck. A major crush is the last thing I need distracting me right now. But regardless of what my mind thought, my body and heart and soul were already set on him, apparently. I kept imagining the dark depths of his eyes, the silky honey of his voice making wicked “suggestions,” the firmness of his fingers on my hip, or around my waist, or on my shoulder…
I groaned. I had a strong feeling that even spending the morning in bed with my vibrator wasn’t going to sate me.
Stop it, Madison. You know better than to crave a hot bad boy. You know how this story ends and it’s never pretty.
I reached for my phone to check the weather and glance at e-mail. There was a message from Gwen, checking in on me. Since when did Gwen check in on me? I was the one who was supposed to check in on her. I took a sip of water from the glass I kept on my nightstand and Morris leaped up on the bed to get petted now that I was awake. He snuggled under my arm while I called Gwen back.
“Hey.” She sounded out of breath. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“On the exercise bike. Don’t mind me. Quick, say something to distract me from the burn in my thighs. Speaking of burning thighs, how’s Chino?”
“He’s fine, I’m fine.” I waved my hand in the air and Morris made a noise of protest. “I wasn’t expecting the class clown to suddenly get all intense on my ass, but it was okay.”
“Just okay? When you came out of the room I thought you guys were getting along better than okay.”
“Then why the check-in, Gwen? I can take care of myself.”
Gwen clucked her tongue. “Maddie. I’m an expert on big sisters who think they never need help. I know you can take care of yourself. But you always call me after I have an intense time in the dungeon and I figured it was time I returned the favor.”
I rubbed my butt against the bed. Still sore. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I really do appreciate it. But I don’t know, Gwen.”
“Don’t know about what?”
“About me and Chino.” I liked the sex. I liked him. But I was avoiding the gut-dropping place the scene had taken me like an acrophobic avoiding cliffs. Plus every previous experience with bad boys, rock stars, or musicians really hadn’t worked for me. What made this one different?
“Well, if you’re trying to figure out if employees and club members are a no-no, you know that’s how my parents met, right?”
“What?”
“My mom was a hostess. It was relatively a secret I guess, but Dad told Ricki last year. So there you go. He’s cute and it’s obvious he likes you.”
“Chino’s a red-blooded male who likes anything with two legs and two breasts.” Even as I said it, though, I realized I’d never actually seen him hit on any of the other women at the parties, not even the other hostess. I’d been assuming that he was like other guys I’d known, that the flirtatious jokes he’d flung my way were how he treated everyone, but it was starting to sink in that maybe that wasn’t the case.
“That’s what Ricki thought about Axel, too, but he’s turned into a real one-woman guy. I think Chino’s just been waiting for the right time to make a move on you.”
Maybe I argued because I was hoping to be convinced otherwise. “He’s an opportunist. Come on, Gwen. Until yesterday I couldn’t even tell if he was a dom or a sub.”
“Or a switch, like you, you mean?”
She had a point. “I guess.”
“I think the reason Chino never seemed like a dom or a sub is because you go back and forth yourself, Maddie. I think he’s been waiting to find out how you two could fit together. So which is it? When the two of you were alone, ugh”—she grunted—“sorry, just started a hill interval—did he come out on top?”
“He did,” I said, thinking about his hand at the small of my back…and the intense need for his forgiveness that had sprung up in me during the scene.
“Oooh. And how much of a dom is he, really?”
“He’s totally and completely a dom when he’s with me. But don’t get the wrong idea.”
“Wrong idea? Why so defensive?”
“I’m not being defensive.” I cringed as I said it. The only people who ever claim they’re not defensive are people being defensive, and I knew it. “I guess I’m defensive because I don’t know if I’m ready to jump into a relationship with Chino Garcia.” Especially one where I’m the sub.
She was silent—well, except for the huffing as she pedaled her way up the virtual hill.
“Do you know him, Gwen? Do you really know him?”
“Not much better than you do, but I’m not getting any red flags about him, if that’s what you mean. I kno
w you’ve got trust issues with guys, but—”
“I do not have trust issues with guys!”
“If you say so,” she said warily.
“I’m just not ready for something heavy, that’s all,” I went on. “That’s just not my scene right now. Sure he’s hot. Sure he’s got a great body. Sure he’s probably amazing in bed. That’s like…‘that mountain over there is beautiful.’ Doesn’t mean I have to climb it.”
“I’m under the impression this mountain will come to you, though,” Gwen said.
I didn’t say anything. I wanted to climb the mountain. I was aching to. But I was about to turn thirty; this was supposed to be the year I got my act together like a real adult, wasn’t it? The last thing I needed was to fall back into my bad-boy habit.
But the memory of the way he’d kissed me on the house-hunting trip sent a pussy-melting wave of heat down my spine. Even more than getting off in his front seat, that was the moment that my brain kept coming back to. How’d he trap my hand like that? How did he hold me so securely, and taste my mouth so surely? Nnnf. I wanted to taste that again.
“Tell me I can have some fun with him without it ending in tears,” I said suddenly.
“Oh, Maddie, of course you can. The guys in the band are really good guys. He’s not pushing you to make some kind of a commitment, is he?”
“No. I’m just…you know how guys can get.” What the hell are you talking about, Madison? This had nothing to do with fear of commitment on either of our parts. It had everything to do with me avoiding what that scene had dredged up. I wanted the sex, I wanted the play, but I skirted away from whatever was going on with that forgiveness bullshit. It was bullshit, right? I didn’t need some guy’s approval to be happy with myself or my choices, and it was freaking me out how good it had felt.
That little taste was like having a “little” hit of cocaine. Some people only had to try it once to be hooked for life; wasn’t that what they said? I was not going to let myself be reduced to a crawling, pathetic mess who needed her man’s constant assurances to function. Just no. But I couldn’t say that to Gwen without it possibly coming off as a criticism of her own relationship, even though I knew it wasn’t like that for her and Mal. Their mutually worshipful master/slave thing really worked for them. What was going on in my head was…something else. I didn’t even want to think about it for fear I might start wanting it even more.
I settled on a safe bet about why I was holding back. “I guess I’m still gun-shy after the past couple of disasters, that’s all.”
“It was hardly your fault that one of them was married and didn’t tell you, one was on the lam, and one couldn’t keep up a conversation outside the bedroom.”
And that was only the ones I’d bothered to tell Gwen about. “I don’t know. After a while I start wondering if the common denominator is me.” Me and my thing for bad boys. “Why do I keep finding these guys who are great at sex and terrible at life?”
“Maybe concentrate on the sex, then, if it’s good? I’ve been kind of worried that with you sex always turns into a job.”
“I like working. Working keeps me focused.”
“Uh huh. But if you’re leery of getting in too deep, Chino seems like the fun type.”
“True.” And he had kind of backed off, if you considered making me finger-bang myself in his car backing off. He hadn’t pushed to dig deeper emotionally, anyway.
And I wanted him too much to push him away entirely. “I’ll be fine, Gwen. Look, speaking of work, I asked him to help me out with some of my sex toy reviews and he said he would. So, see? I’ll multitask. I’ll do some work and have fun with Chino at the same time.”
“Aha! Let me know how it goes.”
* * *
CHINO
I arrived at Madison’s freshly showered after a workout at the gym. The place I went was not one of these yuppie hamster farms with a window full of gleaming treadmills, but a boxing gym in a run-down neighborhood not far from where I was renting, a place with peeling paint and a practice ring in the back. No one made stock trades from their phone while on the exercise bike at this place. I had a good lock for my locker and thus far no one had bothered my car or me. None of the guys there gave me much of a second glance, either.
My hair was still wet as I went up the stairs to Madison’s second-floor entrance.
She opened the door, revealing to me the delicious sight of her in a white tank top and pink shorts. Her feet were bare and she smiled as she stepped back to let me in.
“Thanks for coming,” she said. “This is all kind of new.”
She could’ve been talking about our mutual attraction, but then she went on about her new gig, leading me to her couch without even letting me say hello. The ceiling was vaulted with a few overhead fans turning gently, circulating the AC. “They sent me all these portable cameras. I’m still figuring out what they want. All I really know is they—”
I kissed her. I caught her around the waist and swung her toward me and kissed her. “Well, hello,” I said. “May I come in?”
“Hi, Chino,” she said, blushing prettily. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“It’s okay, sweets,” I told her. The kiss had revved my already humming engine, and all I really wanted to do was tell her forget the video, it’s time to fuck. But I was enjoying riding the high that came from wanting her. It was like every time I didn’t give in to the urge to just get right down to the “good ol’ in-out” I got another hit of the drug. Besides, I really had promised to help her with the video. “I’m taking it as a sign that this gig is really important to you. You nervous?”
“I guess?”
“I know it’s not because of the sex,” I said, thumb on my chin. Let’s see if I could lighten her up. “Compared to dungeon hostess or, what was it you said? Something about a lucha libre mask?”
She laughed softly. “Yeah. My attempt at ‘exotic dancing.’ And there was burlesque and selling sex toys. And abuse counselor. You’re right. Nothing should faze me. But it’d be easier if they’d told me more about what they want. Less guessing.”
“Maybe they want you to discover what works for yourself.” I took a seat on her couch and pulled her down beside me. She smelled delicious and I couldn’t help but assess whether the couch would be a good one for sex. Yes. It had a nice wide back—good for bending her over—and firm cushions. “What toy are you doing today?”
She got up from the couch and crossed to the computer desk in the corner of the room to retrieve a box. I watched her the whole way, her well-sculpted dancer’s legs crowned by curvaceous hips. So fine.
“I’ve got a bunch of things to choose from.” She upended the box onto the couch between us and several smaller packages and boxes tumbled out. I started picking through them. “This dildo looks like a giant gummy worm,” I said, holding up a bright green translucent thing in a clear plastic box.
“It’s supposed to feel amazing, though,” she said. “According to the hype.”
I pulled out another package, which from the picture appeared to contain a matched set of a blindfold and thong panties.
“Definitely not that,” she said.
“Yeah, a bit boring,” I said. “Although it could be kind of funny. ‘Hello, everyone. I’m trying out this blindfold and I can say very definitely it is dark under here.’”
She laughed a little at that and threw the package back into the box. “How about this?” She broke the seal on another package and held up something curved and sleek hanging between two loops of black elastic. “It’s a vibe controlled by an app. You’ll have to download it.”
I was already pulling out my phone from my leather jacket’s inner pocket. I slid the jacket off and while I fussed with that Madison went over to her computer and fired up her video software.
“Hello and welcome to Madison’s Mad World of Toys,” I heard her say. “Where I’ll be introducing you to new and exciting toys that are definitely for adults only. I’ll be t
rying out each toy personally, sometimes with the help of a friend. Today we’re exploring the V-Curve, a special vibe that a woman can wear under her clothes and which is controlled by a smartphone app.”
I moved quietly to stand beside her desk, showing her my phone and giving her a thumbs-up. She held the toy in front of the camera on top of her monitor. “Apparently these adjustable elastic straps are supposed to hold it in place.”
“They’re like the ones you’re supposed to adjust on airplane oxygen masks,” I said.
“That,” she said, with her eyebrow raised, “is my aforementioned friend.”
“Adjust your own vibrator before helping others,” I said, in my best imitation of a flight attendant voice, making her crack up a little.
She clicked pause on the recording. “You want to introduce yourself or stay anonymous?”
“Well, as our manager would say, helping out a friend with her sex toys is definitely ‘on brand’ for The Rough. But why don’t you just say ‘my friend Chino’ and we can let people figure it out.”
“Okay.” She clicked the mouse again. “My friend Chino is going to use the app to control the vibrator. First, though, let me see if this thing fits.”
She kept right on recording as she dropped her shorts. The camera couldn’t see that—it could only see what was above the desk—but she bent over and put her feet through the loops, then wiggled it all upward. “Chino, would you get me a little dollop of lube?” She pointed back toward the pile of things we’d left on the couch. “Part of it’s designed to go inside me.”
“Glad to be of help.” I tipped her head back and gave her a devouring sort of kiss, my hand slipping under the toy, teasing her, spreading her with two fingers and flicking her clit with a third. As I felt her swell, the same thing was happening in my own pants, as if we were connected. When she moaned into my mouth I slipped that finger into the sweet spot and let her go. “There. Plenty of lube.”
She looked up at me, her cheeks flushed, her mouth slightly open like she wanted to say something but hadn’t quite got the words for it yet. “Thanks,” she finally said, and then resumed fitting the toy into place. You’re welcome, sweets. You’re more than welcome.