Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

by Opal Carew

  I shook my head. “I should get going. Check in on my friends.”

  The smile on his face faded. “You don’t want to stay the night tonight?”

  I did. Totally. But I had to get back to my besties. Scanning the room in hopes of finding my cell phone, my eyes froze at something on his nightstand….

  A pile of rope.

  Eh? My brain jogged a few ideas as to why anyone would have a rope next to their bed. Hang-gliding? Bungee jumping, perhaps? Maybe exercise? I pointed and asked, “Why do you have that?”

  Silent. A mischievous grin graced his face as he leaned forward. His lips closed in on mine. “None of your business.”

  “It is too my—”

  Shutting me up, he kissed me.

  Hard. Fast. Deep. His tongue slid into my mouth, working his way through me, rocking my world. Oh. Fuck. My dick got hard, harder.

  The mere touch of him, and now the kiss, was enough to send me to Mars. In his arms, I felt a homecoming. One I didn’t realize I was actually looking for, till I’d found it. A place where everyone was like me. A place where everything just felt so damn good. And then I realized that up till that point, I’d wasted my entire life not having anything as wonderful as kissing Diego Oalo.

  When our lips parted, I curled my toes and muttered from a wide smile, “You’re pretty good at that.”

  “Have you kissed many boys?”

  Let’s see. There was Thor when we were like twelve years old. Then Sanderloo when we were in the tenth grade. And then Diego. On that, I shook my head and replied, “You’re number…three.”

  “Have you had sex before?”

  “With a guy?” I asked.

  “Uh, yeah. Unless you’ve had sex with a girl?”

  “I did. Only once. It was with Vive in tenth grade.”

  “Mierda…” He appeared stunned for a few seconds.

  Feeling the need to elaborate, I added, “I knew I was gay much earlier than that, but I really fell for Vive. She’s beautiful, special. I wanted to try being with a girl. Just once. And Vive had asked me, so I did.”

  “What was sex with a woman like?” he asked.

  “Soft, sensual, sweet.”

  “You hated it, didn’t you?” His black eyes narrowed.

  “Totally.” I laughed.

  “What about sex with a man?”

  “Define sex. Do you mean anal?”

  Gays typically say sex when it could merely be a blow job. I had to be certain of his question before offering up the facts.

  “Sí, penetration,” he replied.

  “Uh-uh,” I admitted. “But I have watched a ton of gay porn.” I knew what to do. I just hadn’t done it yet.

  Clearly my reply got his attention.

  Brown eyes widening into saucers, he sat straight up in bed and clarified, “You haven’t topped or bottomed a dude yet?”

  “Nooo. But I want to. I want to top you,” I confessed, thinking it would be fun for someone like me who is not as masculine to assume the alpha position and top a guy like Diego. There was an allure with role reversal.

  He kissed me again and muttered into the well of my mouth, “I want to feel you…inside of me. I want you…inside me. Tonight.”

  Holy fuck. He stirred nerves inside me which had been cold and dormant up till then.

  After the heady sensation from the kiss and his words subsided, my attention went back to the rope. For several reasons, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

  One: It wasn’t the kind you get at the hardware store which was tensile strength and pure manila. Two: The rope was shockingly bright blue and had a sexiness to it. This was no jump rope, people. Three: It was right next to his frickin’ bed. Reaching over, I grabbed it. Four: The texture was soft and supple in my hands.

  “Do you use this for rock-climbing?” I asked, noticing there weren’t the usual hooks or closures one would often see on those types of harnesses and suspension cables.

  “Not exactly...” He grabbed it from my hands, jumped to his feet, and tossed it into the nearby closet. Turning the TV on, he said, “Forget you ever saw it. Let’s watch a movie.”

  “Diego Oalo!” I gaped at him. He was good at trying to change the subject, but I was better at staying on task. With my besties being as cray-cray as they were, I must. Hello!

  “Blake Morgan,” he mocked me, crossing his arms in defiance.

  I knew what it was. I’d heard the rumors that Diego was oversexed and naughty as hell. “Admit it…you’re kinky.”

  He came back over to the bed, pressing his body down over mine and replied, “Sí, very.” He traced his tongue over my lower lip. Everything about the man excited me.

  As I made myself comfortable in his arms, I heard the reporter on the TV mention, “Patrons got more than their admission into the posh Glamorama nightclub last night. Medical staff from Manhattan General Hospital report they were roofied.”

  Saaay what?

  Frozen in each other’s arms, my spine shot straight toward the popcorn ceiling. Our eyes were glued to the screen.

  Images of Glamorama flashed as my jaw dropped.

  The headline read, “Entire Nightclub Drugged,” as the reporter stated, “victims are being treated at Manhattan General.”

  Victims? Oh. My. God.

  Panic started to fill my empty stomach. Then the reality of my besties hit me like a Mac truck as I recalled Miguel saying everyone had been taken to the hospital. “Fuck. How could I not remember?” I got to my feet, searching for my pants, and asked, “Where’s my cell?”

  He handed me my clothes, shoes, and then unplugged my phone from the wall. “I charged it for you. It was dead.”

  “Thank you.” Stepping out of his sweats and into my jeans, I got dressed as fast as I could.

  He came up to me with my scarf, the one Taddy had given me the year before for Christmas, and wrapped it around my neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you earlier.” He tied the front of it tightly under my neck, pressing into my Adam’s apple.

  “I gotta go…” I replied, loosening the fabric, evaluating how he’d tied my scarf around my neck with such precision. Unsure why, but my mind went back to that rope.

  “I’ll come with you.” He grabbed his jacket, gloves, and went for the door.

  We hailed a cab on Broadway and headed across town to the Upper East Side.

  Manhattan General was the city’s largest, oldest, and most prestigious hospital. It took up almost an entire city block. They had several satellite clinics spread all over town. Lex and Taddy had been born there, and Birdie had been taken here a few months ago when her penthouse had exploded. When we stepped out of the yellow car, I headed straight for the emergency room.

  The second I walked into the lobby, my nose caught the lingering odor of aesthetic gases and baby powder. I made my way to the large front desk.

  A woman with wide hips and big hair threw a phone over her shoulder, as if putting the caller on hold, and greeted me.

  I gave her my name and told her I’d been at the club. Her face lit up as I said, “My friends got sick and were taken here.”

  “Yes, honey, we’ve got a bunch of you here for observation. You feeling ill?” She didn’t wait for me to reply as she handed me a clipboard. “Here fill this out.”

  “No. I’m fine. I’m here to see my friends. They were admitted. I think…”

  “Name?” Her voice sounded tired.

  “Taddy Brill and Vive Farnworth.”

  Her eyes narrowed on the paper she was referring to. “We released Farnworth about an hour ago. Taddy is in ICU.”

  “What?” Icy fear twisted around my tongue. Holding my raw emotion in check, I asked, “Why? How?”

  “Are you family?” She quirked her painted brows questioningly.

  “Yes,” I spurted out a lie. “I’m her brother.”

  Taddy doesn’t have any family. Just Lex, Vive and me.

  A tense silence between us increased with frightening uncertainty that the nurs
e might not believe me and I wouldn’t get to see my BFF.

  “Take a seat in the waiting room. I’ll see if I can get a doctor to come out and tell you what’s going on” She turned, leaving her station before saying over her shoulder, “Honey, it may take a while.”

  Turning to face Diego, I put my head on his shoulder. “I’ll die if anything happens to her.”

  He squeezed me tight in his arms. Having him with me took some of the craziness down a notch.

  “Go sit in the waiting room. I’m going to get you a sandwich and some soda.”

  “Not now. I can’t eat.”

  “Blake. You must.”

  Nodding, I thanked him and watched him leave out the hospital doors before I turned into the waiting room.

  Then I saw them…

  Lex sobbing. Birdie, her mother, sat next to her. Curled into a ball on the floor, Vive was at Lex’s feet wearing her usual oversized acrylic Chanel sunglasses. Hedda was at her side.

  Shit. This is bad.

  I walked over to them. Birdie recognized me first. She stood and extended her heavily jeweled arms. Embracing her, feeling her expensive clothes press into me, I asked, “Is Taddy okay?”

  “Oh, Blake, my boy. The girls have been trying to reach you all day.”

  “My phone died. I stayed with a friend.”

  “Are you sick, too?” Birdie’s face etched in concern.

  “I was. I’m better now.” Hoping to calm her nerves, I gave her a smile. “How’s Lex and Vive?”

  “Lex is fine.” She pointed to her in the chair.

  Dark circles decorated her narrowing eyes. Appearing totally in her own world, she chewed on a red Twizzler.

  Birdie continued, “She didn’t get roofied. Vive, on the other hand, was extremely dehydrated. After IV treatments, they released her a few hours ago. Her parents are in Sweden but they’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Why is Taddy in ICU?”

  “I think you better sit down,” Birdie moved her black sable fur coat as I scooted into a seat next to Lex.

  “Blake!” Relief washed over Lex’s green eyes as she glared up at me, reaching for my hand.

  All that makeup she’d had on the night before appeared under these florescent hospital lights as a watercolor painting all over her pretty face.

  “What’s going on, Lex? Tell me.”

  Vive sat up from the floor and rested her chin on my knee. I stroked her bleach-blonde hair. She was a mask of stone. Her sunglasses remained on. I couldn’t see her eyes, but the tears, the sadness, they streaked her cheeks as if the white waves of a speedboat had just jetted by. Even Hedda who lay somberly next to her had an expression of mute wretchedness.

  “Taddy miscarried,” Lex said in a choked voice, pushing the bag of candy into her purse.

  “A baby?” I cried out.

  “The doctors did everything they could to prevent her from going into labor, but she delivered the fetus a few hours ago. She hemorrhaged and has lost a ton of blood. They’re giving her a transfusion.”

  A primitive grief, one I’d never experienced, overwhelmed me. For the first time in my life, I felt despair and didn’t know what to do next but cry along with them.

  Part Two

  Shit Storm

  “Blake Morgan III was the first gay person I ever met. We were kids. He was tall and handsome. I would do anything for that man. Why, you ask? Because there aren’t many people like Blake out there in this world. He’s kind and loving, sweet and funny, and would do anything for anyone he cared about. I love that about him. We all do.” –Taddy Brill, vivacious redhead, supermodel, and dethroned descendant of the Austrian House of Brillford royalty.

  Chapter Four

  Paging Dr. Phil

  The shock of the situation had caused a ringing sound in my ear. As if the university’s campus siren had sounded off, alerting the students to run as fast as they could for cover because the world was coming to an end.

  In a way, my world just had.

  Dazed and unable to comprehend the nightmare I was living in, I faced my besties in the waiting room at Manhattan General Hospital after learning my BFF wasn’t doing so well and asked, “Taddy was—pregnant?”

  “No one knew. Not even her.” Lex closed her eyes, looking utterly miserable, and confessed, “She was about four months along.”

  “Fuck.” I bit my lip until it throbbed like the ringing in my ear.

  “Do you have Leon’s number?” Vive asked in a low, tormented tone.

  I felt my mouth open in dismay.

  Leon Lartique was a year older than Taddy. They’d met in Miami at a photo shoot for Claire Le Femme magazine. He worked on the set as the lighting designer. A tall, muscular Frenchman. He’d been her summer fling.

  More importantly, Leon was the only guy Taddy had ever been with. He lived in Paris with his…boyfriend. He’s a bisexual.

  “I do. Yes. Why?”

  Vive thrust her fingers through her blonde hair and declared, “Cause Taddy wants you to be the one to call and tell him to get his butt over here.”

  “Me?” I stiffened at the question.

  Birdie nodded gloomily.

  “Is Taddy going to be okay?”

  “The miscarriage was pretty severe.” Vive clamped her jaw tight and removed her sunglasses. Her stone-colored eyes were glassy. “The doctors said it might ruin her future chances of carrying a baby to term.”

  In confusion, I lowered my gaze to Lex. “I don’t understand how this happened…”

  “The white wine spritzers ya’ll drank last night were laced with something the detectives are calling GHB. A ketamine/Rohypnol combo. That caused Taddy’s heartrate to skyrocket. So did the fetus'. The doctors aren’t sure, but they think it went into cardiac arrest inside the womb and died.”

  “Fuck, Lex. The baby is not an it. We’re talking about Taddy’s unborn child here. And he or she died today.” Jerking to her feet, swooping Hedda up in her arms, Vive marched off toward the direction of the restrooms. The stilettos she’d worn the night before made a loud clacking noise.

  “Viveca!” I called out after her. She’d given her baby away when we were in the tenth grade. I imagined this miscarriage of life was almost as hard for her as it was for Taddy. In one way or another, they’d both experienced the loss of a child.

  “Let her be. She’s tired.” Birdie’s fingers fluttered around her diamond statement necklace. I could tell she struggled to keep it together, too. Taddy had been almost like a daughter to her. She’d helped raised her when the Brillfords had abandoned their parental duties.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Lex started to sob.

  “Taddy’s gonna pull through,” I comforted them.

  “This is horrible. Just horrible,” Birdie added between cries.

  We sat and waited for our BFF to be released. Lex told me that Officer Ford Gotti—the inked superhero who’d popped her cherry—had dumped her the second he found out she had gone to Glamorama.

  As if I couldn’t feel even more horrible. I did. I swore off bars and booze right then and there. No more drama for me. Just school and my studies going forward.

  I watched the nurses change shifts, cleaning ladies mop the same floor over and over again, and I reflected and thought about the past twenty-four hours.

  * * *

  Diego came back with pastrami sandwiches. Hoping it would give me enough strength and courage to call Leon, I tried to take a few bites. The Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, kosher pickles and Russian dressing on crusty rye bread had never tasted so good. I’d been starving.

  While Birdie watched TV, trash-talking the male lead on the screen (apparently she’d done a movie with him at one time), Lex and Vive started to doze off. I took out my cell, grabbed Diego’s hand and headed outside for some fresh air.

  In silence, we walked a few blocks over to the East River. It was cold for that time of year, but not freezing. I had my scarf, Diego gave me his hat to wear and I had on gloves. The temperature
was maybe in the mid-forties. It felt good, the winter air. I needed to breathe and clear my mind.

  I stared ahead, facing the colossal neon-lit Pop Art Pepsi Cola sign, thinking what an eyesore it must have been when it went up back in its day. We studied Pepsi that semester in my Intro Consumer Marketing class. I’d learned how in time residents grew to embrace the glowing sign as a symbol of New York’s industrial past. I guess if you give people enough time, they can adjust to anything. Right?

  How would Leon take the news about Taddy? I had no idea where his mind was with his international love affair which had been going on for the last few months.

  “Diego…I don’t want to make this call.” A flicker of apprehension ran through me as I studied his face, praying he’d give me a way out.

  “You’re doing it for Taddy, remember?”

  “Right. I know.” I tried to put myself in my BFF’s shoes. “I just don’t know what to say.”

  “The truth.”

  My eyes met the phone’s screen. I was mad at myself for even having his number. Taddy had gone to Paris a few times to see him that semester and had given it to me just to be safe. He’d paid for her flight and told her he was in love with her. But there was just one snafu: his boyfriend, Fabian Henry. Taddy cared for him, too, and she had a good head on her shoulders about the whole open relationship thing.

  Personally, I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. But Taddy being Taddy was open-minded. I admired that about her.

  I pushed on Leon’s name to dial his number.

  “Bonjour,” Leon answered on the fourth ring.

  My voice was shakier than I would’ve liked. We small-talked for a minute or so before anxiety spurted through me. I interrupted him mid-sentence and told him what had gone down. He said many things in French that I didn’t understand, but I could tell after the shock had worn off he was left with sadness.

  “So then, you’re coming to New York?” I lingered on whether or not I cared. Taddy could get by just fine without him. She had Lex, Vive and me to care for her. What good could he possibly do for our BFF?

  “Oui... Shouldn’t I be there for Taddy?”

  “Yes. It’s just that—” A pulsating knot within me wanted to know what his intentions were with my friend. What’s done is done. It wasn’t my business, but in a way she’d given me the right to make it my business by having me place the call, so I asked, “What about your boyfriend?”