Are You There, Karma? It’s Me, Jane.: A laugh out loud romantic comedy

by Zolendz, Christine

  My shoulders fall and I just want to quit already. “Dex, I’ve been through my closet twice, I have nothing nice to wear.” Even the outfit my mother bought me after my spa day—it was too bohemian and flower-childish.

  He searches through the closet. “Jane, what the fuck? Do you just shop at the thrift store?”

  I save a ton of money and eventually I can buy a house or travel, so what, I shop at the thrift store. Most of my grocery shopping happens at the Dollar Tree.

  He combs through all of Julia’s child-sized clothing and smiles wickedly.

  “What’s that smile for? That’s a very scary smile…”

  “Come here,” he says, spinning me around. His warm fingers work down the zipper in the back of the dress and slips it off my shoulders. It pools around my feet on the floor. Goosebumps surge out across my body and a heavy pang of desire washes over me. I squeeze my eyes closed. This is Dex. This is Dex. I repeat this nineteen more times.

  He shifts around my body, facing me. “Lift your arms for me,” he whispers quietly. He’s standing close to me, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath across the swell of skin that spills out over my bra. His chest rises and falls, and I get caught in the rhythm of it for a moment before I slowly raise my hands and bring them up.

  His jaw ticks, and still I feel his breath, inhale…exhale across my breasts. Topaz eyes blink into mine; he’s being a gentleman—not looking anywhere else.

  It feels like a lifetime passes while we stand there.

  Then Dex reaches up and gently drops silky material over my hands and arms and head. It falls a little higher than mid-thigh and the material is so soft and cool I almost feel naked.

  Dex walks me to the mirror, his warm hands cupping my shoulders. “Look at you,” he murmurs.

  I’m wearing one of Julia’s shirts. On her is a billowy flowing blouse with a low neckline that travels through the valley between her breasts. On me is a sleek curvy short dress with a plunging neckline that shows my ample cleavage. My eyelashes flutter in shock. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

  Behind me, in the reflection of the mirror, Dex reaches up and pulls out my messy bun. My hair, wildly untamed, cascades past my shoulders and tumbles down to my waist. “I didn’t know your hair was this long,” he says, smiling at my reflection. “I’ve never seen your hair down.”

  My eyes drift over the outfit, over my unruly hair, and focus on Dex. He touches a strand and tucks a small bit of it behind my ear. It’s the lightest of touches, but it makes my cheeks heat, my heart to thump low and quiet but so very hard against my rib cage.

  “It’s still damp. Come and sit down.” He leads me to my small vanity again and turns on the hair dryer. He runs his fingers through the strands, drying them to a perfect shine.

  Sweet mother of all that it holy, Dex Vanstone is doing my fucking hair.

  When he’s done, my hair is a massive display of curls and waves that somehow accentuate my shoulders and waist and legs. He hands me my pair of small stud earrings and my Brian Atwood Alexa suede boots that I received as a gift for my collection of articles based on the Milan-based brand.

  Dex lowers himself until he’s on his knees in front of me. My eyes widen as I feel him reach for my ankle and lightly grasp it. I clear my throat to say something—anything, but words don’t come out. His thumb trails a small circle over my skin, creating a fire that rips right through me. Every muscle in my body tenses, and it feels like my chest splits wide open and my insides are melting right out. “Dex?” I whisper.

  My heart pounds in my chest faster, as his hand pulls up my foot from the floor and gently slips it into my shoe.

  I swallow back a sigh and hold onto his shoulder to keep myself steady. Neither of us speak, and I swear the only sounds I hear are the muted car horns on the street outside and the thrashing of my own pulse through my body. He sets my booted foot down and smoothly picks up the other. It’s an extremely intimate gesture, one I think I will hold with me forever, even though I know to Dex it’s nothing more than he means it to be.

  “The sexiest thing a woman can wear is confidence, Janie.” His whispered words break through the quiet and I reach out my hand to help him up. When he straightens, he’s closer than before, his body almost flush with mine. “Do you feel confident?” he murmurs.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “Because you look fucking incredible.”

  A long finger slips beneath my chin and lifts it slightly up. Our eyes lock and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling suddenly dizzy and terrified. “Are you ready to write the fuck out of this article?”

  I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod.

  Dex steps back and claps, and rubs his hands together like nothing weird or sexually charged just happened between us.

  I stare at the back of him as he walks toward my door.

  Maybe nothing just happened; maybe I read too many romance books and watch too many rom-coms. Besides, I shake my head and laugh at how silly I am, Nate is the one I want. He’s the one that gave me the best kiss in my life.

  I follow Dex out into the living room, and Julia’s expression is priceless. “Is that my shirt?”

  I spin around like a runway model and strut back and forth in front of them. Dex laughs at me and rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. They get it. Jane Nash can look mighty badass when she wants to.”

  “You look amazing!” Julia squeals. “We should have a celebratory drink!”

  “I have wine in the kitchen, I’ll go get it! Who wants a glass?” I ask. Everyone raises their hands and Julia walks over to Dex and starts talking quietly to him.

  “I’ll give you a hand with the glasses,” Nate volunteers, and walks behind me into the kitchen.

  I open the cabinet and see two different bottles. “What do you think, red or white?”

  Before I could reach up for either bottle, Nate grabs my arm and whirls me around to face him, and pushes me up against the counter, caging me in with his arms. The sheer shock of him that close makes my body burst into flames.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea. It doesn’t feel right. You shouldn’t go to that place tonight.”

  “Nate? What? Why?” Tell me not to go because you’ve made a mistake. Tell me you don’t love her. Tell me—

  “You’re not that kind of a girl, Jane. Come on, you’re going to get hurt. You’re sweet and innocent and kind, you shouldn’t dress like that. It’s just asking for something bad to happen.”

  He just gave me a backhanded compliment and told me I’m asking for something bad to happen because I’m dressing in one of his girlfriend’s outfits?

  “Nate, I’m sorry to let you know but,” I point to myself and smile, “none of this has anything to do with you. I’m not yours. And honestly, Nate, your opinions of me are not my problem, they’re yours.”

  I reach up and choose the red wine, because right now it’s the only color I see.

  Chapter 21

  “Nate wanted him and Julia to come with us,” Dex murmurs, as he looks out the taxi’s window. Outside, the buildings move in a blur. I feel like we’re driving too fast, maybe we should pull over and take our time and walk there. Stop for ice cream on the way. Maybe a dirty waterdog.

  I stay quiet for a moment, watching Dex’s profile as the world beyond the window behind him rushes past. “What did you say to him?” I finally ask.

  His head turns slowly in my direction; the passing streetlights trail shadows over his features. “I told him no. This is for an article, it’s not for him, and it’s definitely not for them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The cab slows and my stomach flutters.

  “It means, you can’t explore anything honestly where we’re going if you’re there performing for him, or her.”

  The driver stops the car and Dex pays and pushes his door open. I want to ask him more, but I realize he’s given me an honest and complete answer. If either Nate or Julia came with us, everything I would do I would h
ave wondered what they thought about me doing it. I never knew Dex was actually…intelligent and thoughtful.

  Dex stands on the curb of the sidewalk as I slide across the backseat. He holds out a hand and helps me climb out. This is where I find chivalry alive and well, on the way to a sex club.

  I clear my throat quietly. “But what about you being with me?” I ask.

  He looks down the street and back toward me. “We have a truce, remember? And you wouldn’t care what I think about any of this. If there’s one person you won’t perform in front of, Jane, it’s me.”

  Maybe he’s right. Why would I care what Dex Vanstone thought of me? We’ve spent most of our professional relationship butting heads with one another. Gail seems to get a big kick out of us competing, and honestly, I think our best work comes out of it. We’re good at being opponents.

  Dex escorts me to an indistinct door where he presses a small red button and a chime echoes out from deep inside the building.

  I’m so nervous I could faint.

  A small square peephole slides open in the middle of the door. “May I help you?” A deep voice asks from behind the door.

  Dex leans forward and whispers some mysterious-sounding password. I could almost swear it sounded something like, “We’re here to see the wizard.” Whatever secret thing he said, it makes the door unlock with a low buzzing sound.

  A huge burly man stands on the other side, and Dex hands him both of our invitations. The club vets all their patrons, but I’m still a little wary. You could find out if someone is disease-free, sure, but can you tell by their paperwork if they’re serial killers with a penchant for thick girls with a serious reading addiction.

  I think not.

  I’m staring down at the floor, when the burly man wishes us an enjoyable evening, and Dex reaches down and slides his palm against mine. I snap my eyes up to his, a little taken aback, but his expression is open and friendly as he threads his fingers with mine.

  “Come on, Nash. Let’s get your research done.”

  I breathe out a sigh; I shouldn’t freak out every time Dex touches me, it doesn’t mean anything. He’s helping me out because, well, this shit is crazy and terrifying and thrilling all rolled into one. And I’m quite sure Dex frequents these sorts of establishments on a weekly basis; how else would he get laid?

  We find ourselves walking through an enormous Manhattan loft—a large open area with a gourmet kitchen, a living room that hosts lavish furniture, and a full windowed wall with a skyline view of the city. I can’t even imagine what the rent of this place must be. I’ve lived in New York City all my life, and I’ve never stepped foot in a home like this before.

  We climb up a narrow flight of stairs and enter a private back room. We’re hit with the smell of lavender as soon as we walk through the door. I pause for a minute and look around. Immediately I’m intimidated with how many beautiful people there are inside. Everyone is well-dressed, young, and fairly attractive. I feel like Dex and I don’t belong here. Maybe he does, but definitely not me.

  Couples sit cuddled together on luxurious couches, others stand in groups and talk. My shoulders feel tight and heavy.

  “Why do you look like that?” Dex spins on me and brings our entwined hands up between us. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

  I giggle at the position he just spun us in; we look thick as thieves, like close friends sharing an intimate private conversation. He’s trying to make me feel comfortable and safe when he knows how vulnerable I could be here. I guess Dex the doucherocket isn’t such a douche after all. “I imagined this place very differently.”

  “Oh yeah, what did you imagine?” he asks looking down at me with a crooked smile.

  I lift up onto my tippy toes and whisper against his ear, “A bunch of people with extreme fetishes, or odd old pervs standing in dark corners, tugging on themselves as naked women walked around.”

  “I see,” he chuckled, darkly. He releases my hand and his grip falls to my waist. The touch is gentle and warm, and I find myself feeling like there’s too much air in my lungs, too much heat in my veins.

  I step away, blushing, pretending I’m looking around the room for something or someone. “I even imagined there might be torture devices and those kinds of things…” my voice trails off.

  Dex hasn’t moved, he’s staring down at me without an expression I can figure out. “They’re in the other rooms.”

  Oh fuck, really?

  “How about a drink?”

  “Yes please.”

  “What would you like?”

  I feel like this is a loaded question. “What are you going to have?” I ask back.

  He gives me a knowing smile. “I’ll choose then, shall I?”

  Oh shit-fuck-shit. Are we still discussing drinks? I feel breathless as he saunters away. That’s Dex, Brain. Stop thinking porny thoughts about him being here with you.

  “Hey,” a feminine voice calls to the side of me. “You look a little lost. Is this your first time?”

  The woman is gorgeous. I want to grow up and be her. She’s tall, with flawless skin and a perfect shape. I feel like wilting next to her. I nod, and swallow the lump that has formed in my throat. “Yeah, my first time. I’m uh…I’m writing an article about it.”

  The woman takes her bottom lip in her teeth and smiles at me. “Well, if you’re up to it later, would you like to play a little?”

  Oh. My. God.

  I can’t answer the beautiful lady. I’m frozen to the spot. I may have even died.

  Her smile gets even wider and she leans closer to me, the heat of her body hitting me like a fucking tidal wave. Where the fuck is Dex with my drink? “I’d love to play with you. I’m here tonight with my husband, and I think the three of us would be explosive.”

  “Umm.” That’s all I say.

  The woman touches my arm softly and drifts away, smiling like a soft breeze.

  “Well, I’m fully fucking aroused, Nash,” Dex says, holding up a drink for me.

  I’m still staring at the woman as she walks away. “Huh?”

  “You and that woman, Nash. That’s a life’s worth of spank bank material for any man,” he says sipping at his drink.

  I sip mine. It’s red wine. “She asked me to play later with her and her husband.” I gulp back the rest of the wine.

  “How did that make you feel?” he asks, sliding up closer to me.

  My eyes meet his. “Stunned stupid, that was my reaction.”

  “That’s not the answer to my question, though. How did it make you feel knowing that woman wanted you? That her husband wanted you?”

  A blush burns down my cheeks. “A little exhilarating. Not—” I hold a finger up. “Not that I would. Dex I’m not into girls. I mean, she was beautiful but—”

  “Nash, we’re not here to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Just relax and be honest with yourself and your body and have fun.”

  I nod and take his drink out of his hands and down his back too.

  He laughs and his hands are on my waist again, warm and solid, pushing me to walk. “Come on, let’s get you in some of the other rooms so you see what else happens here.”

  I bite my bottom lip and smile.

  We walk through a wide hallway lined with open doors. The first door we pass, Dex guides me inside and I stumble a bit at the opening. Along the walls, about every five feet, is a medium-sized hole, and each hole has a dick popping out of it. And at the end of each dick, there’s a woman on her knees playing with it. “Glory holes?” I ask.

  He stands close behind me and the grip on my waist tightens. I turn my head just a bit, to look up at him. His chin leans over my shoulder, and he whispers his warm breath against my ear. “Is this something you want to try?”

  No. Definitely not. “Um. I’m not sure. What else is here? What’s something pleasing for a woman?”

  He leads me away.

  The next room has cages and a large woman holding a whip. Another room h
as beds with dozens of limbs and bodies entwined with each other. And another with woman glory holes—I’m not even sure what the name for that is. Every room we step into, I turn into Dex’s chest, giggling nervously. Thank God he’s here with me, there’s no way I could have done any of this alone. I’m out of my element—so far out of my element.

  The next area is dark and oddly quiet. There are odd-shaped chairs situated around the room, and lying bent over one is the beautiful woman who propositioned me before. She’s restrained to the bench, while she gives her partner a blowjob. Her bare ass faces up, both cheeks pink. The man’s face is a mix between pleasure and pain as she strokes him in and out of her mouth excruciatingly slow.

  A woman, dressed from head to toe in black latex, circles around the couple. Each time the woman walks around, she slaps a paddle over her bottom. The couple both moan out in pleasure.

  I don’t fold into Dex’s chest this time. It’s very voyeuristic, but I want to watch them. When the beautiful woman notices me, she whispers something low to the latex lady.

  “She wishes to be punished by you,” the woman with the paddle says. “Would you like me to show you how?”

  I look at Dex then I look at the restrained woman. “Please,” she begs.

  So I get taught how to spank someone. The correct way to hold a paddle, the right amount of pain, but I can’t help apologizing to the woman and cringing after each whack, and I giggle through the entire ordeal.

  When the couple leaves, the latex Madame points a finger to me. “Would you like to play?”

  “I’ve never um—I’m uh—” I can’t get the words out. The thing is, I do want to try. Spanking is kind of a vanilla thing.

  “Do you want me to sit with you?” Dex whispers.

  Without thinking I just say, “Yes please.”

  “Lie on the long bench, on your back,” the Madame tells Dex. His eyes flash up to mine as he walks over the table and positions himself on it exactly how she commanded him to.