On the Rox

  Betty pulled into an empty spot across the street.

  I hopped out of the car as fast as I could. The awkward silence that hung in the air felt suffocating. “Whatever. I’ll go see for myself.”

  “Rox, wait. Wait for us,” Betty said. She had that tone in her voice that only came out when she meant business.

  I’d heard it plenty of times before, and I trusted my best friend. I knew well enough to listen to her when her voice became sharp-edged.

  I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, hoping I wasn’t walking into a funeral. DTF’s usual silly mood was much less fun and much more serious.

  Why the fuck isn’t anyone telling me what’s going on?

  “Come on.” Layla put her arm around me and offered up a quick smile before dragging me into The Lounge.

  We opened the doors to the crowded bar.

  “Congratulations!” came voice after voice around me as I elbowed my way through the crowd.

  I looked back to Betty, who followed me closely behind, and shook my head.

  What did I do? I mouthed back to her.

  I noticed friends from the shelter and regular customers from the truck, and I thought I’d even spotted my old uncle Mark. Everyone wore a smile, gave me a thumbs-up, told me congratulations, or clapped me on the back.

  “Is this because we expanded The Pink Taco Truck?”

  “No! It’s not the tacos. It’s you. You fixed your broken wings, Rox. And everyone else’s.” Betty pushed me forward, steering me with her hands on my shoulders.

  I guessed she was pushing me to our usual corner table.

  “I’m not fixed yet! I don’t understand,” I said above the cheering of the crowd. “How?” The words caught in my throat as I noticed Jay sitting at the corner table.

  Betty let go of my shoulders and disappeared. Jay stood up as soon as he saw me, coming to my aid because, somehow, he knew I was about to fall.

  “Rox,” Jay said, rushing to my side and taking me in his arms.

  My heartbeat slowed the second I felt his touch. All of the confusion and chaos melted away, leaving just me and him standing there. He felt like home.

  “What’s going on, Jay? I thought you were back in Australia?” I peeled myself off of him, so I could search his eyes.

  “I did go back home—unfinished business. I visited my parents’ graves and told them the good-bye I never got to tell them. I grieved—for weeks. I quit running, and I just let myself feel and be human. I holed myself up in a hotel and walked through hell. I’m not going to lie, Rox; I’m still going through hell. But at least now, I’m crawling out of it. It’s slowly disappearing behind me. I realized I didn’t need to run to forget. I only needed to stay put. My marathon wasn’t running away. It was dragging myself through the worst experiences of my life, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. I was in a bad, bad place. But I have you to thank for setting me on the path to getting out of it.”

  I put my hand to my chest as if to keep my heart from breaking out of my rib cage. My pulse thumped through my veins hard, causing me to wince.

  “I didn’t do anything. That healing, that was all you. You did the hard stuff, and you still are. You always will be. Thank you for being open. I was very sad when you left. I thought when the girls told me you had unfinished business, you were working back in Australia. I didn’t know you were healing. I had nothing to do with that.”

  “No. I would never leave you if you hadn’t told me to. I knew you needed space, and that was just another hard thing I had to do. I know you had to heal too. But really, you had everything to do with my healing. This is my way of saying thanks.”

  He took my hand and led me to the back corner table, where stacks of books lay piled high.

  “What is this?” I picked up a book and ran my fingertips over the gold-flecked cover. I brought it closer to my eyes as I squinted in the dark to try to read the title.

  Kintsugi

  By Roxanne Corvus

  I set it down and grabbed the sides of the table, steadying myself.

  “Is this what I think it is? My poems? How did they …” I picked the book back up, thumbing through the pages and reading my poems. I flipped to the front.

  You don’t have to laugh to keep from crying. You are capable of doing both, read the inscription.

  I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “Did you do this?” I whispered, falling onto a chair.

  “Depends. If you’re mad about it, I’m going to blame Betty. If not, it was all me. You did tell me you wanted to publish them one day.” Jay sat down beside me, scooting his chair closer so that our knees touched.

  He dipped his head to catch my eyes, but I didn’t look up. I couldn’t even lift my gaze.

  “Rox? You okay?” he said, reaching out to rub my knee.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but instead, I let myself cry. He pulled me over into his lap and pressed my body tight against his. I let myself feel the pain, the shock, and the joy that flooded my emotions. It wasn’t until half an hour later that I realized where I was and noticed my poems were being read in the background by DTF.

  I wiped my eyes with a scratchy napkin and squeezed Jay’s hand as we both turned our attention to the small stage and listened. Betty read about escaping nightmares and ferocious taco-eating dinosaurs. Layla read about finding self-worth and a rabid, perverted squirrel. I laughed and cried through the reenactments that she gestured with her hands and hips.

  “Still was a hot fuck in the woods. Squirrel or not,” Jay whispered in my ear, sitting up.

  “The best.” I nodded.

  “Mmhmm,” he growled back at me, his hands tight on my hips.

  I melted into his lap, feeling him harden underneath me.

  “ ‘Divine Intervention,’ ” Nikki read, clearing her throat loudly and turning her attention toward Jay and me in the back.

  “I didn’t write that,” I whispered, shifting around on his lap.

  His dick felt like a steel rod jabbing me from behind.

  “I did,” he said, nervously bouncing his knees, which sent me bouncing too.

  My body shook back and forth as I held on to the arms of the chair.

  “What are we doing? Playing Ride the Horsey? I can’t listen if you’re bucking me to the ground.”

  “Sorry. Sorry.” He stilled his legs.

  “Are you two ready or what?” Nikki said into the microphone.

  We turned our attention back toward her and the crowd that had been watching our entire antics, laughing.

  “Right! Let’s hear it. Sorry about that!” Jay called loudly, nodding for Nikki to begin.

  “Ahem,” Nikki said, clearing her throat.

  “Divine Intervention”

  I think of you,

  And the battles of my past

  Melt away,

  As if your fingertips are flames,

  Bringing me out of this ice

  I’ve been frozen inside of for

  Far too long.

  You flew into my life,

  Your wings unfurled.

  Majestic Raven,

  Wrapped in gold

  Crystal spells

  Witch’s brew.

  Stars aligned,

  And I found you.

  I roamed the earth,

  And I found you.

  I knew you.

  I’ve always known you.

  In another lifetime,

  You were mine,

  And I was yours.

  And now, we are here,

  Together.

  I am home.

  When Nikki finished, I let out my breath that I’d held during the entire poem.

  “You really feel that way?” I asked, taking deep breaths to steady myself.

  “Absolutely.” Jay brushed my hair out of my face.

  “Do you know that before you came into my life, I had never had a man show me even a fraction of the kindness that you have? That the first time we came here, you pull
ed my chair out for me, and I was confused because I didn’t know what you were doing that for or what it meant. I thought maybe you were looking for me to repay you in sex or something when you did these nice things. I’ve never had someone be so patient, kind, and loving with me.”

  “Fuck those fuckers and their fucking bullshit. You deserve patience, kindness, love, and all the good things in life,” he growled, circling his arms around me even tighter.

  “So do you. I want to apologize for pushing you away. I’m really sorry I just wasn’t ready to understand how to be normal in a normal and healthy relationship. I’m still slowly learning myself again. Just so you know, I am a work in progress. But I also want you to know that I’ve known my true feelings for you for a while now. Even if I fought against them because they scared me. I knew from that moment you ordered me an On the Rox cocktail and licked my pussy underneath the prim-and-proper tablecloth of your restaurant. I knew then that I loved you, Jay Taylor. Squirrel phobia and all. I didn’t just appear for you at the right time, but you appeared for me at the right time too.”

  “I know. I guess it was just meant to be.”

  “Some of that divine intervention.” I smiled, reaching into my bra and pulling out the rose quartz stone Nikki had given me months ago.

  “Ha! The universe is speaking to us,” he said, shifting to put his hand in his pocket and pulling out a similar rose quartz crystal.

  “So, that really was a rock in your pocket! Thought so! Damn near felt like steel!” I laughed.

  “For you. All for you, Kintsugi.” He pressed his lips to mine and made out with me in the corner to the sounds of my poems from my badass book being read in the background.

  “You two need to get a damn room,” Betty said, rudely interrupting my dry-hump session.

  “Let them enjoy it. While they’re still young,” Earl muttered behind her.

  Layla, Nikki, Aiden, and even Terrance gathered around our table.

  “Did you tell her the best part?” Layla looked back and forth from Jay to me.

  “I haven’t had the honor yet. How about you tell her?” Jay winked at Layla, who clearly couldn’t hold back her excitement any longer.

  “Ten percent of proceeds on the book is set up to go straight to the shelter!” she blurted out.

  “What? Really? Oh my gosh! You thought of everything! Wow!” I hugged Jay. My smile grew so wide that my cheeks ached.

  “You did well. Proud of you. Both of you. Guess that means I’m not getting that Crocodile Dundee handbag.” Betty pursed her lips and raised her brows at Jay.

  “Guess not. But if you prefer a furry squirrel bag, I might be able to help you out there,” he replied, making even Betty break her fierce gaze and laugh.

  “Looks like you’d better get to signing!” Nikki handed me a pen and motioned toward the line that had begun to form in front of us.

  “Right!” I hopped off of Jay’s lap and smoothed down my skirt. “Let’s do it!”

  “Quick toast! Quick toast!” Aiden called as a waitress brought over several glasses of champagne.

  “To Rox! To Jay! To new beginnings!” Layla shouted, bouncing on her heels.

  “And to DTF!” I added.

  “DTF!” my best friends shouted back.

  We clinked our glasses together before I settled into a chair and picked up a book to begin signing. Jay sat down beside me, scooting in close.

  “Look at my wild raven, flying free.” He smiled. His eyes glistened as he blinked back tears.

  “Ravens mate for life, ya know. So, I guess you could say they have soul mates. Want to soar through the sky with me?” I asked as I began to sign my first book.

  “Let’s go fast.” He leaned into me, kissing my cheek.

  Epilogue

  Jay

  “Where does this box go?” I asked Rox.

  My back ached from carrying her moving boxes for two days. So far, we had cleared her home out of everything, except her master bedroom. She had kept that door shut since I had known her.

  “You can set it in the kitchen.” Rox sat on the floor of my living room, unboxing books, candles, and whatever else she’d brought over from her witch’s lair.

  “Well, this is the last one. Everything else is gone, cleared out. What about your master bedroom? What are you going to do with it all? Betty isn’t going to want your old furniture in her new house.” I set the box down in the kitchen, jumping over the obstacle course of knickknacks strung out in our living room.

  “Burn it,” Rox said without looking up.

  “Rox! You can’t burn it! Aiden and I can take care of it if you don’t want to set foot in there. I understand.”

  “DTF will help too. I’m sorry, Jay. I just can’t go back into that room ever again. I don’t want to see any of that stuff from my old life. I’m ridding myself of all of it. This is a fresh start for me.” She lifted herself off the floor and put her arms around me.

  “It’s a fresh start for me too. And do you know what I like to do with something new?” I asked, sweeping her off her feet and cradling her in my arms.

  “What’s that?” She smiled, pulling herself up to meet my lips.

  “Fuck in every room. We have to christen it,” I muttered into her mouth.

  “Oh, is that what you were doing that day when I saw you spew your load on the couch? You were christening it?” she said, pulling back from me and laughing.

  “Damn! I told you that you’d never let that go.”

  “I’m sorry! You just left the door open for that one. I had to take it. Let’s christen every single room, starting with … this one. It’s not like your couch hasn’t seen jizz before!”

  “And … you’re still going.” I carried her to the couch and sat her down, wincing as she brushed against my forearm.

  She stuck her hand out and gently ran her fingertips over my wrapped tattoo.

  “It’s still sore?” she asked, pouting her lips.

  “Just a little. Nothing I can’t handle though. I’m tough as nails.” I rubbed my hand across the drawing of my homeland.

  The tattoo artist had filled in my country with our flag and my mum’s and dad’s initials. I had decided against my poor cat’s face and marked myself with my story. I smiled, finally on the other side of grief and looking forward to the next chapter of my life.

  “No, you’re tough as a railroad spike, Jay Taylor. Now, get over here and fuck me in my—our new lair!” She cackled.

  “Lair? Can’t we call it a nest?” I groaned, looking down at her perfect body.

  My cock stirred, lengthening down my leg. Her eyes widened at the bulge in my pants.

  “We are going to have to hash this one out. But for now, come get on the Rox!” She pulled her top up over her head, flinging it across the room.

  “On the Rox!” I smiled. “That’s the best damn way to take life. With you by my side. Or under me.” I grinned, hopping on top of her and smothering her with my love.

  The End

  Want more dtf?

  read on for the first chapter from cream-pied.

  Cream-Pied

  Chapter 1

  Nikki

  Crowds gathered at The Steamy Clam every Saturday night since I’d made my debut onstage and twirled around the pole. I had made eight hundred dollars that night, and by the size of the audience tonight, I hoped I could make even more. I wasn’t entirely broke, but a string of bad boyfriends had left me in a mountain of debt that I’d been digging my way out of for years. For some reason, I attracted the laziest, trashiest, and brokest douche bags around.

  With my time pulled between working two jobs, I barely made it to my new passion, volunteering with disadvantaged youth at the cottage. Those kids had seen and lived some of the darkest moments imaginable. I wasn’t a stranger to that life either, so I did my best to help them through that. We would work on art projects, play sports, and do homework or anything else that came up. The most important gift I could give the children was my st
eady and positive presence in their lives. That was why I had been running myself crazy, working at The Steamy Clam at night. I planned on quitting after I paid off my debt and devoted more time to do the volunteer work that made me truly happy and fulfilled.

  Of course, my life as a dancer had been kept under wraps at the cottage. Not because I was ashamed of my job, but because most people found that depressing as hell. The stigma surrounding strip clubs always included blow and prostitution. But in my experience, it was all about women supporting other women and a judgment-free zone. Still, I couldn’t go around, telling children that. The kids at the cottage all knew me as the taco truck lady who had risen above her traumatic childhood and was making it on her own. Of course, I had also left out the fact that I was broker than shit because of my dumbass ex-boyfriends.

  At this point in my life, I was finally getting my shit together. I felt a calling to let the youth of the world know that they could rise above the shitty cards they’d been dealt too.

  I swiped a bold lipstick across my lips and readied myself in front of the mirror, carefully sticking red heart pasties over my nipples and adjusting my G-string. I shook my fingers through my hair, fluffing it up and out until it looked like I’d stuck my finger in an electric socket. Bigger was always better—with everything.

  The last dancer, Kiki, filed in, pulling money from her boots and G-string and winking at me. Kiki had taught me the ropes of the club not long ago. She had been working the pole for six years and helped me nail all of my spins, climbs, and inverted moves.

  “Those are the moneymaking tricks,” she had told me back when I was fresh meat at the club.

  Men loved it when dancers were facedown and ass up, gyrating on the pole. If I could hold myself upside down while booty-popping for twenty seconds, she had told me that I would earn double my usual payout per dance. I’d made a mental note to work on staying up as long as possible and slowing the blood rush to my head. The quicker I was paid, the faster I was gone out of here.