Reaching Lily

by Vivacia K Ahwen

  ‘If he’s a borderline schizophrenic with delusions of grandeur –’

  ‘Let’s not discuss Dad,’ I suggested, padding into the kitchenette to pour a generous glass of blackberry wine. ‘Dorian’s a different story. His grandeur is no delusion; you’ve seen the pictures. Though his accomplishments and place in the world have gone to his head, any grandness about the man is something he’s earned. Or, OK, some of it he inherited. I don’t know what to make of him. Of anything. I just remember that some of those guys at the club …’

  Part of me wanted to tell Ma everything. But this was a conversation belonging to the two of us sitting face-to-face across her 60s retro Formica table. I should say our old 60s retro Formica table. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go home, yet. Nor to go there with her.

  ‘All right.’ Ma sighed. ‘So he didn’t make up the CEO story and create a false identity online. Good. That’s a nice beginning.’

  ‘The rest?’ I ran my fingers through my hair, momentarily surprised when I didn’t have to drag them through a bunch of snarls. ‘The rest of the story? Oh, my God.’

  ‘Lily, stop taking the name of the Lord in vain.’ Though she was kidding, there was a serious note in her voice. ‘What’s going on? Are you sleeping with him?’

  I was quiet.

  ‘Oh, Lily.’ I could picture her worried brow. ‘Couldn’t you have waited for a few months? Or at least a few weeks?’

  ‘Who are you, and what have you done with my sex-positive mother?’ I demanded, but my joke fell flat. ‘Look, it’s complicated. And I’m OK, I think. Just trying to figure some stuff out.’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘Lily –’

  ‘Ma, there’s someone here. I’ll call back in five minutes. Love you!’ I made a kissing sound, tried to hang up my fancy phone, which involved sliding an icon, gave up and flung open the door. ‘Jesus Christ.’

  There stood Dorian Holder, CEO, wearing a tuxedo, looking like something straight out of a James Bond movie Sunday-afternoon marathon. As though on cue, my phone quacked, ‘Lily?’

  ‘Ma, I’ve got company, and can’t shut this thing off.’ My arms dropped to my sides. There was a fleeting moment of hoping Dorian was blown away by my awesome makeover, but from the impassive expression on his face I looked the same as I did the very first time he set foot in my apartment.

  Two days ago.

  ‘May I come in, Ms Dewitt?’

  I nodded and Dorian stepped over the threshold and snatched the phone from my hand, raising an eyebrow at me. ‘Dorian Holder speaking. I apologise, but the owner of this phone apparently cannot figure out how to end a call. May I be of any assistance?’

  I spun around in a little circle of annoyance, but when I saw his face change from arrogance to embarrassment, I froze.

  ‘Jasmine, I’m sorry.’ He held his index finger to his lips, raised both eyebrows and wandered into my living room. ‘Right, Jaz, I meant. I thought you were someone else. Yes, of course.’

  Give me the fucking phone, I mouthed at Dorian Holder.

  ‘She’s right here.’

  ‘Ma?’

  ‘That’s him?’

  ‘Quit whispering, and yes. Hanging up now. With a little help. I’ll explain later.’

  Dorian snatched the phone away. ‘Jasmi– OK, Jaz. She’s in good hands, and I’ll have her call you when we return. Sorry? Yes, Sleeping Beauty. I’ll try to stay awake. I hope so. Uh … thanks. Good night.’

  Deftly, he slid his fingers across the screen. ‘For future reference –’

  ‘What the fuck?’

  There was a thunk as he dropped my awesome new smartphone on the floor and grasped me hard. Dorian Holder meant business. With one arm around my waist and one hand cupping my head, he kissed me as though we were the sailor and the unsuspecting nurse in that famous Life Magazine photograph – VJ Day, 1945.

  For a second I lost my footing, but he set me down and smiled in that disarming way. ‘Hello, Ms Dewitt.’

  ‘Hi, Mr Holder.’

  ‘You are so damned kissable.’ He ran a finger along my lips as though applying gloss.

  ‘You’re so damned … early.’ My brain was mash. ‘Dorian, you look –’

  He shut me down with another solid smooch, this time less stagey, more business. Our tongues entwined and it felt, for just a moment, as though I had been kissing this man for my entire adult life. Like this was what I’d hoped my first stolen snog would feel like.

  Dorian Holder yanked my pelvis hard against his own, his hardness showing me just how ready he was to recreate the previous night, while still promising something more. The length of that hard, horny mantube running the distance between my wet vagina and hard clit-tip, his enormous knob sliding and pressing with such insistence against my entire pelvis – it was beyond distracting.

  My pussy ached and wanted.

  Forgive me. My pussy throbbed.

  Tearing his lips from mine, he looked at my face and at last noticed my altered appearance. ‘You look quite fetching, Lily. Did you have a haircut today?’

  ‘I had a lot of hairs cut.’ Seriously, was that the only thing he noticed? Men. ‘Dorian, please look at me. Check me out. I’m all shiny and new.’

  He stepped back, and drank me in. ‘Beezus seems to have taken you to all the right places. You look nothing short of phenomenal. Sorry I didn’t notice earlier. I’ve just been aching to hold you and I’m a bit out of sorts. Had to keep trying to fight off hard-ons all day at the office, whenever I thought about you and last night. Which was more often than I’d expected.’

  ‘Which was also pretty intense,’ I said, looking down at my bare feet.

  ‘Furthermore, I was struggling with some regrets.’

  I knew it.

  ‘Describe,’ I said, trying to keep my voice from wavering. ‘What kind of regrets?’

  ‘When I spoke to you as you were bathing this morning, I should have left work, told Bea to put off your girly-time, gone back to the hotel and fucked you until you couldn’t see straight.’ Dorian put a finger below my chin and lifted my head so I was forced to meet his glowing eyes. ‘I pictured you, pale and shimmering in the water, surrounded by orange petals. And somehow I managed not to look at the picture of your sweet little cooch more than once, you bad girl. Otherwise, I’d have had to jerk off again, and I wanted to save my ammo.’

  ‘Your “ammo”?’ I started laughing. ‘What?’

  ‘My energy, that is, for tonight.’ He kissed my neck, slithering his tongue out for a sweet lick, smoothing his hands along my breasts, down my sides, over my hips. ‘Now, Lily, much as I appreciate polka dots, I’d like to tear this dress off you, stat. I am early, as you said. Should we skip dinner, and –’

  ‘Laters,’ I said, managing to untangle myself, and picked up an envelope from the futon. ‘We have ballet tickets, remember? And what else do I have in here? Oh, look. It’s a list of “will I or won’t I?” from my sexy new special friend, Dorian Holder, CEO.’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ Dorian looked askance. ‘Let’s go over those another time, shall we? If I so much as imagine doing to you – and you to me – what’s written, there’s no way we’re leaving this apartment tonight.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Here.’ He handed me yet another envelope. I’d have to start a Dorian file. ‘Of course, to be even and fair, I had to fill out the same paperwork.’

  ‘Of course.’ I accepted the envelope, and slipped it in a new Neiman Marcus bag. ‘Don’t let me forget what I did with that.’

  ‘Trust me, I won’t let you forget. I’d rather my sexual predilections not be fodder for public consumption. Nor have your privacy violated.’

  ‘No, I … Never mind.’ I ran my hand across his cummerbund, appreciating the texture of his hard abdominal muscles underneath. ‘You should wear tuxedos every day, Dorian. Seriously, you look so hot it’s ridiculous. Not many straight men can get away with a burgundy jacket.’

  ‘Stop,’ he said, and
there was a harsh note in his voice that told me he meant it.

  ‘Sorry.’ I let go. ‘Hey, want to see my new closet? Beatrice talked to my building manager and somehow got him to hire the world’s fastest construction crew.’

  ‘Of course.’ He followed me. ‘I’ve been wanting to see your bedroom.’

  ‘I’m sure you have.’ I gestured at the closet. ‘Ta-da! You can even pick out what I’m going to wear tonight.’

  ‘What’s the fun in that? Surprise me.’ Dorian folded and unfolded one of the closet doors. ‘Seems pretty sturdy. It’ll work for now.’

  ‘It’ll work? This is awesome, what are you talking about?’ I sat down on my bed and patted the space beside me. ‘Have a seat, Dorian.’

  He gave a quick, furtive look around the room. ‘I don’t –’

  ‘Nobody’s here. Relax.’

  Dorian remained standing. ‘We need to get you a bed.’

  ‘I have one.’

  ‘That’s not a bed. It’s a mattress.’

  ‘And you’re too good for mattresses?’

  ‘No. But if I sit down next to you, we won’t leave your apartment. Possibly for a few days. Say, what if you offer me a glass of that blackberry wine and we go back to the living room?’

  ‘You’re an odd duck, Dorian Holder.’ I reached up and he pulled me to my feet. Having spent the day in heels, I felt extremely small next to him. ‘Wine it is.’

  We sat on the couch, sipping sweet legginess and listening to the steady click of the Eclipse Regulator. I asked him why he looked sad and he shrugged.

  ‘Not sad, just nostalgic.’ He pointed at the clock. ‘You told me you were close to your grandmother.’

  ‘Gamma.’ I nodded. ‘Very much so.’

  ‘My grandparents raised me until I was seven,’ he said, squeezing my hand. ‘I miss them as well, and today would have been their fiftieth anniversary. They’ve been on my mind. That is, when I wasn’t thinking of you, the upcoming merger and tax evasion, of course.’

  ‘You didn’t live with Mr – I mean, your father?’

  ‘Long story. My father wasn’t “ready” to have kids around. Or something.’

  From the shadow that crossed his face, I could see he regretted bringing it up and didn’t want to pursue the topic. ‘Well, what did they listen to? You can pick something out on the iPod.’

  ‘Bumpa liked country. Gundy was all about easy listening. I’m feeling a little more like Kansas today than Waylon.’

  ‘Bumpa and Gundy?’

  ‘I know, I know.’ He took off his jacket and draped it over the arm of the futon.

  ‘Ah-ha. You’ll love this playlist, then.’ My soft rock collection. We started laughing as the opening strains of Bread’s ‘If’ warbled out of the Bose speakers.

  ‘How did people ever listen to this stuff seriously?’ He looked at the floor, trying to hide his enjoyment.

  ‘Right.’ I reached for the Neiman Marcus bag and pulled out his envelope. ‘Hey, let’s just order Chinese and eat here. Show starts at eight, right?’

  ‘Yeah, I wanted to read yours, as well. Also, did Beezus give you my medical records?’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Have you opened them?’

  ‘I didn’t. In fact, I’m going to give them back to you, and just take your word for it that you’re “safe”.’ ‘Safe’ was one of the last words I would use to describe Dorian, but we were clear. ‘Whatever’s in there is none of my business, beyond our agreed week or two of fucking and such, so you can just take it home.’

  ‘I won’t read yours either,’ he said, sounding relieved.

  Maybe he had a major history of drug abuse or something. I could totally see him going through a lot of blow. Or maybe meth. He had a lot of work to do.

  ‘Cool.’ I squeezed his hand. ‘Here’s something important we’ve got to talk about, Dorian. I don’t want to go to that crazy Harvard lady for lessons. She was horrible to me.’

  ‘All ancient dance instructors are horrible. I had one. Mean old bitch.’ He grinned. ‘You don’t have to go. But it would make me happy. Wouldn’t you like to make me happy?’

  ‘Dorian, I’ll be blunt. Did you send me around with Beatrice today and have me groomed like a poodle then get totally humiliated by some angry German lady –’

  ‘Check your xenophobia, Lily.’

  ‘– for some kind of personal satisfaction?’

  ‘You mean sexual satisfaction?’ He clicked his tongue. ‘Look at me, Lily Dewitt. I need to see your eyes.’

  ‘OK.’

  He peered at me with an intensity that made me shiver. ‘Much as I enjoy administering a bit of humiliation and mild pain with a bit of slap and tickle, I wouldn’t do so without knowing you were enjoying yourself. Or, if you were miserable, that you enjoyed being miserable.’

  ‘From your mind games? And your bossiness? And your mood swings –’

  ‘It’s all part and parcel, baby.’

  When I didn’t return his smile, he cleared his throat.

  ‘OK, Lily. Maybe I’m an asshole, but I’m not evil. There’s a difference. And I would never, ever put you in a position where you aren’t OK. Just like I wouldn’t leave any permanent damage on your hot little body, I won’t leave any permanent damage on your psyche. Got it?’

  Dorian spoke of evil as though he had known some. I decided not to pursue that topic.

  ‘Well, kind of. So that stuff you pulled at the conference when you met me? We didn’t have any sort of agreement then.’ I poked his chest. ‘And, remember, we’re still negotiating terms.’

  ‘Yes, we did have an agreement. An unspoken one, but an agreement nevertheless.’

  ‘How do you figure?’

  ‘You cowered before me, while sending overpowering sexual energy in my direction. And I was frightening, because that’s what you sought, that’s what you wanted. When a beautiful woman opens herself to me with her eyes?’

  ‘I opened other things.’

  ‘Look, Lily, I’ve been looking for glasz eyes my entire life. If I see such a rare treasure begging to be stolen, first thing I want to do is dominate that beauty. Seeing a combination of fear, intrigue and desire in a woman’s gaze arouses me beyond all reason.’

  ‘Fear?’

  ‘The body’s experiences of fear and falling in love are almost indistinguishable.’

  ‘I know that. I took Intro to Psych, Dorian.’

  ‘Perhaps I should have said intimidation. I don’t want you to actually be afraid of me.’

  ‘Working on that.’

  ‘Lily, the way you looked at me on the subway, when we first saw each other? How you licked your lips that morning in the boardroom?’ He sighed. ‘And when you were staring at my cock in the café –’

  ‘I licked my lips?’ I was horrified.

  ‘Tell me I’m not crazy, that I wasn’t picking up on mutual attraction off the charts.’ His brow furrowed. ‘And also hear me, trust me, believe me when I tell you that I hold you in the highest regard.’

  We stared at each other. I blinked first, of course. ‘Dammit.’

  ‘Told you, Holders always win. Look, maybe we should go over our What We Do lists, now, so I don’t risk pissing you off yet again.’ He reached across my lap and grabbed the take-out menu. ‘How’s the Chinese around here?’

  ‘Cheap and delicious.’

  ‘Just like Lily Dewitt.’

  ‘Screw you, Mr Holder.’ I giggled, in spite of myself. ‘You call it in. I want a combination fourteen, and tell them to bring chopsticks this time.’

  * * *

  We picnicked on an Indian tapestry I tossed on the living room floor.

  ‘See?’ I said, spearing a dumpling. ‘Delicious. How’s the lo mein treating you?’

  ‘Dandy.’ Dorian swallowed a bite, but his eyes were darting over my list. ‘Contrary to what you claimed, Lily, I’d call you a very adventurous girl indeed. Maybe not the most experienced, but your openness to new things is such a turn-on you
can’t even know. “Yiffing”, for the record, is furry-fandom sex, and I was kidding about that. Now that I see you want me to dress up like a musical burn victim, I suppose it was a reasonable question.’

  ‘You mean people actually have sex in those mascot suits?’ I was horrified. ‘That’d be like screwing a clown.’

  ‘Clowns need love, too, Lily.’ He was deadpan.

  ‘I’m … surprised … to see you’re OK with being dominated.’ Actually, there was plenty on his list that surprised me, and much of it seemed inconsistent with everything he’d shown me of himself thus far. ‘And relieved to see that you aren’t into pee, blood and poop games. I had wondered if all this was stuff you wanted at some level, but there’s a lot of ones.’

  ‘Figured you’d think that, and no … which is why I left out a few key items. This is supposed to be a conversation-starter as much as anything else. Inspirational, even. I wrote what women have asked me for, at one point or another. Or what they’re interested in when we’ve watched porn together. I want to know your fantasies as much as tell you mine.’ He pointed to the paper. ‘“Pegging” would be you wearing a strap-on and fucking me up the ass.’

  ‘Have you done that before?’ And the inevitable follow-up question: ‘and are you bisexual?’

  ‘No, I’m not bisexual. And yes, I let one woman do that, since she kept hounding.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s only fair that I let my partners play out their fantasies, as long as I get mine. She was into being the dominatrix, which you also asked about.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘While I allow a woman to dominate, it does nothing for me. In fact, it’s all I can do not to laugh.’ His mouth curved. ‘Also, I’ve always had to picture something else going on, just to get it up.’

  ‘Is getting it up ever a problem for you?’ I looked at his trousers, noticing that the fabric had begun to swell again, just from talking about what we could and might do to each other. ‘I find that hard to believe. So to speak.’

  ‘Absolutely not. Pretending a woman can even begin to dominate me is such a joke that it’s tough to keep my head in the game.’

  ‘Pretty sexist, if you ask me.’

  ‘Oh, completely sexist. But if you’d like to try – and it looks as though you do – fair play.’ He smirked. ‘Being your master is my ultimate turn-on, as you can see. But I’m always up for surprises.’