Reaching Lily

by Vivacia K Ahwen

  ‘Piquerism? Dacryphilia? Somnophilia?’

  ‘Piquerism? Poking with sharp things. There was one girl into body art who just wanted me to pierce her all the time. It was kind of fun. Lots of unexpected bumps.’

  ‘That’s fucked up.’

  ‘Don’t judge. Dacryphilia? Watching you weep.’ He twirled noodles with his chopsticks, unwilling to meet my eyes. ‘Now that is fucked up. I can’t help it. If you were willing to even fake cry for me, I would be delighted, Lily. This is one of my desires that is hard to control. I make women cry whether I want to or not. Something about me cracks people. My hope is that the more we can have my breaking you be part of our playtime, the less I will give into that tendency within myself. Because I want to hurt you, but I don’t want to hurt you.’

  For the first time, Dorian looked defenceless, which drew me in. But I hated what he was saying, especially since he’d already made me cry more than once, and I realised now that it was exciting to him.

  ‘I cry pretty easy,’ I explained. ‘So don’t let it go to your head, if that’s part of what makes you want me. I mean, I get all teary when I’m sad, obviously. But even when I’m pissed off, I cry. Which is embarrassing, since I’m trying to be strong and just look like this weakling. When I’m overwhelmed? Waterworks. When I’m happy – tears of joy. Whatever. And of course, sometimes when I come wicked hard, the tears start flowing faster than the Charles after a thunderstorm.’

  ‘Is it a release for you?’ He cleared his throat. ‘Also, I don’t remember you crying any of the times you came last night. Not that I’m counting.’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just something that happens to me.’ For fuck’s sake, I was welling up even talking about it. ‘You’ll have your fantasy met, trust me. But I may be begging “Mercy” too much for your liking. My emotionality is part of me that I’m wicked uncomfortable with.’

  ‘Of course.’ He nodded.

  ‘But if watching me become a train-wreck is what it takes to have you running around in my head, I want it.’ It was as if a stranger spoke through me. ‘I want to be your sub, so long as you promise to honour our safe word. Mercy, Mr Holder.’

  ‘Of course, Ms Dewitt.’ He ran a finger up the length of my arm, his touch light as a feather, and goosebumps sprung up on my entire left side. ‘That’s why we’re having this conversation. Do you have any sexual requests?’

  ‘Well, yeah. Apparently, I like somnophilia, just didn’t know the word for it. Waking up to find you balls deep in my pussy? Yes. So hot.’ I took a swig of water; my throat was dry from nervousness. ‘And yes, I totally get that it’s a rape fantasy. I have those, as well, but way worse. Please don’t think I’m fucked up, Dorian. I’d never want to do this stuff in real life, or have it done to me, but when I get myself off it’s where my mind wanders.’

  ‘Lily, those are beyond common, but I didn’t want to write them down in case I scared you any worse than I already have. I’m willing to role-play with the rape-thing, but – believe it or not – I might have to say “Mercy” from time to time myself. Does causing pain turn me on? Yes. Being in control? Abso-fucking-lutely. But sexually violating a sweet woman?’ He shakes his head. ‘I’ve had people close to me go through that, so it hits home. Don’t want to get into details, but if there’s any part of me that becomes aroused from destroying something precious, I’m afraid of that monster. If there is such a beast sleeping somewhere within, I don’t want to wake it.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have asked, Dorian.’ His reaction startled me, since he’d pretty much told me that the beast was there. Within the beauty, and likely not so far beneath the surface. ‘It is weird.’

  ‘Not at all, Lily.’ He shook his head. ‘Pedestrian, even. Just know I’ll be wrestling with my own personal demons. But, in case you haven’t noticed, sexually satisfying a woman feeds my ego like nothing else. Whatever pleases you, I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Something tells me your ego doesn’t need much feeding.’

  ‘You don’t know me very well,’ he said. ‘Not many do. Far as the gang-bang thing? Hard line. No judgement – it’s quite a run-of-the-mill female fantasy, though few women are frank as you when it comes to discussing it. But I can’t help you with that one. If I’m fucking, there’s one person with me … unless someone else happens to see us.’

  ‘I figured.’ The hot crew of construction workers flashed in my mind, and I shook my head to clear it. ‘OK, you mentioned voyeurism and exhibitionism. Fucking where we could be walked in on at any moment, or doing it right out in the open yet surreptitiously?’

  ‘Think I can help you with that, Lily. The morning we first spotted each other, I thought of tying you up on one of those poles and ramming you in front of everyone. How wrong is that?’

  ‘A big bowlful of wrong,’ I agreed, pleased. ‘Like you said, they’re just fantasies.’

  ‘You haven’t mentioned waking up to find an attractive stranger in your bedroom,’ he prompts. ‘That I’ve heard many a time.’

  ‘A favourite, yes. Not one I care to act out, at least not at this point.’ My tears receded as I began to enjoy myself. ‘Coming clean feels good, Dorian. When I used to confess my “impure thoughts” in Catholic-school days, the priest always nailed me with saying three rosaries as penance. Which sucked. Case you don’t know, it takes about an hour per rosary. So I’d be in the church, kneeling down, for three fucking hours.’

  ‘Open your mouth and take a bite of egg roll.’ He waved the greasy, flaky goodness in front of me and I obeyed.

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Mmm.’ I chewed, thinking. ‘Dorian Holder, do you think I’m, like, whorish?’

  ‘No, but you’ve got it in you somewhere. I believe in you.’

  I swallowed. ‘Funny.’

  ‘I aim to please.’

  ‘Seriously? Call me every name in the book when we mess around. Call me a dirty trollop. Ask why I’m such a little slut. Tell me you could tell my cunt was just aching for you to ram your hard cock inside me, just from the way I smell.’ I closed my eyes. ‘Say your worst, and I’ll give you my best.’

  ‘You don’t know how hard you’re making me,’ he warned. ‘And I was already halfway there. Say “trollop” again. Just because it’s hilarious.’

  ‘Unless you actually do think I’m a dirty trollop or little slut. Then you can’t say it.’ I gave him a sideways glance. ‘You don’t, do you?’

  ‘Not yet, but I have utter faith, Lily. And I intend to be the man who helps you reach your highest potential in that department.’

  He dropped his chopsticks and reached up the flare of my dress. His palm created a steady heat that quickly spread from thighs to belly and … I shoved his hand away.

  ‘Dorian, let me bring you down to earth.’ This would not be an easy thing to admit, but I had to. ‘I get jealous sometimes. Like when you refer to your “partners”, and I don’t know how many there are besides me. When you’re being open about what gets you worked up, and the women you’ve been with sound liberated and wild, unlike me. Stupid but true. Now that we’ve shared our horny cravings and fears, please don’t talk to me about your past any more.’

  As though he hadn’t heard me, he wedged his fingers into my crotch, first sliding my silky undies away for easier manipulation. As I inhaled, he pressed his thumb at the far end of my pussy, two inches from my asshole.

  He must have felt me tense, because he declared, ‘It does seem you’re very protective of your little rosebud, Lily. We’ll have to do something about that.’

  ‘Dorian, quit it!’ I squirmed, half-hoping he’d just plunge a finger into my vagina and fiddle with my clit, but also curious to see what he’d do to my rosebud.

  Speaking of ‘Rosebud’, we still had to go see Sleeping Beauty. I had to shut this shit down.

  I smacked his hand and wriggled away. ‘Later. I just said something to you, it’s kind of important, and you should respond to me.’

  ‘Are you giving “shou
ld”s to Mr Holder? That’s not our arrangement, Ms Dewitt.’ Dorian put a finger to his lips. ‘Perhaps we should stop talking for a while. Believe it or not, I’m not much for small talk, unless it’s about work. You dare force me to respond?’

  ‘Is that a bad thing? Please tell me that it’s OK that I feel threatened more often than I’d like. And I beg you not to make me feel stupid and mean.’

  ‘Oh, I like the begging. Much better, Lily. Since you are neither stupid nor mean, the only person who could convince you otherwise is yourself. And of course you’re jealous. Everyone is, but it’s not politically correct to admit as much. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m possessive to the point that I turn into a royal prick.’ He seemed almost proud of himself. ‘If we didn’t all envy and covet one another, it wouldn’t be listed under the seven deadly sins. Right? My naughty Catholic schoolgirl?’

  ‘I suppose.’ The conversation was lifting such a burden from my shoulders.

  ‘Trust me, Lily. I know what I’m talking about.’ He pointed to himself. ‘If you look at the animal kingdom, you’ll see the same thing. We want to be the strongest, and keep our mates from straying.’

  ‘Keep talking, please.’ I almost called him Master, or Sir, or Mr Holder, because right then I was so completely into the guy and his pseudoscience. If this was what being dominated by Dorian Holder entailed, so be it.

  Which it did.

  He was telling me how to think. He was teaching me right from wrong. He was reprogramming my brain. He was playing God. But I never thought of it that way at the time. Even if I had, it would have been OK. He was reaching me in the places I always believed were murky, but maybe – maybe they were in all of us. Dorian Holder seemed to think so. He could walk me through my darkness, through the caves, cracks and crevices that had frightened me, but that I knew were there.

  I wanted him to.

  I asked him to.

  I invited him in.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ripples and Waves

  ‘You can look now,’ I sang, prancing out of my bedroom in a wine-coloured, one-armed velvet number. Jean Paul Gaultier, his final collection, but – as Dorian Holder said – who’s counting? Leave it to Beatrice to hook me up with the only piece of haute couture I would probably ever own. I expect I wiggled more than pranced, since the skirt part was on the teeny side. ‘Ta-da! Tell me if we match too much, because I definitely did not expect your coat.’

  He whipped around and drank in my appearance. I was getting used to looking cute by now, despite what Frau Marly said about my, er, generous curves. ‘Jesus Christ, Lily. I can’t wait to tear that thing off you.’

  Wait until he found out I was wearing no panties. After the little almost ‘rosebud probe’, I figured just the Betsey Johnson garter belt and thigh-highs would leave enough room for Dorian to find his way around my ladybits in the darkened auditorium.

  ‘Listen, Lily, the paint fumes from your new closet are starting to get to me. Let’s stay at the hotel tonight, OK?’

  ‘Of course, Mr Holder.’ I fluttered my lashes. ‘Still can’t believe my landlord got those guys in here the same day. They frigging knocked out a wall to build that closet. I feel bad for whoever’s moving in next door – their apartment must have shrunk to nothing.’

  ‘Trust me, I already thought of that,’ Dorian said, his voice smug. He busied himself draping my matching wrap around my shoulders. ‘I plan to turn it into a library for you. Anyone who majored in English should not have her books on cinder-block-and-board shelves in the bedroom. Plus, you shouldn’t have to narrow down your collection because of lack of space. That’s my next project.’

  ‘Sorry, what?’ I spun around to face him and my shawl fell to the floor. ‘What do you mean, your next project?’

  ‘Didn’t Beezus tell you I purchased the property this morning?’ His eyes widened, all innocent.

  Dorian Holder was only trying to sound befuddled, obviously. Despite how brainwashed I was becoming, I smelled a rat. He hadn’t corrected me when I referred to a landlord. He knew I wouldn’t approve of him owning the place I call home, even if he was going back to Colorado in a fortnight or so. Why did it bother me? Because it was fucking creepy, that’s why.

  Everything is for sale, Lily.

  ‘No. And I’m pretty darn sure you knew that.’ I planted my fists on my hips, because if I didn’t find something to do with them quick, I believe I’d have slapped him. ‘Your sister implied that a team of lawyers were meddling and threatening to report code violations to the state, which I assumed was why the property manager had them build the closet so fast. I had no idea you were going to buy the place. My place.’

  ‘You could have just said “Mercy”.’ His voice was cold.

  ‘You didn’t give me the chance.’ I began pacing. ‘What the hell, Dorian?’

  ‘I told you from the first day how it was going to be. You agreed to let me help put you on a better track to success. Living in some dump is not the answer.’ He scowled at me. ‘I’m trying to build you a castle, Lily. Can’t you see that?’

  ‘What, so I can be your Rapunzel, up in a tower?’ I wheeled around and looked him squarely in his eyes, which were glowing with anger.

  He glared at me and leaned in, not saying a word. I took a step back. He took a step closer; slow and deliberate, eyes still locked with mine. ‘Who … do … you … think … you’re … talking to?’ he growled.

  ‘I –’

  ‘Some women,’ he seethed, taking another step towards me, ‘would express a little courtesy and possibly even some gratitude!’

  I burst into tears. He was probably thrilled.

  If there is such a beast sleeping somewhere inside me, I don’t want to wake it. Had I awakened his beast? I didn’t want to know.

  ‘Get out.’ My voice shook. ‘Get out now, Mr Holder.’

  ‘Very well.’ He mockingly bowed to me.

  ‘M-maybe you should take one of those – those more dangerous women to the stupid ballet,’ I snapped, hating what a child I sounded. God, please make me stop crying.

  ‘As you wish, Lily.’

  Dorian Hartley Holder left without a word, slamming the door on the way out. I pulled off my pumps and threw them against the door, hoping he heard me as he descended the stairs – stairs that now, somehow, belonged to him.

  Swiping at my cheeks, I dropped to the floor and the makeshift tapestry tablecloth we’d used for our romantic indoor picnic, and considered bingeing on the rest of our take-out feast. But I remembered Frau Marly’s words and changed my mind. Instead, I grabbed our two fortune cookies and squeezed them in my fists until the ridges stung my hands and they crumbled. In my left hand, the thin slip of paper read:

  Where there is a ripple, there is a wave.

  Huh?

  The other one:

  You cannot make two people like each other.

  I always hated fortune cookies, anyway.

  So not tasty.

  So obligatory.

  * * *

  It should go without saying that Gwen didn’t pick up all night, though I called her a million times. Also, I texted an SOS message, which sounds dramatic, but we’ve agreed to use it when there’s emotional breakdown. Feeling lonelier still, I shot a note to Jay-Jay, asking if he wanted to go to the weekly 80s party at Skandal, a new club on the Square. Though he had been begging me for a ‘fag-hag night’ (his words, not mine) since the place opened, apparently he’d found something better for Wednesday night. Harsh. After finishing the bottle of wine Dorian had uncorked, I found myself on the horn with Troy Matthews, who answered after one ring.

  ‘Lily?’ he said, too soon. I hadn’t remembered giving him my digits, but I didn’t remember much about my birthday weekend, so it only threw me for a second.

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Whatcha doing?’

  ‘Not much.’ There was TV noise in the background. ‘OK, I’m binge-watching Netflix.’

  ‘Huh.’ Though I’m one of those people wh
o don’t own a television, I wasn’t snooty about it. ‘Whatcha watchin’?’

  ‘Californication.’ There was a certain amount of shame in his voice, and the digital chatter came to a halt.

  ‘I can get behind that.’ Who couldn’t get behind David Duchovny running around in his underwear for seven seasons? He was Ma’s second-favourite actor crush, and she’d turned me on to X-Files once I was old enough not to fear aliens. ‘Listen, I just wanted to say I was sorry about the other day in the café. Didn’t mean to give you the cold shoulder, but was seriously embarrassed about how I behaved on Saturday night.’

  ‘It was your birthday,’ Troy replied. ‘Every once in a while we’ve got to give in to our dark side.’

  ‘You sound like –’ I cut myself off. ‘I mean, yeah, thanks for understanding.’

  ‘No problem.’

  There were about ten seconds of dead air, and then he said, ‘If you feel like coming over and just vegging out for awhile, I’ve got three seasons left.’

  Something prickled down the back of my neck. It felt like a speedy ant, and I scratched, instinctively. ‘Eh, I dunno. I’ve got an early morning.’

  ‘How are things going at the office?’ Though his voice was light, there was a certain something behind it. ‘Heard the CEO is a real dick, firing everyone left and right. All kinds of Apollyon people are taking up unemployment claims.’

  ‘Well, yeah.’ I took a breath. ‘Things are kind of transitional right now, I guess. They owed me some vacation time, and I went for it. Figure if I go back after the dust settles, I can keep my stupid job. But – and keep this on the DL – I’ve started sending out résumés.’

  This was not entirely true, but after getting Beatrice Collins’s kick-ass imaginary letter of recommendation, and my non-boyfriend being such a fuckhead tonight, I would make it happen.

  ‘Huh.’

  ‘Right?’

  ‘So, you’re coming over?’