by Ashlee Price
“No problem.”
I went back downstairs and finished the last two beers in the kitchen, waiting for her to go to sleep. Besides, I was still conscious, and that made it hard to sleep. I slipped upstairs, opened the padlocked door and went up to crash on the beanbag. At least there I didn’t have flashbacks of Lacy being in my bed. I was doing a pretty good job of falling asleep when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I stiffened, concerned it was the boys. I lumbered out of the chair and met her at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was looking for the bathroom?” she pretended. Melanie wasn’t stupid, but she was sneaky.
“Bathroom’s down that hallway. I’ll show you,” I told her as I followed her back down the stairs and walked her to the bathroom door. While she was inside I snapped the padlock shut on the upstairs door and waited at the top of the lower stairs until she came out.
She was in her underwear, if you could call it that. It consisted of a strip of fabric around her hips and a bra that tried to push up her flat chest and succeeded in exposing the topside of her nipples. I was just drunk enough that I told myself she was good-looking.
“You look rough,” she commented. “Why don’t you let me make you something to eat, maybe some eggs?”
I hadn’t eaten that night, so her suggestion sounded reasonable. Anyway, I could still feel pain, so it wasn’t time for bed quite yet. She followed me down to the kitchen, and it didn’t take her long to find the pan and get the carton of eggs from the fridge. She scrambled half a dozen and set them before me, making herself comfortable in the chair next to me. I picked up the fork and felt her hand on my leg. I tried to ignore it, but she was stroking my inner thigh, and I had to admit it felt good.
My willpower was at its lowest. “You gotta go to bed, Melanie,” I said in a voice husky from the need for sleep.
“I know, I’ll go up in a minute. Let me help you into your room. I’m not sure you can walk straight.”
I stood up and swayed, but was too far gone to argue with her. I crawled into my bed, having stripped my clothing to the floor. A few seconds later I felt a weight on the opposite side and her naked body was lying next to mine. She began kissing me, beginning with my shoulder and then sucking on my nipple. I could feel the urge rising, even in the molten, subdued world of my drunken brain. I made a halfhearted attempt to push her away. “Go up to your own bed, Melanie,” I told her again.
“I will, I will. Let me just make sure you get to sleep first.”
She continued kissing my skin, and my cock started doing its own thinking. The room was spinning, and yet it managed to stand up straight. I only know this because Melanie found it, spreading her legs wide and settling down upon it. Her hands were still on my nipples as she rocked back and forth on top of me. “Shhh… just lay there and let me do you. I know it’s been so long.”
“Nooooo… not with you, Melanie. Not with you, with her.”
“Just pretend I’m her. Except I’m even better.”
She began rocking faster, and even though I made a halfhearted attempt to roll out from under her, I couldn’t deny the sensations that were building below my waist. To hell with Lacy. She chose not to be here. I needed the release. I needed it badly.
***
I woke up with a sour taste in my mouth and the beer already shooting back up my esophagus again. I rolled from the bed and barely made it to the bathroom. When I came back there was someone in my bed. I squinted in the darkness—and then I remembered. “Melanie.”
“Are you okay? Can I get you something? A glass of water or milk?”
“Yeah, you can get me something, all right. Get out of my bed, please. Go to your own room or leave. I must’ve been out of my mind.”
She laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You can’t fool me,” she purred. “You wanted it, and you wanted it with me.”
“Melanie, this is all wrong. If you’re not going to leave, then I am.”
She held both hands up, palms facing me. “Okay, okay, we’ll do it your way. I’m getting dressed now and I’ll leave before the boys are up.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind was a niggling memory. “I thought your roommate locked you out?”
“I know where she keeps the key,” she said in a mocking voice and slid from the room.
It was noon before I could sit up without the urge to puke. The boys had managed to pour their own bowls of cereal and were watching a baseball game in the living room.
Jonas was staying with me, but the other two were leaving by the end of the week. They both had passed their birthdays, so it was just a matter of the court processing the paperwork and they’d be gone. I wanted to say that I’d miss them, and maybe under different circumstances with my personal life I could’ve said it and been honest. As it was, Jonas was enough for me. I had to face the fact that I just wasn’t cut out to be a one-man Boys Town. It was just too much responsibility, and there was no time left for me to have a personal life. I thought maybe I’d volunteer at a nearby Big Brother location instead—that was as much as I could handle. Lacy had really messed me up inside, and it would be a long time before I could trust a woman again.
“Man, you look really rough,” commented Jonas.
“Yeah, well, just stay out of my path, I’m warning you. I have a headache that won’t stop, and I’m liable to take a swing at anybody who gets in my way.” The three of them unconsciously leaned toward one another, perfectly satisfied to ignore me.
I left the house and drove down to the lake, watching the families with their children playing in the sand. Although it was hot out, I was cold inside. I got out and sat in the sand, digging my toes in, but the warmth wouldn’t penetrate. I had a vague memory of having spent the night with Melanie, and it pissed me off. I couldn’t exactly claim she’d taken advantage of me, I was a big boy, but I hadn’t fought her off. I felt like shit.
***
“What are you talking about?” I asked Melanie. She had confronted me in the yard where I was raking leaves. She stood with her feet planted wide and her hands on her hips.
“I said I’m going to have your baby.”
“Holy crap. Are you sure? I mean, come on Melanie, it was only one time and you were on top.”
“Hey, you’re the one with the big degree. Didn’t they teach you that your swimmers would find the egg regardless?”
“Are you sure it’s mine?”
She didn’t even look insulted. “I’m sure.”
“What do you want to do about it?”
“If you’re asking if I’m going to get an abortion, the answer is hell no. If you’re asking do I want to raise it alone, the answer is still hell no. If you’re asking me to marry you, as any decent man would when a woman’s carrying his child, the answer is hell yes.”
“Marry you?” It felt like the judge had just pronounced me guilty and sentenced me to life. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little? After all, the whole thing was your set up. It wasn’t my idea.”
“I didn’t see you fighting me,” she challenged.
“No, you’re right there. I was too drunk to challenge you. Look, you dropped a pretty big bomb on me right now. I’ll meet you at the state park tomorrow. You know my truck. We’ll sit by the lake and talk about what’s going to happen next.”
“If you want, but there’s nothing to talk about. I’ll bring my suitcase packed with me.” She spun on her heel and got back in her car. She tooted twice as she pulled away from the curb, and I fell to my knees in the pile of leaves and puked up my lunch.
How the hell had I gotten into this mess?
Three days later, Melanie and I were on a plane for Las Vegas. She wanted to get married in one of those little chapels, and I wanted to drink until I couldn’t stand up anymore and gamble away every penny I had. If I was lucky, the mob would take me out. We got off the plane and climbed into one of the hotel shuttles, perspiring in the overwhelming heat. I felt li
ke I couldn’t breathe, but Melanie looked happy and cool. We checked in and went up to the room, pulling out clothes. I headed into the shower and threw on a pair of black jeans and a white sport shirt with an open collar. I sure as hell wasn’t going to wear a tux.
When I came out, Melanie was wearing a white mini-dress with a layer of lace over the top. She looked a little disappointed at my outfit, but this was just about the survival of my psyche. When I’d preached to the boys about getting women in trouble, how the hell could I hold my head up if I let some woman have my baby without even giving it my name? I might be a bit low, but not that low.
“Let’s go get married first,” she encouraged me.
I shook my head. “No, I want to get a drink, maybe two or three beforehand. Melanie, sit down, I want to talk to you.”
She obliged and uncrossed her legs. I couldn’t help but note that she wasn’t wearing any panties. She wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
“You know I’m only marrying you because of the baby, right? You know that I don’t love you.”
“You will. I’ll grow on you.”
“I don’t want anything growing on me. I just want to be left alone. I’ll take care of the expenses for the baby, and I’m giving it my name, but that’s as far as I go. If you want to live at the big house with me, that’s fine, but don’t expect me to play loyal, loving husband. You know you trapped me into this, and that doesn’t deserve a reward.”
She didn’t look the least bit perturbed. This puzzled me—and then a cold chill went down my spine as a thought occurred to me.
“One more thing. I’m going to sit right here and wait for you. I want you to go down to the gift shop and buy one of those pregnancy tests. Bring it up here and I want to watch you take it.”
“What do you mean? Are you calling me a liar?”
“Why are you so nervous? I think that’s a little suspicious.”
“I’m too far along for one of those tests. They don’t work after four weeks.”
She spread her legs so I could clearly see her crotch. It suddenly became clear. She was lying. She wasn’t pregnant. She’d conned me into bringing her here, figuring that if we fucked enough over the weekend, she might get lucky and then have an “overdue delivery.” That’s why she wasn’t wearing panties. She had no intention of going down to the gambling floor.
I felt an anger surface and I knew that if I didn’t get away from her right then, I’d probably strangle her. “You’re not pregnant. You are a lying bitch, and this is all to get back at Lacy. You want whatever she has that you can’t get. Well, you’re not getting this guy.” I reached into my pocket and threw a hundred-dollar bill on the bed. “That’ll get you home. I don’t ever want to see your face again.”
I threw back in what things I’d unpacked, zipped the bag shut and left the room. It was odd how much cooler the air felt as the shuttle returned me to the airport. A few hours later, I was back at O’Hare and fit to be tied—literally.
I grabbed a cab and headed for the old neighborhood and the lacquered red doors that had kept me fascinated for so long. The cab let me out in front, into the midst of the usual cluster of painted ladies milling about on the sidewalk. I realized I didn’t know Red’s real name, so I fended off the grasping hands and asked to see the tall woman with red hair.
“Oh, that’s Beverly. She’s inside. She doesn’t come out here no more,” one of them told me. Evidently there was a code of ethics among whores—they didn’t poach one another’s johns. That saved cat fights and not-so-accidental poisonings inside the establishment, I supposed.
“Well, will you look who’s here,” she greeted me as I was shown inside.
“Hey, Red, how are you doing?”
“Never thought we’d see you around this neck of the woods again. What brings you back?”
“You’re not out front anymore?”
“Nah, got promoted. I’m the indoor whore now. I charge double and get my pick of the litter, so to speak. Strange, but out there, when I was cheaper by the hour, I had to fight for attention. In here, I charge more and now they all ask for me. I guess that’s called perception of value, wouldn’t you say, Doc?”
“You knew?”
“Sure. We don’t get many doctors around this place, even if they are psychologists. Well, not counting the doc who comes by once a week to check out the girls. We have to keep ourselves healthy, you know.” She wagged her finger. “Bad for business, otherwise.”
“I see,” I said, grinning. I felt better already. “Is she busy?”
“Damn! And here I thought you were coming for me.”
“She’s… well… different. No offense, Red.”
“None taken. Let me tell her you’re here. She won’t believe it, either.”
I waited in the hallway, and inspiration caused me to open the narrow cupboard and take out the deodorizing spray I knew I’d find there. I spritzed the room a little and put it back. When I closed the door, Red was standing behind it.
“Stink in here, does it?”
“No, not really. Just for old times’ sake.”
She nodded. “I see. Well, get your old timey ass down the hallway, because Butterfly is waiting.”
“Thanks. Oh, and Red, one more thing. Is this the same game you’re playing? Does she charge extra because she won’t see just anyone? Are you playing her game?”
“Her game? Hell, no. I don’t mess with that stuff. I guess you probably didn’t really get what goes on in there, but I don’t want no part of that shit. You go along now, before she gets tired of waiting—at least, if you know what’s good for you.”
Nodding, I sauntered down the hallway, hearing the sounds of sex in stereo as I passed the numbered doors. It entered my mind that they needed a few more cans of air freshener.
I rapped the knocker and the door swung open. Butterfly stood there, dressed in a black, cone-shaped bra and garter with stockings. She wasn’t wearing panties, but she did have a filmy, transparent black robe thrown over her undergarments. “Well, will you look what the whore dragged in,” she said in her husky voice.
“Hello, Butterfly. Wasn’t sure you’d remember me.” I walked past her into the room.
“Yeah, right. Despite what you might think, I don’t let many into my room, and I don’t get many that look like you or have your, shall we say, endowments.”
“Why, Butterfly, you make me blush.” I tried my hand at being coy. It made things more pleasant.
“So, what brings you here, Riker?”
“Came to see you. I probably don’t have to tell you this, but after being with you, anyone else is just boring.”
She laughed, and I assumed she was flattered. “I don’t make my living fucking, I make it teaching, didn’t you get that?” She gestured to an oversized, red-tufted ottoman that was pushed close to the ever-present fire. “Sit down.”
I did as I was told; I was going to let her be the dom. “Take off your shirt,” she ordered me, and I watched as she crossed the room to the wall of tools, pausing thoughtfully before she selected a short, cropped whip. She walked behind me, close enough that I could smell her musky perfume. Her energy changed, and she leaned over my shoulder, whispering in my ear. “This is what you came for?” she snapped, and then I felt the bite of the whip across my back. I jerked away and threw my head back, absorbing the pain and feeling the blood rush to my groin. I hadn’t forgotten the sensations, but it was different this time. She spanked me with the whip again and I flinched and tensed. She knew.
“Who is she?”
“Who?”
“Don’t bullshit me. I may not have known you very long, but I do know you very well. She some kind of social princess? Does her daddy have lots of money?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Ahh, but you don’t deny she exists.”
“No, I can’t deny her.”
“You wouldn’t be here if things were good between the two of you.” She slashed me with the whip again,
but this time there was anger in its bite. “Get out of here. You’re no good to me. Go home to the princess and fuck her hard. She’s lucky, and the disgusting part is she probably doesn’t even know it.”
I looked around at her, and she motioned with the whip.
“That’s twice you’ve bested me, Riker. Don’t come back again.” She swung around once again and disappeared behind the curtain.
There was nothing left for me to do but put my shirt back on. I didn’t insult her by leaving money. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of us that it wasn’t about money.
Red was waiting for me down the hall. “That was quick.”
“You take it easy, you hear?” I told her and kissed her on the cheek.
She grabbed my crotch and squeezed my balls. “Damn, what a waste.”
Chapter 21
Lacy
Justin wouldn’t sleep. I was trying to pace the floor with him quietly so as not to disturb Abby, who was sleeping below. It’d been a good day. I’d picked up two new customers, and they were both big ones. One was a local bed-and-breakfast; they wanted the entire place updated over the winter. We’d signed the contracts that afternoon and I’d heaved a sigh of relief. This time I wouldn’t have to worry about where the money for the winter bills would come from.
The other one was one more of Mrs. Pettibone’s referrals. I hadn’t been able to wean myself off quite yet, but I was well on my way.
My arrangement with Abby had worked out quite well. She was as genuine as she’d appeared that first day we’d met, and Justin adored her. When I wasn’t home with him, I was free to get out and call on clients. He had been the incentive I needed to get my mojo back, as they say.
The only part of my life that didn’t feel whole was that I missed Riker terribly. I’d taken a potential new client to lunch one day and overheard two women talking about him at the table behind us. It was tricky to give my sales presentation and listen to them at the same time, but I’d heard enough to get the gist. Apparently he and Melanie had gotten together and were going to get married. They’d gotten as far as Las Vegas, and then Riker had discovered that she was bluffing about being pregnant by him. The whole thing sounded sordid to me, and my heart ached. Melanie should’ve never been in the picture. That place had been reserved for me, and I’d been the one to give it up. I couldn’t blame Riker, because I’d brought it on myself.
