by Lila Dubois
“Hello?” Margo chirped in her ear.
“Okay, now it’s all three of us,” Lena said unnecessarily. “Jane, tell Margo what you just told me.”
Jane picked up her bucket of cleaning implements and headed for the bathroom. “Okay, here’s what happened. I realized that part of my trepidation about sleeping with Michael was the trust issue, so we made a deal…”
Meanwhile across town
“I have to show her my monster form,” Michael said, popping the cap off his third bottle of Corona and squeezing a lime into it.
“You agreed to that?” Luke asked, stuffing a loaded nacho chip in his mouth.
“Are you okay with that?” Henry asked, picking the jalapeños off the top of his enchilada.
“No, I’m not okay with it, but listen to the rest of the deal. In exchange, Jane’s agreed to let me teach her about passion.”
“So you finally get to have sex with her.”
“No, there’s no sex.”
“I’m confused.”
Michael grinned, and it was not friendly. He still couldn’t believe the sweet deal he’d worked out. “I can touch her, I can ask her to do anything, can do anything to her but have sex with her. The only rule is I have to stop if she doesn’t like something.”
“You mean if she doesn’t want to do something.”
“No,” Michael said, stealing one of Luke’s nachos, “only if she doesn’t like it.”
Henry shook his head. “She’s fucked.”
“Not literally,” Michael said, leaning back and smiling. This was going to be fun.
Back at the bat cave
“So, you see it’s the perfect deal. He gets a week to do whatever sexy things he wants with me, as long as it’s not actual sex, and if I don’t like it he has to stop.”
Jane blew her bangs off her forehead and sat up. She’d been bent over the tub cleaning it as she told her friends about her plan.
“Oh shit,” Margo whispered.
“Jane…this is bad,” Lena added, voice grim.
“What? What are you two talking about? What’s wrong?”
“Go over it again, the part about what happens if you don’t like something.”
“Michael said that if something he did wasn’t bringing me pleasure he would stop.”
“You’re so screwed,” Margo moaned.
“Shut up! I am not. Am I? Lena?”
“Jane, honey, I need to explain some things about sex…”
“You know what? I’m tired of everyone talking about me as if I were some dumb virgin. I’ve had sex before, I’ve had lots of sex before. So what if I don’t own three sizes of strap-ons, that doesn’t make me some kind of prude. I know about kinky sex, I wrote that screenplay with a BDSM theme. So you two can just knock it off.”
“Honey, we didn’t mean it like that,” Lena soothed. “I just think he may have…”
“Taken advantage of you,” Margo said. Unlike Lena her voice held no soothing tones. “Wake up, Jane. Can’t you see what you agreed to? I think it’s pretty clear that Michael’s had more sex that you, possibly a lot more.”
“And he’s had sex with succubi,” Lena added, almost apologetically.
“What?” Jane and Margo both screeched.
“Did I forget to mention that? Luke told me that since there aren’t very many female monsters they hook up with succubi.”
“Damn…”
“Exactly.”
Jane put down her scrubbing gloves and knee-walked out of the bathroom. She flopped down on the living room floor and practiced her yoga breathing.
“Jane, are you still there?”
“I’m yoga breathing.”
“Yoga breathing isn’t going to help the fact that you just agreed to let a man who could probably make a chair leg have multiple orgasms do whatever he wants with you.”
“It seemed like a fair deal. I figured if it got to be too much I would just stop liking it.”
“You can’t just stop liking something that feels so good you forget your own name as you orgasm over and over and over…”
“What you’re doing right now is the opposite of help.”
“Sorry, but it’s true,” Margo said, sounding less than sincerely sorry. “You’re doomed, kid. You get turned on when a good song comes on the radio, never mind having a skilled dude touching you in all the right places. He’s going to play you like a violin.”
“It’s never been like that before,” she protested. “Before all I had to do was stop thinking sexy things for a minute and the arousal would go away.”
“You shouldn’t have to think about sexy stuff, you shouldn’t have to think at all. You’re problem is you date the nice guys. The nice guys are only worth it if they’re freaks in the sack. Closeted freaky nice guys are some good shit, but probably not as good as Michael’s going to be.”
“Oh God. Lena?” Jane said piteously, hoping for a few words of encouragement.
“Huh? Sorry. Luke and I experimented with ice last night. All the sex talk made me remember it. God that was good.”
“I’m doomed,” Jane moaned.
“Yep, you are. Take notes will you? I want a full report, with details, when he’s done with you.”
Chapter Ten
EXT. LOS ANGELES — SKID ROW
The BLACK SPORTS CAR cruises down a street whose sidewalks are lined in tents. The tent’s owners are busy setting up their sleeping arrangements.
The car turns left into an ALLEY.
A homeless WOMAN walks to the alley and peers down it. There is no sign of the car.
The doorbell rang. Jane screamed.
Pressing her hand against her chest, Jane took a few deep breaths. This was going to be okay. She knew Michael, sure he was sexy, and maybe a bit pushy, but he wasn’t some sort of sex god. She could handle what was about to happen. He’d finger her a few times, she’d have a couple orgasms, and at the end of the week she’d face his monster form.
It really didn’t help that she was terrified of seeing him as a monster. It would have been much better if the week ended in something she was really looking forward to.
Jane smoothed her hooded sweatshirt, realized it was wrinkled and ugly beyond all hope, and gave up. She was wearing a battered USC football sweatshirt, pink and gray Eeyore pajama pants and footie socks, the kind with grip tape on the bottom.
Childish? Yes. Semi-pathetic? Absolutely. But this hideous ensemble was the closest thing to a chastity belt Jane could come up with. Besides, it was comfortable.
Brushing aside her bangs, Jane opened the door.
Michael, tan, blond and gorgeous in gray slacks and a white linen shirt, stood outside her door, a duffle slung over his shoulder.
He looked her up and down, and then burst out laughing.
“Knock it off,” Jane said lightly, the corner of her mouth twitching as his booming laugh filled the hallway. Michael looked at her again, leaned against the wall and kept laughing.
Jane stuck her hands in the kangaroo pocket on the front of her sweatshirt and humphed. “Laugh it up, buddy.”
“You are,” he gasped, sputtered a laugh and choked out, “adorable.”
He walked in, cupped her face and kissed her. It was a soft hello kiss, and Jane licked her lips when it ended, wanting another but afraid to say so. The last thing she wanted was to push them into having not-sex before she was ready.
“You can put your bag in…uh…my bedroom.”
She led Michael through the living room to the bedroom. He set his bag down by the door and looked around.
“This is not what I expected,” he said after a minute.
“What did you expect?”
“Something more…girlie.”
Jane looked at her room with a critical eye. It was girlie, but not in a pink ruffles way. The walls were a deep taupe that set off everything else in the room. Her mahogany sleigh bed was covered in a pale gold comforter and accented with cobalt, emerald and ruby pillows, purchased
on a trip to India. She had a gold-tone rug laid out beside the bed, and a dark wood buffet acting as a display space and dresser, with her books hidden in the drawers.
“I got the pillows on a trip to India, they were the inspiration for the room. It can be a bit overpowering, that’s why I don’t have too much furniture in here. Then again that makes the living room a bit cluttered, but what can you do? It’s not the world’s biggest apartment, but I got it right when we’d started Calypso Productions and none of us had any money. I could move to a nicer place, but I hate moving. So I decided—”
Jane could hear herself babbling, and would have given considerable amounts of money to stop, but she couldn’t help it. She was nervous, and Michael’s presence in her bedroom was making her more nervous. He’d been in her apartment before, when he’d come to protect her, but her bedroom had been strictly off-limits.
Michael ended her wandering monologue by picking her up and throwing her, actually throwing her, onto the bed. Jane made a sound best approximated as eep as she landed, pillows bouncing around her.
Michael leaned against the footboard.
“Can I ask what that was for?” Jane said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.
“I just wanted to get an idea of how you’d look on that bed.”
Jane leapt off the bed and tugged at her sweatshirt, a blush heating her face. “Let’s go in the other room.”
She led Michael into the living room, where she curled up on the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees. The open bedroom door taunted her, reminding her of what was going to happen.
“You’re nervous, why?” Michael asked, sitting and stretching his arms along the back of the couch so he could toy with her hair.
“Sex is something to be nervous about.”
“But we’re not having sex, remember?”
“Yes, well, I uh, hadn’t really through this all the way through when I agreed. Is there any chance you want to renegotiate the deal?”
She looked at him hopefully, but Michael’s smile was not encouraging. “Sounds like Lena talked to you.”
“How did you know?”
“I was with Luke when she called to talk to him about it. Sounds like Lena may have gotten you a little wound up about this.”
“I just… I mean, I didn’t think it was really going to be a big deal.”
“Didn’t you just say sex was something to be nervous about?”
“It is, but sex isn’t…earth-shattering, it doesn’t change you.”
“If you believe that, you’ve never had really good sex before.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Maybe I could promise to go easy on you. Promise not to push you, or play games with you.”
“Will you?”
“Absolutely not. I’m going to push you, pleasure you in ways you couldn’t even imagine, ways no human woman has been pleasured before. Lena may have told you stories about what Luke’s done with her, to her. He’s an amateur compared to me.”
Jane felt the blood drain from her face even as her fingertips started to tingle.
“Michael, I-I…”
“Don’t be scared.” He curled a lock of her hair around his finger, pulling it taut. “Remember, if you don’t like it, if you aren’t finding something pleasurable, I’ll stop.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re going to do first, and then I’ll tell you if I’ll like it.”
“No, my sweet Jane, my Sleeping Beauty. That won’t work, because you don’t know what you’ll like.”
“Arrogant jerk.”
“Name-calling will only get you in trouble.”
Jane swallowed a shiver at his words. She wanted to find his arrogance disgusting. She really didn’t like cocky, arrogant men. They were normally just talk, no action and more interested in themselves than in her.
But Michael was different. With him she felt that the interest was genuine, even if it wasn’t the sort of romantic relationship-oriented interest she’d like to have in her life. He seemed…fascinated by her. The same way she was fascinated, and frightened, by him. Even if there wasn’t a clear attraction between them, Jane might have taken him up on his offer of nostrings, wall-thumping, good sex. She’d had her share of sex, and her share of partners, but nothing really toe-curling spectacular. She would have dismissed stories of sex so good it caused you to forget your own name, but her friends all swore it existed, and wasn’t some urban myth.
But for now she was sitting next to the most attractive man she’d ever been intimate with, even if that intimacy had yet to occur.
“Do you want to get some dinner?” she asked. “We could go out.”
“And have you change out of that delightful ensemble? No, let’s order in.”
Jane retrieved her menus from a drawer in the kitchen and passed them over to Michael, who started separating them into stacks.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorting out the ones I’ve never eaten at before.”
When he was done, the “already eaten there” stack was far bigger than the other.
“How often do you and Henry order in?”
“Every night.”
“Michael! Don’t you know how to cook?”
“No, not human food, not in a human kitchen. Before we moved to the condo we were eating nasty packaged food, always cold. Hot food that actually tastes good is much better.”
“Of course it is, but you need to learn to cook.”
“You’ll teach me?”
“Of course.” Jane smiled in relief. Cooking was a homey, non-sexy activity.
“Then I’ll add cooking to the list.” He selected a menu, a nice Thai place, and passed it to her. “I don’t know what’s good, so you order.”
Having been warned about Michael’s monstrous—ha!—appetite by Lena, Jane ordered three entrees and starters along with some Thai iced teas.
Hanging up the phone, Jane sternly lectured herself to calm down, they were just friends, friends who were having a casual night in, friends who would soon see each other naked. Jane gulped and stuttered out, “That’ll be about forty minutes, do you want to…uh…watch some TV until it comes?”
Michael just stared at her. Jane realized she’d pulled her hands into her sweatshirt sleeves and was nervously playing with the cuffs. She cleared her throat and stopped fidgeting.
“That’s a good idea,” Michael said slowly, “let’s watch some TV.”
Jane smiled in relief, knowing she was safe at least until after they’d eaten, and opened the cupboard the TV sat on, revealing rows of DVDs. “I have a bunch of box sets of TV shows, is there anything you’d like to see?”
Michael dropped to one knee beside her, setting his hand casually on the back of her neck, kneading it, as he looked over the selection.
“What about this one?” He said, pointing to the first season of a ridiculously complex drama that was now into its fourth season. It was complicated, entertaining and very engaging. More than likely they would get so wrapped up in it they’d watch the whole season, pass out at four in the morning, and be too tired to do anything but sleep. Perfect.
“I love this show, good choice.”
Jane put the first disk into the DVD player and they settled in to watch. Halfway through the first episode, the food came, and Jane barely remembered signing the check.
“What the hell is that human’s problem?” Michael demanded, pointing at the screen.
“You’ll have to wait and see, there’s an explanation for it.”
“Explanation or not, I don’t like this guy. He’s up to something. And there is something wrong with that forest. It’s like the forests that monsters used to live in.”
Michael’s offhand comment ripped Jane’s attention away from the screen. Her storyteller spidey-senses were tingling.
“Really? In what way? What forests, where were they?”
Michael ignored her for a moment as the characters talked, then distractedly said, “
Europe. That’s where my Breed is from. There were normal forests, what you would think of as forests, but then there were other forests, full of creatures that are now gone, dead like we will be.”
He spoke matter-of-fact, distracted by the TV, and his seeming acceptance of the fact that his race was doomed broke Jane’s heart.
“What creatures are extinct?”
“Fairies, centaurs, tree wolves. There are more, but I try not to think about it. Those races could only live in those forests, and once the forests were gone the creatures that depended on them died. At least we, the monsters, could move and adapt to new places.”
“What made these forests special?”
“They grew in the places where magic came up from the Earth’s core. They were like magical volcanoes. Wherever there was a direct path of power from the center of the Earth to the surface one of these forests would grow.”
Jane’s fingers twitched with the need to make notes, but she was afraid to move and break the spell of confession. Michael wasn’t guarding his words as he normally did. His attention still on the TV.
“What happened to the forests, why did they disappear? Is the magic gone?”
“Gone? No. It’s trapped, deep inside the Earth. The forests were cut down, again and again, and finally paved over, or turned to crops. The humans knew these places were special because everything grew well there, and people who lived there were healthy. But through their selfish, stupid actions, humans killed the forests, and the magic stopped flowing. Now it’s all bottled up in the center of the Earth. That’s probably why humans can’t use magic anymore either.”
“Humans could use magic? What kind, how—”
“Look at that! I knew that was a bad idea!” Michael shouted at the screen. He stabbed his fork into a basil noodle and ate it, chewing rapidly. “I bet the guns stop working.”
Jane bit her lips to hold in a frustrated growl. What a terrible place to lose the thread of that conversation. The mood was gone, and as the story lulled, Michael turned to her and smiled, offering up a basil noodle. She took the offering and smiled, acting casual so he wouldn’t close up. She’d bide her time for now, and besides, with only a few sentences he’d given her plenty to consider.
