“And then?”
“And then I heard that a rich woman was opening up a pleasure house to cater to extremely wealthy clients, and knew that it was time to move on. I didn’t have to worry about housing or food. It was taken from my earnings, but was reasonable, you know? I could come and go as I pleased, as long as I stayed true to my commitments. I could even have a boyfriend as long as he wasn’t a client. That’s how I met Maxwell.”
Joseph cringed to hear that man’s name. I’ve never even met him. But he had broken Sylvia’s heart in one of the cruelest ways possible. Thinking about him made her cry in front of Joseph. That was enough to make him hate the bastard. “You really loved him, huh?”
“There were only two ways I would leave a job as cushy as that for a man. Either he promised me such a fortune that I would be set up for the rest of my life, or I genuinely fell in love with him. With Maxwell, it was both. He was my patron, not that it means anything to you.”
“I don’t mind hearing.” Yeah, I do, a little. Jealousy killed him every time Sylvia talked about these men who had used her for nothing but sex. He didn’t care that she was using them for money, or that she saw it as a job and nothing more. I can’t help it. It’s biological, right? Didn’t matter. She was with him right now. Right here with me. She had come to him. Demanded to see him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Whatever that meant in the long run didn’t matter. Right now? It was the rightest thing in the world.
“So a patron is the top client in your repertoire. Like a really fancy sugar daddy, but with more established boundaries. He pays you a stipend. Outside of a place like I worked, it would be enough to cover your rent and bills. Like a real job, you know? But in the Château, most of it went to the house, and I used the rest to buy stuff like better furniture for my room, fancier clothing, and higher quality makeup. Sometimes I bought fancy sex toys and bondage equipment. Stuff that I saw as an investment for making my clients happier and making more money. I was shortsighted, though. I should have saved more of it like my coworkers.” Sylvia rolled onto her back, eyes glazed over in memories of the past. “But when Maxwell asked me to marry him, I completely lost all sense of, well… sense.”
“So you did love him.”
“Did you love Angelica?”
What a snippy question. “Of course I did.”
“And I loved Maxwell. He made me feel special. He wasn’t bothered by my embarrassing quirks and always treated me kindly. He was handsome and decent in bed. God, and the money. A multimillionaire. All he asked of me was having kids someday. I was so enamored with him that I would’ve agreed to anything. Then it turned out he had promised to marry like five other women. When I confronted him… well, you know. Now I’m here.”
Joseph squeezed her shoulder. “You don’t want kids?”
“That feels like such a faraway thing.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“Why do you care?” Sylvia’s nose rubbed against his ear. “You thinking about putting a baby in me?”
Maybe. He had made a valiant attempt earlier, birth control or no. “I’ve always kinda wanted kids. Not a whole lot. One or two would make me happy. Three at the absolute most.”
“Aww, you think about that stuff.”
“Of course I do.” A lump formed in Joseph’s throat. “I could’ve been a father of two by now.”
Sylvia stiffened in his arms. “Oh, right. I almost forgot.”
I never forget. Even time didn’t allow Joseph to forget his two kids that never were. I lost Angelica the same amount of times because of it. They had briefly broken up more often than that over the years, but Joseph thought… ah, maybe it would’ve been different last time. “It’s hard. I’m not even carrying them, but I felt those losses as if a piece of me was ripped from my soul.” His hand shook against Sylvia’s shoulder. She squirmed, whimpering, until Joseph finally eased up. “Obviously it was even harder on Angelica. We blamed ourselves for everything. Begged doctors to tell us what we were doing wrong… what was wrong with us. But no matter how many tests we took, everything came out fine.” How could it be fine if they were going through so much heartbreak? “Finally her doctor told me that we might’ve shared a recessive gene that made it difficult to have viable pregnancies. Or maybe we were unlucky. I wanted to beat the shit out of him for suggesting that.”
“I’m sorry.”
God, he believed her. Sylvia didn’t know what he felt right now – even Joseph barely understood it after all these years – but she was sympathetic. She cares. Stella hadn’t cared. Whenever Joseph tried to open up to her, it was like talking to a vapid wall made of cheap bricks. She never cared. She only cared that Joseph was getting kinky like her and had a big wallet. The deepest their conversations got was talking about what to have for dinner. She never wanted to have Mexican. Said the only Hispanic anything she wanted inside of her was Joseph. Shit, I was so dumb. Dumb and rebounding.
“I could’ve had a five year old by now.” Joseph sighed. “Shit, I could’ve had a kid in middle school by now.” Would he still be where he was now, job wise? When he told his family that Angelica was pregnant, they first carved him out a new asshole for being a careless git and then took his girlfriend to give her a hearty talk. Whatever Juanita and Verónica told Angelica, it had made them closer. Up until her miscarriage, Angelica spent half her time outside of school at the Montoya house, being coddled and told stories of other pregnancies and certain secrets that Joseph wasn’t allowed to hear.
They were so excited when she got pregnant again. For all his other issues with the Montoyas regarding his (lack of an) inheritance, they made sure he was taken care of. That included his children as well.
Sylvia patted his abdomen. Joseph’s cock stirred to receive the indirect attention. Ow. His cock wanted to harden again. Not right now, c’mon. He didn’t doubt that Sylvia would do something about it if that happened. As nice as that would be, Joseph was kinda liking the intimate pillow talk happening between them. Do I have to hand in my Man Card if I admit that? Heaven forbid he actually like having post-coital talks with his girlfriend…
Ah, shit.
I thought of her as my girlfriend.
As if she read his cloudy mind, Sylvia asked, “So what does this mean for us?”
She had asked him that before, and he had promised they could have some sort of relationship. Then he left her. Abandoned her. Sylvia may have been a hardened soul for her young age, but she was still vulnerable in many ways. Joseph had shaken her trust. Damn, how would he get her to believe him when he said he still wanted to have something with her? “I like you, Sylv.”
The beauty in his bed propped herself up on her arm and gazed down into his softened visage. Joseph bent his knee and folded one arm beneath his head. Sylvia took this to mean she should rub the inside of his thigh and tease his cock with promises of more fun. “I like you too.” Her finger grazed his shaft. Exhausted pleasure jolted through Joseph’s loins. “Maybe one day we’ll be more than friends, hm?”
Was she asking him out?
“Sylvia.” He kissed her, not hard enough to knock her over, but certainly had enough to make her moan against his lips. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Take it slow, huh?”
“I suppose.”
She snuggled up against him. “I’m not getting any promises out of you yet.”
“Well…” Joseph wanted to make her his. This vivacious, sweet young woman deserved a man who would be true to her and loyal to a fault. I could be that man. She called him loyal, didn’t she? Some said that it was one of his greatest downfalls, if such a thing could be true. Once Joseph was in love with a woman, there were no others. He had always been true to Angelica when they were on as opposed to off. I never once thought to go out with another woman. Even Stella had his undivided attention during their tenure as boyfriend and girlfriend. “There would have to be concessions from the both of us to make a real relationship work, even if it’s more cas
ual at first.”
“You mean more serious than casual sex?”
“Yeah.”
“What would you concede to me?”
I’ll have to open myself up to a relationship, for one. His heart begged him to. It yearned for the sustenance of love, to experience that joy every time it was reminded of Sylvia. Sure beat the pain of thinking of his exes. “What is something I would have to do for you to call me yours?”
“Oh, you know me, Joseph.” She squeezed his cock while a grin froze her face. “I like to be taken care of. And I take care of my men in return. Really good.”
“Uh huh. I would get exclusivity, right?”
That grin disappeared. “I’m not gonna hook if I’m in a serious relationship, for fuck’s sake.” She released his cock and placed her palm on his stomach. “Not like I love it. It’s a job, like stripping at Decades.”
“Speaking of…”
“Like I said, I still got bills to pay. Stripping is so tame compared to what else I do. I think it’s fair as long as I don’t touch.”
“Don’t you have to touch sometimes?”
“Not legally.”
Please. Joseph knew what happened in strip clubs, especially in some of Portland’s seedier (in every sense of the word) joints. Men got grabby. Women were pressured to do full-service work by both the clients and the management. I mean, we briefly investigated her place of work. Turned out there was no merit to the so-called connection between Decades and Alexander Sheen, but Joseph had seen enough there to know it wasn’t the best place for his girlfriend to work.
His girlfriend. That was already getting too comfortable to say.
“All right. Anything considered legal work is fine. Besides, can’t exactly have my girlfriend possibly getting arrested, even if it does mean we get to meet at my place of work more often.” That sounded funnier in his head.
“You’re sure?”
“You do what you want, Sylv.”
“Baby,” she said, her little finger tickling his cheek. “I want to make you a happy man. You be my sugar daddy, I’ll be your baby…”
Joseph’s brows involuntarily furrowed. “I can’t tell if you’re being cute or not.”
“If I ever stop being cute, then you’ll know there’s something wrong me.” She draped herself across his body, the sheet finally falling away from her chest. Shiiit, she has the most gorgeous breasts. They hung comfortably from her chest, two perfectly pink nipples crowning equally pink areolas. Joseph had to restrain himself from grabbing and sucking them. “That’s the deal, man. I’m happy to work and earn my own financial keep, but I don’t want the stress of not knowing how I’m going to pay my rent or eat, you know? That’s why my perfect boyfriend is willing to spoil me with his pocketbook. Let me tell you, I’ve got some standards…”
“I know all about your standards. You hit me in the wallet when I had to pay for your makeover.”
“Which you’ve never complained about.”
“No.” He strung his fingers through her short and delightfully frizzy hair. Her happy smile made him happy too. “I sure haven’t. I don’t see anything to complain about. Ever.”
“Aw.” Sylvia curled against him again.
“What would you do, if you could have any job in the world?”
A sigh caressed his skin. “Don’t know. I’ve thought about it a lot, but in this economy I take what I can get, which isn’t exactly life-affirming. But if I could do anything… I like fashion, I like vintage stuff, I like being my own boss… ah, I’d probably do something like open my own resale shop.”
“This is the town for it.” A person couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a vintage boutique. They must get good enough business to stay open. Who was buying that stuff, anyway? The hipsters? Tourists? Touristy hipsters? Joseph preferred his things modern. But for someone like Sylvia, who had impeccable taste? I’ve seen her room… He was open to some redesigning.
He could also think of an easy way for her to save on rent, but he wasn’t going to broach that topic yet.
“I really love classic architecture, too, especially Victorian and pre-war. Man, I’d kill to live in a renovated Victorian house. Hm, I could go into real estate.”
That was a nose-wrinkling thought. “You know what you’re good at? You really know how to relate to disadvantaged people. You could go into advocacy.”
“Use my boyfriend’s money to open up a few charities, yeah.”
“You jest, but…” Joseph was already getting ideas. “Both of my parents are good people, I like to think, but they’re still rich assholes.” Always hard to remember about his mother… until he went to her stone mansion up in Washington Park. Genevieve Stone came off as a no-nonsense middle class woman at work, but she was still a privileged lady from birth. Having me stopped any thoughts her parents had of marrying her off. Sometimes Joseph wondered if her mother got pregnant with a random fling on purpose. She would plan something like that. “They’re always looking for seemingly altruistic ways to get tax write-offs. Especially my father. I bet if we approached them with detailed proposals, they would help fund a charity enough to at least get it off the ground.”
“We, huh?” Sylvia chuckled. “Besides, that’s hard work. I lived with both of my brothers for half of my life. It takes a lot out of you.”
“Just a suggestion.” Joseph repositioned himself to alleviate a cramp in his leg. “Tell me about your brothers.”
“What is there to say? One is schizophrenic, and the other has Down’s. It was normal to me growing up. Stressful at times, but normal. You quickly learn how to adapt and relate to people who aren’t as neurotypical as you. Most people can’t be bothered.”
That was certainly true of a lot of people Joseph knew. “I’d like to meet your family sometime.”
“Will have to depend on the day. My older brother unfortunately has a ‘friend’ who occasionally lives with him that likes to parrot shit about anyone who isn’t, let’s say, the whitest of the white…”
“And by friend you mean…”
“In his head, yes. Rather heartbreaking to watch him argue with that one.”
“All right then.” So maybe they wouldn’t be having Christmas dinner together.
Sylvia kissed his skin. “My mother would like you. Do you think your family would like me?”
After they get the Spanish insults out of their systems? Joseph’s girlfriends – who weren’t from his cultural background, anyway – had difficulties getting over that part of his family’s dynamic. “If they think I’m in love with you and that you genuinely love me, they’ll be over the moon. And then make you fat.”
“I thought you said you guys don’t always sit around eating?”
“Who said they make you fat from eating? These are the Montoyas I’m talking about. They’re forcing you to sit on your ass to watch telenovelas.” The only thing Verónica and her mother-in-law truly bonded over. “You’ll love the hero of Casa del Noche Bella. He looks like me and fucks everything that moves. Made me a hot ticket at the neighborhood block parties two summers ago.”
“I wanna go to a block party. Do you dance?”
“I take tango lessons every other week.”
“You take… oh my God!” Sylvia hopped on her knees, breasts bouncing right above Joseph’s face. Well, if I have to die, this is a good way to do it? “I wanna tango with you!”
He snatched her off her knees and slammed her against the bed, his body overpowering hers with a renewed urge to make love. Every time she gets excited, I only want her more. She had such a vivacious energy to her that it was impossible to not get carried away on the winds of Sylvia’s desires. “You can tango with me right now.” He searched for any sign of slickness on her thighs. How quickly could they go again? His cock was pretty ready right now!
Although she giggled, Sylvia pushed against his shoulders, to force him to sit up high enough to look her in the eyes. While she spoke, Joseph gently guided his legs between hers, his har
dening cock eager to be inside of her again. She’s feels so damn good in there. Warm, tight, comfortable. The perfect kind of place for Joseph to take up residence in.
“Are we good?” she asked, the hope in her voice leaving Joseph absolutely besotted.
“We’re so good that I’m not letting you leave my bed until I’m sure you’ve been properly taken care of.”
More giggles. Joseph loved a woman who could softly giggle like that. “I wanna be your girlfriend, Joseph.”
Just so happened he wanted her to be his girlfriend.
***
Fall was in the air Sunday morning. Joseph rose early, having gone to sleep even earlier. When he saw the cold sunlight cresting the Willamette River, he was inspired to put on his gym clothes and go out for a hard run.
Running was his workout of preference. Most days a friend could find him kicking up the dust along the river, in a nearby park, or driving up to the trails for the sake of running. On a day off, he would run to those trails and make a day of it. He was one of those guys who found it the perfect way to clear his head after a tough week at work. A great way to readjust his attitude before work, or, hell, even before a date.
Rock music played in his earbuds with his phone tucked safely in his sweatshirt pocket. An app on that same phone tracked his speed and steps. The only thing it couldn’t do was give him water when he needed it, but Portland was such a runner friendly city that he knew where on his route he could find drinking fountains or cafes kind enough to leave water out for the homeless and pedestrians alike.
Damaged Goods Page 30
