by Bonnie Dee
“Monica,” he breathed and continued to hold her gaze as he pumped into her until at the very end, his eyes closed. He groaned and shuddered as he came.
Monica collapsed on top of him, resting her head on his chest and listening to his heart pounding beneath her ear. She licked the salt from his skin and ran her hand up his arm, stopping to trace the blue swirls of the tribal tattoo that banded his swelling biceps.
He held her and stroked his hand down her back for a few moments before gently laying her aside. He removed the used condom then lay beside her. They stared at the starless sky in blissful silence.
“Is there anything we haven’t done--sexually--that you’d like to try?” he asked after a while. “Some secret fantasy? I’m up for it. I’ll do anything you want.”
“No. Nothing really.” A glimpse of one of her favorite erotic fantasies flashed in her mind.
He turned his head and looked at her. “You do have a wish. What is it?”
“It’s embarrassing is what it is.”
“Come on.” He turned onto his side, head on hand. “You don’t want me to have to start tickling do you? You’ll wake the neighbors with your screaming which would really be embarrassing.” When she still hesitated, he repeated, “You can tell me. Whatever it is I’m not going to be shocked.”
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be in a threesome.” She half-swallowed the last word.
“Everybody fantasizes about threesomes. You shouldn’t feel weird about it. A threesome with two guys or a guy and a girl?”
“Two guys. At once. With, uh, me.”
He was silent a moment then said, “I could arrange that if you want it.”
“I don’t. It’s only a fantasy. I would never really do that.”
“Why not? You should try it if that’s what you’re into.”
“I couldn’t.”
“I’ll introduce you to Travis. You’ll like him. It will give you a chance to meet someone new and I’ll be there to make sure you’re comfortable. If you decide you don’t want it to go any farther, that’s it. He goes home.”
Ryan seemed to forget she couldn’t afford to fork out what might be over a thousand dollars to fulfill a fantasy. One escort was expensive enough and Ryan was worth every penny, but she dreaded seeing her credit card bill at the end of the month.
“You think about it.” He took her hand and rubbed his thumb against the side of her palm. “But if it helps financially, I wouldn’t charge you for my, ah, services. I’d be there in an assistant capacity.”
Monica turned her head to look at him. “You’d do that?”
“I want to make sure you aren’t nervous or uncomfortable with someone new.”
Besides which, he didn’t want her to be attached to only him. Was she that obvious? She had to guard against her feelings showing or he’d think she was a needy, love-starved woman who couldn’t tell the difference between lust and love.
“All right,” she said lightly. “I’d like to try that. Maybe next week. But you don’t have to waive your payment. I can cover it.” Finances be damned, she must let him know she realized this was strictly business.
“Okay. I’ll contact Travis and set something up.” Ryan said after a brief pause.
Monica bit her bottom lip and stared at the sky again. For a moment there was a break in the clouds and a sliver of moon shone through. It was beautiful and she would have pointed it out to Ryan, but suddenly he felt like a stranger to her. She’d been play-acting they were a happy couple, but he really was hired help, like the dishwasher repair guy or the plumber. How could she keep forgetting that?
So, fine, she would enjoy one more secret fantasy and then she would put an end to all this craziness and resume her normal life. She had it all under control.
Chapter Nine
Ryan drove a nail into the wood with several hard blows of the hammer. He was glad to be working with a real hammer and not a nail gun as he inhaled the scent of wood and mentally thanked George Wilkie for putting him on his crew. It felt good to be working with his hands again in a manly way, not in the bedroom. Sex should be for recreation or to express love. Having it become work had been just plain wrong. It was a mistake he’d never make again.
Except for one last time with Monica, although she didn’t know he wasn’t actually accepting payment. He pulled another nail from the pouch and drove it in hard. This was a Catch-22 situation. If he hadn’t become a whore he’d never have met Monica, but because he’d been her whore, he couldn’t ask her out on a normal a date. She didn’t see him that way. He’d thought that was pretty clear in her attitude the other night.
He remembered his promise to fix her trellis and thought that maybe after this next sexcapade was over he could use that as an excuse to go to her house in a non-sex-related capacity. Would that be too obvious? Would she be able to tell he cared?
Damn! He was crushing on her again. He needed to participate in this threesome for his own good, to see Monica with another man and remind himself it was all about sex and he was replaceable.
Ryan shook his head to clear the thoughts of Monica and breathed in a deep lungful of the fresh spring air. It was a beautiful day. He was outdoors in the sunshine, working hard, sweating and enjoying creating something permanent with his hands. He was between semesters so he didn’t have to worry about studying and according to the call he’d received from Rose Arbor, Gram was doing much better. Even his Jeep was running well for a change. Agonizing over sex and love and if onlys wasn’t an option on such a perfect day. Tim was right, he had to stop his chronic worrying.
He lifted his hammer and drove in another nail.
*
“Monica, remember how much fun we used to have playing at Barb’s house when she babysat us?” Lisa braked at a stop sign and glanced over at Monica in the passenger seat. She hadn’t stopped reminiscing since picking up Monica to take her to the bridal shower.
Monica was well aware her sister was chattering to try to distract her from getting caught up in worries and perhaps spiraling off into a panic attack at the idea of facing a roomful of people.
“She’d let us play with her Barbies that were packed away in the basement,” Lisa continued. “I remember wondering how she could possibly be ‘too old’ to want to play with them anymore. She had such a fantastic collection of clothes plus all the cool accessories.”
“The Corvette, the Dream House, the speed boat and Barbie’s Tropical Vacation Cabana,” Monica remembered. “Oh how I loved that Cabana.”
“And the Cabana Boy. Remember?” Lisa laughed. “We made the best looking Ken be the Cabana Boy Barbie fell in love with while vacationing with her dull fiancé, Fred.”
Monica joined in her laughter. “God, yes. Cabana Ken. Only he wasn’t really a Ken doll but some Disney prince. He was so hot.”
Her spirits lifted. It was a beautiful spring day. She was with her sister on the way to a party yet felt no trace of anxiety brewing. That was fantastic. She was fantastic. The world was fantastic. And in another handful of hours she’d be having fantastic sex with not one but two fantastic looking guys. Could life be any more fantastic?
When she’d confirmed the day and time with Ryan, Monica had wondered if maybe she wasn’t planning a little too much activity for one day, but she’d shrugged off her doubts and made the date anyway. Right now she didn’t foresee any trouble. She felt as if she could handle anything.
Lisa turned into Aunt Helen’s driveway behind a long line of parked cars. Monica took a deep, calming breath then opened the door and stepped out. So far so good.
At the front door, their aunt greeted them with an air kiss to each cheek. The noise from the living room assaulted Monica, but didn’t make one dent in her shield. It was just a lot of happy, chattering women. No reason to get nervous. Good heavens, she’d had sex with a stranger—what could be more out of the comfort zone than that?
Aunt Helen directed them toward the gift table and the buffet table
where hors d'oeuvres were available, then bustled off to her next task.
Lisa leaned in to ask Monica if she was doing okay and Monica glared. “I’m not an invalid. Stop it.”
As they entered the living room, they were confronted by a circle of women chattering at top volume. Monica felt a flutter in her stomach as the noise level dropped and everyone turned to observe the new arrivals.
“Sweetheart, you made it!” Monica’s mom rose and came at her with arms outstretched. Monica hadn’t confirmed she was coming in case she chose to bail at the last minute. “I’m so glad.” She enfolded Monica in her arms.
“Mony, Mony!” Barb also rose and came to welcome Monica. The pet name recalled childhood days when Barb had put on Billy Idol and danced with Lisa and Monica around the living room. “I had no idea you’d be here. Thank you so much for coming. Everyone,” she announced, “these are my cousins, Lisa and Monica.”
She turned back to them. “We’ll have a name game soon so I won’t try to tell you all of Alex’s aunts’ and cousins’ names.”
Games. Oh goody.
Barb led Monica over to sit near her. She squeezed her hand and winked at her before sitting down on her crepe paper-draped chair of honor.
The women resumed their interrupted conversations and the noise level crept up enveloping Monica in a solid wall of sound. Okay. This wasn’t so bad. She could do this. All she had to do was sit and smile, make occasional small talk then Lisa would drop her off at home.
But, God, the room seemed warm and the voices all sounded like one loud buzzing hive of bees. Her ears were ringing and she realized she was breathing too fast and shallow. She concentrated on slowing down her respiration and missed whatever Barb had said to her.
“Pardon me?”
“I was wondering if you think you’ll make it to the wedding now that you’re out and about again.”
“I’ll try.” Monica was having a hard time concentrating on Barb’s words. The voices around her seemed overly loud and a high-pitched whining filled her ears.
Aunt Helen swept in and started the games. They were supposed to go around the room and introduce themselves by their name and relationship to Barb then tell something unusual or interesting about themselves to act as a reminder. Afterward they’d each be called on to recall a name and fact about one of the other people at the party. The repetition was supposed to help them get to know one another.
Monica thought, Hi. I’m Monica, Barb’s cousin, and I recently enacted a rape scenario with a paid escort I found on the Internet.
Since she was to Barb’s right, Monica actually was first. “Hi. I’m Barb’s cousin, Monica, and I’m a freelance writer.” It was a lot less memorable than what she’d been thinking, but it would have to do. Looking around at the women’s faces, she wondered how many of them had secrets they’d never admit to.
After everyone had introduced herself, numbers were assigned and chosen so each woman could re-introduce another at random. “This is Kristy, Alex’s second cousin, and she once won a baking contest. That’s Alexa, Alex’s mom and she’s terrified of snakes.”
It was a silly game, harmless and fun. Everyone laughed together when someone drew a blank and couldn’t remember a name or factoid. So why was Monica’s heart beating faster in anticipation of being called on? It was ridiculous. There was nothing to fear here other than some light teasing if she messed up. Why was her pulse beginning to race? She despised how her body betrayed her when her mind was being perfectly logical.
“Twelve,” Alex’s mom, a blond woman with hair teased into a bouffant and shellacked into place with hairspray, pointed at Monica. “She is Monica, Barb’s cousin, the writer.” Everyone murmured and smiled. Party games were just so damn much fun.
Monica’s smile was frozen on her face. She blinked her eyes to clear them of the fog creeping in at the edges and took a deep breath. She looked at the number she’d been given. “Three is Sylvia? No, Sybil, a friend from Barb’s work, who used to date Alex and set Barb and Alex up for their first blind date.”
The guests roared with laughter at that one. Everyone’s attention swept on, away from Monica, and yet her symptoms lingered. There was simply too much here. Too much noise. Too much hearty laughter. Too much estrogen altogether.
Monica rose and made her circuitous way behind the chairs and out of the room. She went into the hall bathroom and closed the door behind her, shutting out the cacophony.
After splashing cold water on her face, she looked at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. You can do this. Smile, nod, eat tiny sandwiches and cake, go home again. No racing heart, no shortness of breath. Just a normal afternoon at a bridal shower. You can be like everyone else.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Monica? You okay?” Lisa asked.
She patted her face dry and opened the door. “Peeing. Is that allowed?” she snapped, knowing Lisa didn’t deserve her shortness, but unable to stop being annoyed.
“You looked kind of pale. Do you want to leave now?”
“Without having a piece of cake? I don’t think so.” Monica forced a smile. “Seriously, I’m good. I’ll let you know if I need to leave.”
Together they returned to the living room but Monica got no farther than the archway before she began to feel dizzy. She rested a hand against the wall to get her balance and forced her mind to the safe spot Dr. Brewer had helped her create for herself. She breathed slowly, while the noise around her seemed to go up and up in pitch and volume until her head was filled with the assaulting clamor.
“Now,” she whispered to Lisa. “I need to get out now.”
“Okay. I’ll say goodbye to Barb from both of us. Can you make it to the car by yourself?”
Monica nodded then turned and walked toward the foyer, still with a steadying hand on the wall. She imagined Lisa explaining the situation to Barb and figured by the time the party was over everyone would know about poor Monica’s “condition” and think how sad it was such a nice young woman had imprisoned herself, too fearful to live her life. Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked to clear them.
Once she made it through the front door, Monica was suddenly frozen on the doorstep. The day was as glorious and sunny as it had been earlier when they’d walked from the car to the house, but she couldn’t take one step into it. She waited, shivering, for her sister.
A moment later the front door opened and Lisa came out.
“I’m sorry you had to leave.” Monica’s voice cracked. “I feel like an idiot. This is exactly why I never want to go anywhere.”
Lisa took her arm and led her toward the car. “It’s okay if you need to leave early. That’s better than never even trying to go anywhere. The important thing today is you really tried. Both Mom and I are so proud of you.”
And now the tears spilled over. “Damn, Lisa. You’re too nice. You make me feel like a shit for ever being snotty to you.”
“Little sisters are always snotty to big sisters. I think it’s a rule.”
The car ride home was quiet. Lisa had the sense to let Monica rest in silence. When they reached the house, she walked Monica to her front door and hugged her goodbye. “You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”
“No. I’m good. I want to lie down for a while. Thanks for picking me up today. Bridal showers are such fun, especially the games.”
“I know, and you made me miss the ‘create a wedding gown out of toilet paper’ portion of the day.” Lisa laughed with her. “See you later, hon.”
Inside, Monica collapsed on the couch, exhausted from fighting her panic. She considered calling Ryan and canceling the evening’s plan. That would be the smart thing to do. If she couldn’t handle the stress of a simple party, how did she think she was going to survive something as daunting as a threesome?
But maybe the release a wild night of sex would give was exactly what she did need. She’d meet the other guy and decide later whether to play out the fantasy. But if nothing else, she knew s
he wanted to see Ryan.
Kicking off her shoes, she drew her feet up on the couch and lay down to take a nap in preparation for the evening.
Chapter Ten
On his afternoon break at the construction site, Ryan sipped a cup of coffee and rubbed his shoulder, which was sore from hammering. His phone rang and he checked the ID. It was Rose Arbor. The administrator informed him Gram had collapsed. An attendant had found her on the floor of her room and she’d been taken to the hospital.
Ryan explained the situation to the foreman, jumped into his car and peeled out of the drive. His heart raced as he drove to St. Martin’s Memorial. He thought of everything his grandmother had done for him, how she’d mothered him when his own mother hadn’t been able to, and prayed he’d be there in time to be with her if this was the end.
But when he checked in at the emergency room, the situation turned out to be less dire than it had sounded over the phone. Gram’s body had reacted aversely to the antibiotic she was on for her infection. By the time Ryan saw her, she was awake and alert, although still lost in time.
He leaned to kiss her cheek and she called him Aaron and asked how Becky was. He told her Becky was just fine and asked if there was anything he could do for her. She plaintively begged for a candy bar and he promised to get her one if the doctor approved.
The on-call doctor said he’d like to keep her overnight for observation, but she could probably return to Rose Arbor in the morning. Ryan’s heart sank as he imagined the cost of an overnight stay. Medicare was Gram’s only insurance and her small pension had long since been depleted. He didn’t know how well-covered this stay might be.
An orderly transferred Gram from the ER to a room while Ryan went to the gift shop in search of a candy bar for her. He spent two hours sitting with her and listening to her alternately talk about events from her past and sit silently staring straight ahead at nothing. Spending time with her was more exhausting than all the hours he’d put in at the construction site. At least she seemed to enjoy the candy bar.
When Gram finally fell sleep, a nurse gently reminded him visiting hours were over and urged him to go home and rest. Only then did he realize he’d totally forgotten about his date with Monica. He pulled out his cell phone to call her and say he’d be late, but the battery was dead. He considered finding a pay phone in the hospital, but it seemed better to simply hurry to Monica’s as fast as he could.
