The Satyr

by Tiana Laveen

  By the time she was half way through the book, he was an adult, with far more trophies, ribbons, and medals. Incredible.

  “Martial arts.”

  She jumped when she heard his deep, booming voice, then turned around and faced him while he towel-dried his hair. His skin was wet; maybe the water didn’t want to let go of him. After all, she suffered from the same affliction. His now resting dick swung as he stepped closer. “I have studied one form or another since I was nine years old.”

  “I hope you aren’t upset that I took a look. They were sitting out, so…”

  He waved his hand and shook his head, dismissing her concern.

  When he reached her, he stood before her like some drill sergeant. Eyes darkened, lips pursed and possessiveness and power in his eyes, his expression. He flung the small towel over his shoulder, kissed her on the forehead, then reached around and pinched her ass.

  “Ouch!”

  He gave no explanation, but she knew damn well why. It was a warning about looking through his belongings – a way of telling her that he didn’t mind, but she had to be punished all the same. She rubbed her sore ass cheek while he went to look out the window. Standing there in the buff, his body became a dark outline, an amazing silhouette against the city lights.

  “I took karate as a kid, then Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and judo. Me, my two sisters and brother were encouraged at an early age to get involved in a sport, music, something. My mother didn’t play that. She didn’t want any of us not doing anything, lying around the house watching television, playing video games all day or on the phone for hours at a time after school. She didn’t want us not finding a way to express ourselves, discover our passions. So, I asked to get into martial arts.”

  “Oh, so it wasn’t your mother’s idea for you to take martial arts classes?” She took a step towards him, then another. Drawn to him as he stood so high above the world, looking down at everyone.

  “No. It interested me, but I was also the kind of kid that was fine with just riding my bike, ya know? And collect Star Wars shit…” He chuckled and shook his head, making her smile. He grabbed a remote off the desk near him and dimmed the lights in the room, then returned to the window, as if surveying his land.

  “You were a Star Wars nerd. I love it. I wasn’t into Star Wars, my brothers were, but I still demanded to go see the movies with them. Strange, huh?” He turned to her, and the light in the room caught him just right. He nodded, sporting such a gorgeous smile.

  “Not really. It was probably a way for you to bond with them, keep a connection. And now look, you have the memories. Somewhere deep inside you, you knew you needed to do that. I can’t help imagining you having been a kid that probably acted older than your age.”

  Damn. He’s right. Her father used to call her ‘little old lady,’ even though she was the youngest.

  “It’s good your mother pushed you into martial arts. You excelled. With us, though money was often pretty tight, my parents wanted us to be cultured and enriched, too. They did what they could. Museums, library visits, art shows, zoos, parades, cultural exhibitions, children’s programs, train rides, educational programs on television, and movie rentals. Best of all, every two to three years we always took a family vacation somewhere, usually by van.”

  “Yeah? Good for them… all of that. They had their priorities straight. Things like that are important. If people don’t venture out of their own comfort zone, Yasmine, leave their own town, city, get out and see the world, they grow up and become whack jobs, bigots, mental cases, shit like that.” She couldn’t say she disagreed. “They end up gumming up the jails or worse yet, wearing a badge.”

  A shiver ran down her spine. He said the words as if he knew personally about it. It was hard to not look at Nixon and know he was benefiting from privilege just from his race and gender alone. Her job required her to stare adversity, racism and disparity in the face. But him acknowledging that, in his own little way, gave her a sense of comfort that he’d never understand.

  “I used to think karate was cool, like in the movie, ‘The Karate Kid.’ Ralph Macchio was fine back in the day! That’s the only reason my sisters and I watched, to be honest.”

  She chuckled and he tossed her a glance from over his shoulder, doing the same.

  “Karate forced me out of my shell. I would occasionally get comfortable in one spot as a kid, but once she ignited that fire in me, the flame never went out. I’m an adrenaline junkie. I get high on new experiences.”

  She went to stand by his side and reached for his hand, caressed it, then loosely held it.

  Now here they were, both exposed, naked. The city lights blinked and tattooed the night skin, splashing illumination across their bodies in wickedly beautiful ways. “Started in karate, loved it, but fell even harder for Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Judo. That’s where the action was. The excitement. I like to be constantly moving, ya know?”

  “I remember you mentioning Judo over lunch. Well, my lunch and your meeting. I take it that it’s great exercise?”

  “Yes. It’s a great stress reliever, too.”

  “Well, based on what I’ve seen here, the awards and everything, you seem very good at it. Quite accomplished.”

  As if on cue, they both let go of one another.

  “I need more than that. I need to accomplish way more important things than that. I need to prove something to myself.”

  “What?” He must’ve stared at her for the longest, his brows bunched. He swallowed as if he couldn’t get the words out.

  “I need to see if I can be what you need, and still keep myself intact. Not lose myself. I like you too fuckin’ much, but I like myself, too. Like turns to love. Love changes people, not always for the best. I want to conquer you… but I wanna build you up, too. Break you, then bring out the best in you.”

  “Are you dysfunctional, warped and twisted, Nixon?”

  “Yeah… I definitely am. And so are you.”

  “How’d you get so fucked up?” She chuckled. “You don’t have the stereotypical messed up family. You’re not living in poverty. The only thing left is some woman broke your heart and now you want revenge.”

  “Nah, that’s not it, either.”

  “Never had your heart broken?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m just telling you that’s not why I am the way I am. I doubt there’s one solid reason. One incident that made me the man that I am today. It doesn’t work that way, ya know? At least not for most of us in this world.” He shrugged. “I just like what I like. My sexual proclivities have nothing to do with trauma.”

  “But we all have trauma. You said so yourself.”

  “We do. Without trauma, we wouldn’t understand the gift of normalcy. That’s just the problem though, I hate everything normal. I don’t do normal. I like enigmas, puzzles, challenges, natural disasters… like me. Like you. So either this shit is going to work perfectly between us, or it’ll be a cataclysm, leaving neither of us unscathed. Your comebacks are too funny and witty, your audacity hilarious, your smile too fuckin’ pretty, and your pussy too primo for me to turn you loose. I’m invested. I have to keep you on a short leash.” She inhaled deeply as he wrapped a hand around her neck and squeezed. When he let go, she surrendered… How sweet it was. “I have to win you over. By any means necessary.”

  “Like another black belt. Challenge accepted, right?”

  She glided away from him, giving him a moment… or perhaps the space was for her? She felt her lungs caught in a vise, her breath cut off, her heart beating so damn fast. This wasn’t bullshit. This wasn’t filler or space to fill. A void. This was real shit. A conversation to be had. Sharing. An even exchange. She walked back over to the desk and paused, seeing that the binder was still open. She closed it and placed it back where it was. As she did so, she could hear him approaching, but didn’t look up. He made his way past her, walking in his usual commanding way. She chased him with her eyes as he pulled out a drawer, found a gold lighter, and lit a
fat cigar.

  “Do you still do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Judo?”

  “Yeah, but it’s been a while. I work out in the mornings practically every day here at home. Used to prefer public gyms but it’s more comfortable taking care of it here now.” He pointed to a small area of the bedroom that she’d mistaken as a closet. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, she spotted a selection of exercise equipment.

  “I remember you telling me you like to work out.” She scanned his form. “It shows. You know what’s strange to me, though?”

  “What?”

  “You smoke, but care about your body and health. You’re a walking contradiction.” She picked up the blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her body.

  “Aren’t we all?” He shrugged as he blew out puffs of smoke.

  She plopped down on the chair, rolling over his question in her mind.

  “Yes. I agree with that.” She waved her hand in the direction of the cigar and he grinned. Walking to her, he handed it over and she took a draw then returned it to him. He stared down at her. They exhaled at the same time, the smoke they emitted rising and merging, becoming one. After a while, he rested the cigar in an ashtray on the nightstand and flopped down onto the bed.

  “Come here. Get your sexy ass in this damn bed with me.”

  She stood and did just that. He picked up a remote and clicked a button. The window opened, and the outside world came in. He then pointed the same remote towards the wall, pushed a different button, and just like in the living room, a fireplace appeared. Beautiful. Once she was beside him, he gently nudged her aside, yanked the sheets back, and allowed her more room to draw closer. They looked at one another, lying on their sides. Gliding a finger along her jawbone, he imprinted her lips with a soft, sweet kiss. The sounds of traffic and a nice breeze began to fill the room as he kissed her again, in the same gentle way. She sighed, shaking in his grip as he hooked his hand around the back of her head and slid his tongue into her mouth.

  His need and desire poured out, refuting his easygoing attitude just moments prior. Heavy breathing, husky moans, and fresh carnal desires ensued. She closed her eyes, every inch of her canvas ready, and felt the covers being flung about as he moved and shifted. She winced when he tugged on her like one would a rag doll, getting her to lie in the middle of the bed. Dragging his way down her body, he yanked her thighs apart, and the soft strands of his hair tickled her flesh.

  He’s insatiable…

  “I’m going to eat this fuckin’ pussy so good you’ll forget your name and address, and when I’m finished, you’re going to drop to your knees and suck my dick. And you won’t stop until you swallow every drop of my load.”

  Radiating with need, she arched her back, needing him in the worst way.

  Just as he curled his tongue along her bud, giving it a few good licks, a cellphone rang. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was shaken out of her horny daze. Was it his phone? Hers? He muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he crawled back up to the headboard and wrenched his phone off the dresser.

  He sat up on his knees, the sheets bunched around his waist. “What the fuck is it?” The question rolled off his tongue, the anger coating each syllable. “Yeah… for that case, he said the bail should be continued, so… mmm hmmm… Okay, in the other case there’s an issue… See, I warned you about this, Tony. That’s why I gave you a good reference for the criminal attorney. If you’d done what I asked, he wouldn’t be in this boat.” Nixon sighed and threw his legs over the side of the bed, sitting there, swinging his feet, his back towards her. “What? That doesn’t make sense. Why in the fuck would he do that? … Tell him to keep his trap shut. He shouldn’t discuss the case with anyone in the first place…Yeah… Here’s what’s gonna happen Monday, okay?

  “They’ll ask the witness to resume the stand, right? And then Kasey will be prepared… Well, if that’s true, then his attorney could ask for a continuance… Huh? Who said? What kinda crackerjack bullshit is that?! Once he admits guilt, Reece, the shit is over! It’s a wrap! …There’s no, ‘Psyche! Just kidding!’ There’s no coming back from that… But it’s the truth? Huh! Nobody gives a shit what the truth is, okay? They need someone to blame, even if it’s Mickey the fuckin’ Mouse. The question becomes, ‘Who stole the fuckin’ cheese?!’ Tellin’ them that Mickey is lactose intolerant, hates the color yellow, and wouldn’t dare do such a thing so he couldn’t do it is like sayin’ a serial killer who’s into strangulation and hates blood wouldn’t shoot someone in tha fuckin’ face if need be. Especially if they were on the verge of getting caught! Desperate times call for desperate measures… Huh? Get tha fuck outta here! I can’t believe you’re calling and telling me this shit, man.”

  He looked briefly over his shoulder and winked at her, then blew her a kiss.

  “Everyone wants revenge until it’s their loved one on the choppin’ block. Then it’s all, ‘Revenge is mine, thus said the Lord,’ and a buncha Hail Mary, full of grace… That… yes! Exactly. That is exactly right. He needs to fire this guy and call the lawyer I told you both to get before it’s too fuckin’ late. Real talk. He’s gonna get killed in the cross examination at this rate… He said what?! Who prepped him for this, anyway? Jackie Chiles from Seinfeld?! Ugh, man! You might have cause to move it to a mistrial. We’ll discuss this in the morning. I gotta go… Yeah… We can talk about this later… What now? Because I’m kinda busy right now… Doin’ what? Doin’ your wife, that’s what! Doesn’t matter what the hell I’m doin’, man. Come on, let’s go!”

  She stifled a laugh as he snapped his fingers in aggravation. She let her head fall back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, feeling a sense of comfort as the man spoke of things she fully understood. He’s from my world, just like he said… A couple minutes later, he was off the phone and lying next to her, now both of them looking up at the ceiling. Quiet filled the room.

  “A friend needing legal advice?” she cracked open the silence.

  “Yes.”

  “You get these calls often?”

  “All the time.” He yawned and slid his arm beneath his head.

  “Do you think you’re a good lawyer.”

  “Yeah. I’m a damn good lawyer, actually. You?”

  They faced one another.

  “I think I’m excellent,” she said with a wink.

  “Excellent, huh?” He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “This upcoming weekend I will see you again. We’ll go out to dinner. After that, you’ll see me again. You won’t know when or where, but I’ll pop up, and you better do as you’re told. Or else.” He was still smiling, but his words damn sure didn’t match his expression.

  “Two months of this and you think you can win me over?”

  “I already am and we’re only a couple days in…”

  She hated how turned on she was by this brutish caveman with a penchant for rubbing her the right and the wrong way. He grabbed her once again, secured her to the center of the bed, and worked his way down her body. She bristled and sighed when he resumed his place between her legs, licking slow and steady, teasing her so.

  “You’re so strange to me… but now I want to know everything about you, Nix.” She grabbed a fistful of the sheet. “These next couple of months I have truly no idea what to expect from you.”

  “That’s the whole damn idea…”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Call Me Daddy

  Nixon left the office, his heart slammed against his chest. The sun was barely visible as it disappeared quietly behind the tall concrete buildings, their rectangular, glass bones reflecting the last slivers of its rays. His keys dangled in his hand, making a strange beat in sync with his steps. The song of well-known sounds played like an old record when he opened his car door, took his seat, started the engine, and pulled away from his assigned parking spot at the law firm.

  “Call Dad.” He loosened his black tie then waited, swallowing his last nerve. Ri
ng after ring. You son of a bitch. Answer this damn phone…

  “Hello.” Nixon breathed a sigh of relief. “You musta got word that God forbid, Maria doesn’t hear from me for four fuckin’ seconds. Only hear from you nowadays when she trumps up one of her tragedies.” The raspy voice of an old man that chain smoked cigarettes for the majority of his life and lived to tell the tale crept through the car speakers.

  “Well, she worries about you sometimes. Maria said you hadn’t been answering your phone lately.”

  “Oh? I didn’t realize I had to hop to it every time she called.”

  “Dad, don’t start your shit.”

  “What shit? It’s the truth! I don’t see any of my four kids jumpin’ through hoops to answer me all the damn time! I could call you and tell ya I was slipping around in my own piss because I fell, and you’d say, ‘I never knew you were an ice skater on Golden Pond! Gotta go! Gotta go!”

  “I see you’re in the mood to twist this around and make jokes. I’m not falling for your banana in the tailpipe tricks to derail me from the main topic. YOU. When we don’t hear from you, Dad, we grow concerned.” The old man huffed as if he were hearing a bunch of gibberish. “You sorta live by yourself. Your health history isn’t exactly stellar, either. Gotta make sure you’re still alive and breathing.” He approached a red light and switched on his stereo system. Steve Lacy’s ‘Some’ started to play through the speakers.

  “I’m married. I don’t live by myself,” the old guy murmured, sounding offended.

  “Dad, Sophie is never home, all right? You may as well say you live by yourself. She’s gone weeks at a time.” Sophie was his, Maria, Tonya and Leonardo’s stepmother. She’d been with his father for a long ass time, but her career as a Marketing Director for AT&T kept her busy. “Well, since you’re fine, I’ll give Maria a call and tell her that you—”