Drunk in Lust
High heels click toward me and a sultry blonde unzips her dress, dropping it with a flourish onto the marble floor of the hotel suite. I immediately look away. My enflamed skin must be a close match to the crimson color of her skimpy silk thong. She flicks off the lights, then tugs open the room-darkening drapes, allowing the bright lights of the nearby hotels to fill the room with a flickering neon glow.
“You’re very sexy,” she purrs, moving in closer. I stay stone-faced. There’s a multitude of reasons why her words mean nothing to me. At the top of that long list—Amber, the half-naked woman in front of me, is on the clock. “You look tense. Should we have another drink?”
“No,” I’m quick to spit out. No drinking. A night at home with the woman I loved, two very good bottles of wine, a few shots of Fireball and an inane conversation regarding a sexual bucket list is what landed me here in the first place. Alcohol is most definitely prohibited tonight.
“Well, do you mind if I have one?” She saunters over to the minibar and bends over to sort through the expensive selection inside. She grabs a miniature bottle of Patrón and a small black box. “Vibrators in the mini bar. Vegas hotels are like Boy Scouts, they’re always prepared. This could be fun later.” She tosses a playful glance over my shoulder, pours the small bottle of tequila into a glass, and drinks it straight up.
I back toward the wooden desk, creeping behind it to protect myself from the inevitable. I just need a few more minutes. My mind whirls. This is a nightmare. One I need to wake up from. My shoulders tense as I rest my elbows on the desk and mash my hands into my forehead. Why does stuff like this always happen to me?
Amber approaches from behind and her hands press firmly into my biceps, only causing them to tighten more. She rolls the chair away from the desk, giving it a push so that it swivels, coercing me to face her. Her fingers dig into my shoulders and she spreads her legs, ready to straddle me. Nope. No straddling please. I jump up from my seat, sending her into an ungraceful stumble. “Oh, shit.” I grab her wrist to help steady her. It’s awkward and my grasp is way rougher than I anticipated. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Her words press out through tight lips. She smooths her hair, taking a breath before forcing a smile back onto her face. “A lot of people are nervous their first time.”
My first time. Jesus Christ. She makes it sound like I’m a virgin. And I guess I kind of am. Not to sex… but to this.
“Here, come with me.” She tugs on my collar, dragging me away from my safe place and over to the edge of the bed. Saliva builds in my mouth, nearly choking me as she pushes me to a seated position. Amber kneels in front of me, yanks off my shoe, and tosses it recklessly behind her. I stare longingly at the place where it lands. I want that shoe back. How the hell will I be able to run the fuck away from here without that shoe?
Jesus Christ. It was just a joke. Too much wine and drunken fantasies over pillow talk. I don’t actually want to be here. I don’t actually want to do this. And I should have said so the second the ridiculous discussion of fulfilling our sexual bucket list was brought up.
But I guess I didn’t think she was serious; either that or I have no fucking balls whatsoever. I reach down and adjust my shriveling sac through my jeans. Nope, I have ’em. I just need to figure out how to use them. I mean, I have a fucking ring, for Christ’s sake. I want to marry Holly, spend the rest of my life with her. The last thing I ever wanted was to be here, sitting on this bed, curling my toes in fear at the touch of another woman being paid to fake an hour of pleasure.
“You ready for this?” Amber coos, scraping her acrylic nails across my heel as she removes my sock. No. I’m not ready. I will never be ready. “Okay, sweetie, why don’t you start unbuttoning his shirt so we can get this sexy man out of these clothes?”
A shaky breath comes from behind and the mattress underneath me moves as she inches her way over. Her fingers tremble as they run uneasily over my shoulders. I can’t turn and look at her even though I know she wants me to. This is fucking crazy. I can sense from her uneasiness that she wants me to give her some reassurance. But this is killing me and I can’t.
Amber finishes undressing my feet. She looks to the woman still frozen behind me and sniffs out a giggle. “Come here, gorgeous,” she instructs, reaching out a hand. “Why don’t we get things started?”
I close my eyes, willing this all to end. This was her idea. Not mine. I’m doing this for her. But is this what she really wants? How can it be? What if it isn’t? I need to speak up. Say something before this goes too far. Make it stop.
But when I open my eyes, it’s too late. There stands a hooker kissing my beautiful girlfriend, Holly.
The Panic Room
She’s taller than me and her nipples mash into the top of my chest as she cradles my head and her tongue sloshes into my mouth and slurps. Ew. I’m hit with the bitter taste of Patrón on her tongue. At least I’m thankful that the alcohol may be killing any germs.
With a shaky giggle, I detach myself from Amber’s mauling kiss and glance over at Matthew, nervously awaiting what I’m sure will be a horntastic response.
He sits on the edge of the bed, hands folded, eyes fixed on the mosaic pattern built into the floor. Even when I clear my throat, hoping to coax his gaze up, he doesn’t budge. Is it me? Am I screwing this up? Shit. Can he tell how much I hate this?
Damn that drunken night and that stupid-ass fucking list. It was just talk. I’ve never had a threesome. Imagine what it would be like. But then, as usual alcohol had loosened my tongue and my dirty mouth began to spew out the filth. Maybe we could get a blonde to join us… or a redhead. We could suck your dick at the same time. Would you like that, Matthew? She could play with my tits while I ride you.
Me + Booze = Instant whore. Too much wine had me writing fraudulent checks all night, checks the Bank of Holly would never actually cash.
Or so I thought.
But that night the whorish dirty talk had led to sex so hot, I thought for sure we had melted the steel frame of Matthew’s bed. The idea of a threesome was clearly at the top of Matthew’s unfulfilled fantasies. And whereas I know most women would just roll their eyes and be like, sorry pal, those days are done… I can’t.
Matthew has a ring.
I saw it. By accident. Well, sort of by accident. Giving your girlfriend the key to your apartment and then running late from work as often as he does entitles a girl to a little harmless snooping. Doesn’t it?
And now that I know, I’m thrilled. Beyond excited. He is most definitely the one. I can’t wait to be his wife and live my happily ever after with him. He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.
I’m Matthew’s first and only girlfriend. He had sex in college with a girl he felt nothing for, but other than that, it’s me. Just. Me. He hasn’t played the field, sowed his wild oats, dipped his wick in some strange. How can someone be ready for marriage with so little experience behind them? I mean, my experiences along the way weren’t the greatest but at least I have experiences.
Thanks to my high school boyfriend, I know that a chode is a peen that is wider than it is long. And in college, I became acquainted with a variety of peens—an anteater (an intact peen, otherwise known as uncircumsized), a pencil dick (pretty sure that’s self-explanatory), and I learned firsthand that VBR stands for veiny blood rod (you don’t want to know). Then enter my early twenties where my ex, Tyler, introduced me to his leaning tower of peen. No matter what angle I looked at it, that thing was always struggling to stay up straight.
Basically, I’ve kissed enough frogs to know that I’ve finally found my prince. But what about Matthew? Does he need to kiss a few more frogettes before knowing for sure that I’m really the one for him?
Amber’s soft hands drag up my sides, ushering me back into the horrifyingly awkward moment. I shudder, but for a much different reason than what she’s going for. I own it and let out a gentle purr of false delight for Matthew’s benefit. Was that believable? Her nails scrape across my skin until one of her fingers hooks under my bra strap, tugging it down. I clear my throat, hoping to encourage Matthew to look up, to take in this sultry striptease that has my skin crawling so that he can enjoy it. His eyes flicker up briefly then his head drops back down. Fuck. It’s me. I need to bump up my enthusiasm. Make this more believable. This is what Matthew needs. Without it, I’m afraid one day there’ll come a time when he looks back and wonders, possibly even regrets.
“Do you prefer to join us or stand back and watch?” Amber calls over to Matthew, who doesn’t answer. There’s a tug at my bra and it springs open, freeing my breasts. In a panic, I instinctively grasp at the lacy fabric and press it against my chest before I’m exposed. “Aw, what’s the matter? Are you shy too?” Amber teases, gently trying to pull at the bra being held firmly in my balled-up hands. “Or maybe you’d just prefer to be the one to watch while I go over and seduce your handsome man.”
My handsome man.
What the hell am I doing?
No. No. No. For what was supposed to be a fantasy, this just got real. Too real.
“I… I can’t,” I stutter, holding on even tighter to my unfastened bra. Matthew looks up and his eyes connect with mine for the first time all night. “I’m so sorry. I want to do this for you but I don’t think I can.” I run into the bathroom before I can see Matthew’s disappointment, slamming the door and locking it. I snap my bra back into place, turning my back to the mirror over the vanity, unable to face my reflection. The toilet seat is down and I collapse on top of it, hanging my head in my hands. Why does stuff like this always happen to me?
“Holly?” The bathroom doorknob jiggles. “Let me in.” It jiggles again harder.
“No,” I say weakly. Even my voice is pathetic.
“Let me in. Right now!” I snap my head up at the urgency in his demanding tone. Matthew rarely raises his voice. I unclick the lock and open the door a crack.
“Quick, move, move, move, let me in.” Matthew pushes firmly on the door, making me stumble, and quickly squeezes in, slamming the door behind him and clicking the lock. “Holy shit.” His handsome dark features have gone ashen gray. “What are we doing? How the fuck do we get out of this?”
“Get out of this? You don’t want to do this?”
“Noooooooo.” He drags out the word dramatically.
“Why? Because this is fucking insane! How did we end up here?” He frantically paces the bathroom. “Why did I agree to this?” he says more to himself than to me. “Am I that whipped that I’ll just do anything you say? I’m sorry, Holly.” He stops and faces me. “I’m just not a threesome kind of guy and if this is something that you need, well then, I… I… I….” He drops his head, shoulders slouching forward, and tugs at his thick hair. “I want to be able to give you everything that you need. But if this is what you need, I don’t know what I’m gonna fucking do.”
“What I need? No, it’s not what I need at all.”
“Then what the hell are we doing here? Why did you arrange for all of this?”
“Because I thought it was what you needed.”
“What I needed?”
“Yes. I thought that maybe you needed to fulfill some of your sexual fantasies before—” I stop, slamming my lips together tightly to silence myself.
“Before… um, before deciding if you were ready to spend the rest of your life with just one girl.” I play with my hands and drag my foot sheepishly across the tiled floor.
“What?” He shakes his head, squishing his eyebrows together. “One girl?” The confusion on his face lifts as he puts the pieces together. I just blew my cover. He realizes I must know about the ring in his sock drawer. “Holly, is that what this is? That’s crazy. I don’t need to live out any wild fantasies to know that I’m ready for just one girl.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I love you.” His face stretches into a grin that quickly fades. “But am I not enough for you? Do you need more? Am I not good at… things?”
“I love you too. I don’t need more. I just thought maybe you did.” I’m speaking fast, tripping over my words. “And are you kidding me? Of course you’re good, better than good, brilliant, fantastic, a fucking va-genius.”
“Holly, I love you and no other girl or experience that I could ever have would ever change my mind. You are the one for me. The only one. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you.”
“You do? Really?”
“Yes. Really.” A big goofy grin spreads across Matthew’s face and a weird glint lights up his hazel eyes. He scoops up my left hand with both of his and slowly descends to one knee. “Holly,” he says.
Oh my God, is he? Holy shit, no he isn’t. Oh please, don’t.
“No!” I shout, shaking my head violently. “Get up. No. Please. No!”
“No?” The color that had finally started to return to his face is once again gone.
“Matthew, there is a hooker outside that door. We are in a bathroom,” I whisper-shout, pointing a finger at the toilet less than a foot away from us. “You can’t do it here. Not like this.” As if on cue the toilet starts running from a flush in a nearby room.
“Oh God, you’re right. What was I thinking?” His hand rakes through his hair with nervous little tugs.
My fingers graze the soft skin of his cheek. “Matthew, I love you and if we weren’t here in this ridiculous situation that I put us in, my answer would most definitely be yes.” I rise up to tiptoe and his lips come down to meet mine for a kiss. My arms swing up around his neck and he pulls me in tighter at my waist. Our kiss is sweet and tender. I pull away, looking at the striking face of the man I love. “We’re crazy, you know?”
“Oh, absolutely fucking nuts,” he says emphatically. “Two total macadamias.”
I laugh even though it really isn’t funny. “Should we be scared for the future?”
“Probably.” Matthew tips his head to the side and I cringe. “I’m kidding. Okay, so perhaps we’re not the world’s best decision makers.” I bite down on my lip. Understatement of the century. This isn’t our first bad decision; more like our hundredth. “But I think no matter how many screwups we make, one thing is always clear. We love each other. And there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do to prove that love. Including this extremely weird fucked-up situation we got ourselves into.”
My entire body shudders. “This was such a big fuckup. Probably our worst one yet.”
Matthew chuckles and pulls me to his chest. “But we survived and thankfully had enough sense to stop things before they went too far. And soon we can add it to the ever-growing list of things we’re gonna look back on and laugh at.”
“Ugh, not another list.” I groan. “But I guess we should just take these things as lessons, ones we grow from. Right? Isn’t that what couples do?”
“Absolutely. We’re still learning how to communicate. It takes time.”
“Are we gonna be okay?”
“We’re gonna be fine. Better than fine.” He kisses the top of my head and his arms hold me tighter.
I close my eyes, my muscles finally relaxing as I sink into his chest. “Thank God this is all over.”
A loud knock on the bathroom door instantly sends my body back into a rigid stance.
“Um, hello in there. I don’t know what’s going on, but I just want to let you know, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen, I still need to be paid.”
Pay the Lady
Every hair on my body stands up straight. Holly’s eyes bug out of her head, pretty much the way I imagine my own look. We were so wrapped up in our “we survived” moment that we forgot all about finishing up our little transaction on the other side of the door.
“You have to go out and pay her,” Holly squeaks, chomping down on her thumbnail.
“Me? Why me?”
“’Cause, um, ’cause…,” she searches. She better come up with something good because I’d rather walk over a bed of sharp rusty nails than go back out there. “’Cause I paid the deposit, so now it’s your turn to pay the balance.”
Fuck. That’s a valid point. I’m starting to sweat. “How much do we still owe her?”
“Two hundred and fifty.”
“Yes,” Holly says in a small voice. “I wanted to get someone good, not so… sticky. So it was five hundred for the hour.”
Five hundred for one hour, plus factor in at least another hundred for everything she ate, drank, or played with from the minibar, then tack on plane fare and the fancy hotel room…. This has certainly been one of our more pricey blunders. But I suppose all I can really do is laugh it off. What’s not done is done.
I look down at the jeans that never came off and tap my back pocket. “I have my wallet right here.” I pull it out and grab two crisp hundreds and a fifty from the fold.
“Oh good, now go out there and pay her while I wait in here.” Holly wrings her hands together. “Tell me when she’s gone and I’ll come out.”
I gulp down a lump in my throat and pause before opening the door. “You really should be the one to do it. You’re the businesswoman, and besides, you know me, I’m all awkward and weird and never know what to say.” I make an attempt to hand the money over to Holly, who squeezes her hands into fists and hides them behind her back.
“Nuh-uh. I am not going back out there.”
“This was your idea.” I try again.
“But you went along with it.”
“Holly, please don’t make me go out there.”
Another knock sounds on the door. “If you’re both that fucking chickenshit, you can just slide it under the door.” Holly and I look down and underneath the crack of the bathroom door two long fake nails squeeze their way in.
We both stare down in stunned silence.
“Do I just… like this?” I kneel down and place one of the hundreds under the two searching fingers. We watch as the bill is snatched, disappearing under the door. I place down the next hundred and then the fifty and watch as the payment is retrieved. Holding our breath, we wait anxiously for the sound of the hotel door to open and close, letting us know our transaction is completed. No door sounds, but another knock raps on the bathroom door.
“Five hundred did not include tip.”
“Tip?” I mouth to Holly in shock and she shrugs, still chomping on her nail. I begrudgingly pull out my wallet and grab a fifty.
“That’s only 10 percent,” Holly whispers.
“She didn’t do anything.”
“I know, but that’s not her fault.”
“Nope, it’s not my fault. You’re the ones hiding out in the bathroom.” Amber’s voice carries through the door and Holly and I lock eyes in a moment of terror that she can still hear us even when we whisper. “Ya know, I gotta tell ya, I’ve seen a lot of weird shit in my day but this whole hiding in the bathroom thing might be the weirdest. No one’s ever paid to hide from me before.”
Wow. Holly and I exchange wide-eyed glances, and she covers up a giggle. A Vegas hooker just told us we’re one of the weirdest things she’s ever seen. I’m almost a little proud of that. Being weird is me and Holly’s thing and I must admit, we’re very good at it.
I place the fifty back in my wallet, exchanging it for a hundred, and slide it to the two waiting fingers and watch as it’s eagerly tugged under the doorway. A few seconds later we release our breath as the heavy door to our hotel room is opened and closed. But just to be sure, we wait an extra three minutes before cracking the bathroom door open and checking for any signs of the very expensive call girl.
“I think she’s gone,” I announce, and we both emerge slowly, on guard like we’re Elmer Fudd hunting wabbits.
Once we’re sure it’s all clear, Holly runs over, double-checks the lock, and latches the chain for extra measure. With a long sigh of relief she leans back on the door and slides down to a seated position on the floor. I sink down on the floor next to her and she collapses into me.
“I love you, Holly.”
“I love you too, Matthew.” Her voice is muffled against my shirt. “We may be the world’s craziest weirdos. But we have to promise that we will never do anything that crazy again.”
“Absolutely. I promise.”
We both let out an unsure, shaky laugh. With our track record, we know keeping that promise is going to be nearly impossible.
No… what the hell am I thinking? Not nearly impossible. Completely impossible.
I pull Holly in, closing my eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. The tension slowly starts to leave my body now that we’ve safely escaped disaster. Well—except for the fact that I almost proposed in the bathroom. My eyes fly back open. What the hell was that?
Holly deserves so much more. Roses, champagne, doves, a hot-air balloon ride, an orchestra, Justin Timberlake serenading her… no, scratch that one, I can’t have anyone known for being sexy distracting her from saying yes, but the bottom line is—I need something epic….
And I need to do it soon.