BDSM
When Mona and I walk into the bar, we see Decker. By himself.
This scene does not compute. I haven’t seen him since he told me he was falling for me, and for a moment, my brain freezes like a buffering video.
“Did you know he was coming here?” Mona asks as we grab a table along the wall.
I shake my head, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. “No. And I haven’t talked to him in days. He had no idea this is where we planned for me to meet a potential masochist, either. If I had, I would’ve expected him to show up.”
“Why?”
“Because he saved me from my Bully date.”
“Knight in shining armor, huh?”
Yeah. He was. We’d shown up early for this date to determine whether it was worth even talking to the guy. His picture looked normal. Granted, in Fairy Tale, normal is a sliding scale.
“Look at the women walking up to Decker,” Mona hisses. “Hussies.”
He hasn’t turned around yet, and his gaze is fixed on the TVs behind the bar. As far as I know, he hasn’t noticed me yet.
“Come on, Decker. Please?” a woman I vaguely recognize begs. “I need it.”
He shakes his head, sipping his beer, but never turns his head in her direction. “No, Vanessa.”
She pouts and stomps off. And I realize with the clomping of her heels why she looks familiar. She’s been in our apartment before. Decker’s already fucked her.
“He took her home at least once,” I whisper to Mona, ducking down to avoid him seeing me when he turns his head towards the door.
“And she’s begging for a repeat, and he said no?” Mona stares at him over her shoulder like he’s on display at the zoo.
Or in quarantine because that’s the only other option for him to turn down willing sex. It’s a no-effort required hookup. Every playboy’s dream.
“I guess so.”
She crosses her arms. “And you’re still not sure he’s serious about you?”
Honestly? I wasn’t. Not until now. I didn’t want to blindly believe him when he said he hadn’t been with anyone since our shower incident. He could lie easily enough. But what reason does he really have?
Another woman sidles up beside him, leaning hard on the bar. Her push-up bra is working overtime; her cleavage is practically brushing her chin. I’m impressed she’s able to breathe.
“No thanks,” Decker says with one glance before returning his attention to the TV.
“Seriously?” she gasps. “I’m offering you a good time in the bathroom, and you’re turning me down?”
“I’ve already had you in the bathroom, remember? I’ve had better, and I’m not interested.”
Had better. Is he referring to me?
“Wait, did he just imply you’re better than her?” Mona gasps.
“I have no idea.” Then I glare at her. “And ouch!”
“Sorry, he’s just… and she’s… I’ll shut up now.”
Still, it’s a confidence boost thinking he means me. Especially when bathroom girl is basically weaponizing her breasts. Maybe he is serious about dating only me. The nagging question is: For how long, though?
“Is that our guy?” Mona nods towards the front door.
Our guy. She might’ve booked the date, but he’s here for me.
I nod, take a breath, and head over. At least if this goes south, Decker’s here. For all his flaws, I know he’d step in if I needed him to.
“Oliver?” I ask.
He smiles. “Great to meet you, Holly.”
“You, too.”
“I was hoping for better music tonight,” he says, glancing around, “but this’ll work.”
Confused, I look back to find Mona gone. I search and find her perched beside Decker at the bar, both of them watching me.
So much for stealth.
“What kind of BDSM are you into exactly?” I ask Oliver.
My heart isn’t racing from nerves of what my date may be into. It’s because Decker’s eyes are locked on me, and now my brain’s supplying shower-related flashbacks.
“Excuse me?” Oliver asks, blinking at me.
“Well, BDSM covers a range. I’m not sure where you fall on the… spectrum.”
I’m fine with light bondage with the right person, but I have zero interest in whips, floggers, or anything that sounds like medieval punishment. Not that I’m going home with this guy to find out, but I am curious to know what he likes.
Oliver still looks confused. “I don’t follow.” He waves a hand around. “I’m into this.”
I glance around, suddenly wondering if we’ve stumbled into a hidden sex club. But aside from bathroom girl’s earlier proposition to Decker, it’s just a normal hookup-friendly bar.
Then it hits me. “Oliver… what do you think BDSM stands for?”
He gives me a look that says he thinks I’m the crazy one. “Booze, dancing, and salsa music.”
I choke on a laugh. “I’m sorry—what?”
“That’s what my mom always told me. Said I couldn’t read or watch anything about it until I was old enough to drink.”
I press my hand over my mouth, my shoulders shaking.
“Oliver… I think she was trying to keep you from getting on the internet and searching it. It doesn’t stand for that.
You should probably look it up. At home.
Alone. And maybe take yourself out of this category until you know what it really means. ”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s going to be a shock. And trust me, you don’t want to discover the truth in public.”
He stands abruptly. “Right. Okay. Thanks.” Then he bolts.
I walk over to Mona and Decker, and I can’t contain my laughter. My arm braces myself on Mona’s chair as I hunch over, my sides aching. Of all the mistake dates I’ve had, this one is the best.
“What happened?” Mona asks. “How did you scare off a masochist?”
Shaking my head, I hold my stomach. “I didn’t. He didn’t know what category he signed up for.”
“How didn’t he know?” Decker asks.
“He thought it stood for…”
I can’t get the words out because I’m laughing too hard. Decker starts laughing with me, even though he has no idea how funny this really is.
“He thought it stood for… booze, dancing, and salsa music.”
“You’re lying,” Mona gasps.
I have to wipe my eyes, hoping I don’t smear my makeup because I’m laughing to the point of crying. “Nope. Hand to God.”
“Good thing he met you now,” Decker says and chuckles.
Mona’s phone buzzes, and she tilts the screen away when I try to take a look. “My hookup just texted. Gotta go.”
Hookup? She hasn’t mentioned hooking up with anyone. “Who?”
She shakes her head, avoiding my eyes. “No one.”
Decker and I watch her leave. “Weird,” I say. “She usually tells me everything. She even told me what she wanted to do to you when she first met you.”
He snorts. “Maybe it’s one of your past dates and she’s embarrassed.”
Something doesn’t feel right. “I don’t know. She’s never secretive. It has to be someone she doesn’t think I’ll approve of.”
Decker pays his tab and nods towards the door. “Can I walk you home?”
“Well, you do live there,” I tease.
We walk in comfortable silence, his hand brushing mine until he finally takes it, fingers lacing with mine. I wish the apartment would move a few blocks further away.
At our door, he leans in close, almost kissing me. A gust of wind would knock his face against mine, giving me what I crave.
“So? Made a decision yet?”
“It’s not so much who but more of an if. I’m still thinking.”
This time, he doesn’t hold back. His lips claim mine, hands moving to cup my face, and his tongue—with that amazing piercing—sweeps into my mouth, making me melt. When he presses me against the door, I can feel that I’m not the only one craving more.
Pulling back, he sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “I’ll be waiting.”
We walk into the apartment, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the bulge in his jeans. Damn him.
“Oh, by the way,” he says, smirking when he catches me staring as he stands in the doorway of his room, “flowers came for you. They’re in the kitchen.”
I nod because if I speak, I might scream I choose you!
The bouquet on the counter looks familiar.
Too familiar.
Holly,
I was shocked to see you with someone else, but I’m sorry for what I said and how I said it. Let me make it up to you? Dinner?
Ken
And the plot thickens.