7. The Bag
Chapter 7
The Bag
J ason
“Only nine hours for a five-hour drive. Not bad, right?” I opened the door and brought the pack of water bottles straight to the refrigerator while Rose followed me in with her backpack and our fast-food haul.
“It could’ve been worse. Bathroom?”
“There’s a half-bath right here.” I pointed to the room on the left. “And a full bath in the bedroom.”
She flipped on the light to the half bath off the living area, and I went back to the car for our bags, bringing hers into the bedroom. The lavender air fresheners had run out a long time ago. I opened the patio door to let some fresh air through the screens and pulled the plastic off the sofa bed. Mom was fastidious when she packed the condo up every season.
After dinner, I pulled the bedding from the vacuum bags Mom had everything stored in and threw a few pillows and sheets on the sofa for me. Rose was curled up there watching the news, but I was ready to go to sleep. I dug into my bag—where was my toothpaste? Oh, that’s right. I ran out this morning and was supposed to get more today. I rifled through all the drawers and cabinets in both bathrooms. No luck.
I popped my head back out into the living room, and she looked up from her phone. “It made landfall in Grand Isle.”
“That sucks. Those poor people get it so bad every time. Hey, can I borrow your toothpaste? I forgot I’m out.”
“Sure. It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”
I sat her bag on the bed. Square angles jutted everywhere underneath the duffle’s thick fabric. What did she have in here? I checked both sides—no front pocket. Maybe she meant the inside front pocket? I unzipped the bag. It was full of…boxes. Through the clear plastic of the top one jutted the unmistakable column of a glittery pink dildo. I tried to hold my composure, but then I saw its name: The Cosmic Dick of Glory.
I laughed nervously to myself. What the fuck?
Transfixed, and more than a little aroused, I took the Cosmic Dick and other boxes from the bag—furry black handcuffs, an inflatable pillow whose box was covered with genderless stick figures having sex in more positions than I understood. A long purple vibrator dubbed the Velvet Plum Marvel with some kind of piece sticking out the side, something that looked like a ring—a cock ring, according to the box. A bunch of other things I couldn’t name but was pretty sure were also sex toys.
“Hey Jason, do you wanna watch a movie?”
Shit. My face heated up as it dawned on me—I took the wrong bag. Her mom had something to do with this, for sure. Maybe these were the ones the movers were meant to have?
I shoved the boxes back inside the bag and zipped it up halfway, but then stopped. Rose was cool. She’d understand, right?
I pulled the Velvet Plum Marvel vibrator and the Cosmic Dick boxes back out. Struggling to keep a straight face, I walked into the living room with one in either hand.
“Um, Rose? I’m no expert, but I don’t think anything in that bag is toothpaste.”
She looked up, and all the color drained from her face. She crossed the room like a panther and snatched them from my hands.
“Oh my God! How? I told you to grab the purple bag!” She pushed past me into the bedroom.
All of my amusement evaporated. “That was the purple bag! The only other one was gray.”
“No, Y chromosome, this is maroon. The other one was lavender— purple .” She shoved the items back in and zipped the bag up, burying her face in her hands.
“Rose, I’m—I’m so sorry. I grabbed the bag I thought you asked for. I mean it felt heavier than my bag, but I just figured you had…girl stuff in there.”
“ Girl stuff ?” Her voice rose an octave.
My face was hot. “Curling irons? Straightening…things? Aren’t those also irons? I don’t know.”
She sat primly at the edge of the bed and put her face in her hands. “No clothes, no toiletries, no underwear. But we could have all the freaky sex we wanted.” Her voice was small. “And I didn’t even want to evacuate.”
My dick rudely perked up in the middle of that sentence. “I’m so sorry, but I still think we made the right choice leaving.” I sighed at my own stupidity. “There’s gotta be a 24-hour store somewhere nearby. Text me what you need, and I’ll go get it right now.” I grabbed my sneakers and sat beside her, slipped one on, tying it.
She put her hand on my arm. “No, it’s fine. You drove all day, and it’s so late. I’ll get what I need in the morning.”
I bumped her shoulder. “I’m really, really sorry. And hey.” I tugged on her sleeve. “You have a clean Deck Daddy shirt, at least.”
She managed to smile. “True.”
How to lighten this situation? “Truth or dare?” I asked quietly.
She laughed nervously. “With that bag in the room, I’m kind of afraid to take the dare.”
“Oh come on! I wouldn’t—”
“Truth,” she said firmly.
“Would you like to borrow some of my clothes?”
She laughed out a breath she’d been holding. “To answer that question, no, I’m good. To answer the question I thought you’d ask, some of my friends signed me up for a sex toy of the month club for my last birthday, and my mom gives away all the duplicates she—”
“Rose, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. At all.” But now I wanted to know if her friends had done it as a joke. “But they weren’t being mean or anything, right? Like my brother—well, that’s how I currently have a Deck Daddy monthly calendar hanging in my office.”
She laughed. “No. They just know I like…never mind.”
I desperately wanted to know the end of that sentence, but she looked too tired and tried for me to pursue it now. “Look, I’m gonna get changed for bed, and I’ll leave a clean pair of shorts on the counter, in case you want them. And the room’s yours. I’ve got the sofa bed.”
She stood up. “No, no. It’s your parents’ condo. I’ll be fine on the sofa.”
“Absolutely not. I left your bag behind, and you solved my community room problem. I want you to sleep like a queen.”
“Thank you,” she said in a small voice.
“Of course.” I got up and went toward the door.
“Hey Jason.” Her eyes were mischievous when I stuck my head back in. “Asking for a friend. Where can I get a Deck Daddy calendar?”
Her gaze tugged at mine like a physical thing, all dark eyes and thick lashes. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, and I forgot how to speak.
A corner of her lips tugged up. “I could use one for my workroom. Y’know, like how mechanics hang up calendars with swimsuit models?” Her eyes sparkled with held-back laughter.
Several unwordlike noises sputtered out of my mouth, ending in “yeah, sure”—which didn’t answer her question at all—and I ducked out of the room.
Rose
I must’ve finally fallen asleep, because I woke up from one of my recurring can’t-find-a-suitable-toilet dreams needing to pee.
I climbed out of bed and twisted my black denim shorts the right way again. They’d been cutting me in half. While I washed my hands after availing myself of the facilities, I eyed up the soft, stretchy-looking athletic shorts Jason had left for me on the counter.
I had my new Deck Daddy shirt on, so I might as well complete the look. Slipping them on was as much of a relief as taking my bra off at the end of the day. Why had I tortured myself when I was aggravated with him for bringing the wrong bag?
Especially when he’d been so apologetic.
The soft blue light of his phone lit up the living area through the open slit of the bedroom door. The time on my phone said it was just after two in the morning. I’d barely slept at all.
I walked out into the living room. He looked up from the sofa bed, his face and bare chest bathed in blue light from his phone. “Hey, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“No, my bladder did. And I’m thirsty.”
He chuckled. “Water’s in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Cold bottle acquired, I sat beside him on the sofa. He leaned his phone toward me so I could see too. The storm was moving through the New Orleans area, so there wasn’t much news yet. Everyone who stayed was hunkered down waiting for it to pass and praying it wouldn’t cause too much damage.
“Can’t sleep, either, huh?”
He rubbed his hand across his short beard, which was a little shaggier since this morning. “No. Now that I’m a homeowner, this freaks me out a whole lot more than it used to.” He snapped his phone off, casting the room into the yellow light from the kitchen. “Want to watch a movie?” He turned on a lamp and knelt before the TV stand, opening the doors and pulling out stacks of DVD cases. “Jeez, my parents have shitty taste in movies.”
I laughed, coming to kneel beside him. “It can’t be that bad.”
He snorted. “ Speed 2 . Baby Geniuses . Left Behind . Look Who’s Talking Now ?”
“OhmygoshMSTK3000!” I grabbed it up from the pile.
“Oh yeah, I love these guys. Viking Women and the Sea Serpent. Perfect.”
I curled up on the sofa bed while he started the movie. He tossed me one of his pillows before flopping down right next to me, wafting the clean, masculine scent of his body my way. He’d left his deodorant on the counter earlier, one of those Manly Old Spice deodorants with a ridiculous name, like DragonSteed or SeaDeity. I’m not too proud to say I took a whiff of it before bed then spent some time combing through his photos for crotch shots. I thought for sure there’d be a curve or a bulge that would satisfy my imagination. But less than ten disappointing photo zooms later, I closed the app and laid there too revved up to sleep for a while.
And now, sitting this close to all that inviting bare skin was extremely distracting. But before long we were laughing together at the robots’ jokes. We both kept jockeying for a more comfortable position, and we finally laid with our heads close together, sharing commentary on the movie.
“Don’t you wonder how some of these movies got made?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he laughed, his deep voice close to my ear. “They’re so ridiculous.” Long minutes passed while the Viking women tried to free their men from the overlord. “Rose, can I ask you something? And if you don’t want to answer it, just tell me to fuck all the way off.”
His face was only a foot away from mine, and his big brown eyes sparkled in the flickering light from the TV. But he wasn’t looking at me.
“Okay.” My heart rate sped up.
“Actually, two questions.” He licked his lips and pulled at the inseam of his shorts as if giving his package breathing room. “What’s a cock ring? And do I need one?”
I cackled and sunk a little closer to him on the sofa.
He laughed stiffly, his smile not reaching his eyes. “Don’t laugh! I was afraid to Google it and see something I couldn’t unsee. You don’t have to answer if it’s weird that I asked.”
“No, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard.” The MSTK3000 bad guys were locking Joel up again, and the bad movie resumed. “It’s a sex toy—a ring that goes over a guy’s cock, like at the base? They can be used just for fun, but they can also help men with erectile dysfunction.”
“Well I don’t have that problem,” he proclaimed loudly, in true proud male fashion.
I snorted. “Of course not.”
“So when you say just for fun, do you mean like, flying solo or with a partner?”
“Either. Both. Some vibrate, and some are designed with ribbed surfaces for clitoral stimulation. Which is nice, because most people with a vagina can’t achieve an orgasm through penetrative sex alone.”
His eyebrows rose and came together. This was clearly new information for him. “Really. So they need…”
I raised my eyebrows. “Clitoral stimulation,” I supplied, nodding my head.
He shifted uncomfortably and only glanced once at my eyes. “Yeah. That.”
“If you can say penis, you can say clitoris. It’s just a body part. In fact, it’s a lot like a penis.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Seriously! It’s made of the same erectile tissue.”
He pulled his pillow closer. Adjusted his shorts around his package again. I tried to see what was going on down there, but the shadows foiled me. Curses.
“But it’s a lot smaller, though, right? I mean…”
I stared at him. “You think a clit’s just that little nub, don’t you?”
He raised his eyebrows and finally met my eyes. “It’s not?”
“Oh poor, sweet summer child.” I grabbed my phone and started sending him links. “There’s an artist—Sophia Wallace. You need to watch her TEDx Talk because you obviously know nothing about the clitoris. The love button is only the tip of the iceberg. It’s like…I don’t know, like a double-wishbone shape? It’s made of erectile tissue, just like a penis. But unlike one, clitoris owners are blessed with the ability to have multiple orgasms without a refractory period. It’s the only organ whose function is purely for pleasure. Did you know that?”
He shook his head, eyes still firmly trained on the movie while his phone vibrated with all my sex texts.
“Here. Here’s a good article on sex toys that explains how they all work, and here’s a link to a reputable shop, which has even more information. Always buy from a reputable shop and not from a massive online marketplace, because that isn’t something you want to buy used.”
His face was bright red. “That’s…a lot of information. Thank you. Fuck.” He rubbed his beard. “Now you have me worrying if I’ve ever pleased a woman, like ever.” His eyes drifted back to the TV then back to me. “I’m not a creep with all these questions. I swear.”
“You’re fine,” I sighed, flopping back into my spot. “They don’t exactly teach this stuff in school. A lot of people go their whole life without knowing what their own clitoris looks like or what to do with it. There’s no way their partners can intuitively know what to do with it, either. Not that I have one. A partner, I mean. I have a clitoris.”
“Hey.”
I met his eyes. They were so big, and so brown, and so close to mine. Like his tempting lips.
“I’m sure there’s a great guy out there for you, probably even closer than you think.”
His eyes dropped to my lips, and my heart backflipped against my throat. Did he even know he did it? He immediately went back to laughing at the robots like nothing happened while I was trying to down-girl my heart back inside my rib cage. I settled in to watch the movie, but it was a long time before my pulse calmed down.
I dreamt I was having an orgasm so hard it woke me up. My eyes fluttered open. I was a little spoon. Jason lightly snored behind me, unmoving, but his thick arm had my back pulled to his front. His hand laid softly over my belly, and his massive erection pressed against my bottom, warm through our clothes.
My skin tingled all over. That orgasm hadn’t been a dream. Through an effort of will unlike any I thought I possessed, I managed to not squirm back against him and pull his hand to my breast.
Goddamn, he felt so good .
But he didn’t think of me that way. He’d be so embarrassed if he knew, especially with his vow of celibacy. Slowly, I pulled my hips forward to break the contact, but the movement woke him.
He stirred, his hand slipping across my stomach as he turned away from me. His whole body tensed, most likely at the exact moment he realized.
His hips jerked back. “Morning.”
I sat up and stretched. “Morning.”
“Everything okay?” he asked tentatively.
I turned to smile at him. “Yeah, I’m just— up now.” I giggled and stood up.
“Wait, what? Christ, Rose, I’m so sorry,” he slurred sleepily. “I don’t have any control over my body when I’m asleep.”
I didn’t respond, just laughed as I walked away.
“Roooose,” he called softly, dragging out the long “o” in my name.
“Yeeees,” I called back, grabbing my phone. It was nearly eight in the morning, so surely there was some news about home by now. I tapped my way to our local station’s website on the way to the bathroom.
“I’m really sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
I shut the door. “I never said I didn’t like it,” I called out, giggling.
“Wait, what?” His muffled voice carried through the door.
“I said, ‘I know you can’t control it!’” I cackled and watched the live newsfeed while I peed.
“What’s going on with the storm?” Jason asked as I came out of the bathroom. He was packing up his sofa bed, still shirtless. He must be severely allergic to shirts.
Guess we’re not gonna talk about his giant boner against my ass. How big was that thing? It was gonna be all I could think about today. “Nothing good. A huge electrical tower fell into the Mississippi River. Most of New Orleans has no power, and they don’t expect it to come back for a week, or more.”
“Oh damn, seriously?” He pulled out his phone, tapped a number, and put the phone to his ear. “My landline’s ringing, but the answering machine’s not picking up. Yeah—we don’t have power.”
I tapped over to another screen. “Entergy’s outage map shows all red, all around the church. It was mostly a wind event, but it flooded in lower-lying areas. Trees are down all over the metro area, and I-10’s shut down in both directions on either side of the city. This is the worst.” I flopped my head back dramatically onto the sofa.
“Maybe, or maybe you’re looking at it the wrong way. Ever hear that saying that the difference between an ordeal and an adventure is attitude?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Says the man with clean underwear.”
“Come on.” He stood by the sofa and stretched his hands out to me. “Get up, get your shoes on, and let’s get breakfast. Then I’m taking you shopping and buying you some clothes.”
I took his hand and let him help me up. “I guess you have a point. But you don’t have to buy me anything.”
“No,” he insisted, his hand gently rubbing his mountainous, lickable stomach. I snapped my guilty gaze from his belly up to his eyes.
A soft smile lit his face as if he’d caught me. “I grabbed the wrong bag. This is on me.”
We gorged ourselves at the Donut Hole on pancakes and bacon, then went shopping for clothes. Going shopping with a food baby in my belly wasn’t the best plan, but I was able to find most of what I needed at an outlet mall in Destin—a pack of panties, a couple of shirts, and a comfier pair of shorts. Jason also talked me into a sundress and a pair of sandals for the beach, and then he pulled me into a swimsuit store full of tiny scraps of fabric posing as swimsuits.
I flipped through a rack of one-pieces, studying their construction. I’d always wanted to sew myself a swimsuit, something cute and retro, but with more coverage and support than these. No cups? No way. My boobs were way too big for that bullshit. I selected a few decent ones and a cover-up to try on.
Jason grabbed a pink, rose-patterned bikini off the rack and held it up to me. “What about this one?”
I took it from him and hung it right back up. “I don’t wear bikinis.”
“Why not? It would look great on you.”
The woman looking at suits on the other side of the fixture smiled and our eyes met briefly. I’m sure Jason and I looked like a couple with him carrying my bags, and we maybe even sounded like one with his encouragement.
“You’re very sweet,” I said quietly, “but I’m not comfortable with my weight. I’d rather be in a one-piece.”
He frowned, leaning an arm on the rack. “Well look, if you want, I’ll help you get beach-ready.”
“Mmm-hmm.” If he started mansplaining how to get in shape, I swear to God. Even the raised eyebrows on the woman across from me warned, you’re on thin ice, bucko .
I went to the next fixture over, but Jason followed me. “You know how to get a beach body, right? First, you have a body, and then—this part is critical—you go to the beach.”
My eyes met the woman’s, and we both smiled and shook our heads. Mollified, for now.
“I’m still not getting a bikini, funny man.”
“I’m serious, Rose. You’re so beautiful just the way you are.”
My cheeks heated, and I couldn’t meet his eyes. He was so free with compliments. He was probably that way with everyone. But it sent a thrill to my core every time he complimented me.
“By all means wear what makes you comfortable. Just don’t hide your light under a bushel or whatever.”
“Jason,” I said sotto voce, “my stomach sticks out too much for a bikini.”
His brown eyes studied me. “Why do you care what other people think?”
He was right, but I cared what he thought.
“Besides,” he said. “You have a uterus. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”
Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows. “Now you know things about women’s anatomy?”
“Baby.” The woman across the rack leaned closer to me. “Try on that pink two-piece. Hot boy’s right.”
Jason’s answering smile was all charm and smugness. “Thank you!” He checked the tag of one of my selections then handed me the pink bikini again, this time in the right size. “Humor me?”
I rolled my eyes and took it all into the fitting room. But I was not trying on the bikini. It was nice of him to encourage me, but no way would I wear one at the beach for real.
Of the one-pieces I brought in, only one wasn’t a crime. It was on sale, too. I guess I’d let him get me that one.
I eyed the bikini. Maybe I’d try it on just so I could honestly say I’d done it, so he’d leave me alone about it. I slipped the bottoms over my undies, hefted and adjusted the girls into the bra cups. Okay this pattern was super cute. The dark pink matched one of the roses on my tattoo almost perfectly. The bottom was generously cut, more like a boy short than a bikini bottom.
Once it was on, I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw in the mirror. But I was still reluctant to actually purchase it and wear it on the beach.
“Sure, I’ll go get you another size,” the salesgirl said to the woman in the stall beside me, and then her footsteps went toward the entrance.
Maybe I’d ask her when she came back if I looked ridiculous, since the fitting room had started to clear out.
But the longer she took, the antsier I got. Was I making Jason wait too long? I examined my body in the mirror from all angles. I was either a smoke show or a smoking pile of crap.
Footsteps, and a soft knock on my door. “Rose?” Jason asked. “Find something you like?”
I slipped the cover-up on and opened the door a crack. “Don’t gloat, but I’m wearing the bikini, and I think it’s not half bad? But I was waiting to get the salesgirl’s opinion.”
“I can give you my opinion,” he grinned, dimples locked and loaded on my hormones.
“Okay,” I huffed, only agreeing because my mom treated me to a wax appointment a few days ago. “But you have to be honest. None of your smooth-talking bullshit, okay?”
“Promise,” he said.
As he popped his straw in his mouth to take a sip, I stepped back and swept off the cover up.
He eyed me from top to bottom and back again, then choked on his drink, coughing, leaning over coughing, turning red-faced.
I clenched the cover-up in my fist between my breasts. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
“I’m fine cough cough. I just…” he cleared his throat. “Goddamn. We’re getting the cover-up too, because if you cross the street in that you’re gonna cause some car accidents.”
My heart and my shoulders slumped. “Because I look like a train wreck. I knew it.”
He leaned in suddenly, his breath warm on my ear. “No, because you look like a goddess.”
He smiled as he pulled away and left, and a waterfall of shivers went down my body.