Chapter Eighteen #2
His devilish grin ignites a rush inside me. “You’re such a good girl for me.” He dips his head and nips at my breast. “Fuck, so good.”
“Max.” My voice is breathy, uncontrolled. He’s sending me back over the edge, pumping at a steady pace—in and out—so that at the peak, my skull bumps the headboard. He leans on an elbow, his hand padding the impact.
“Such a gentleman,” I say into his chest.
His lips hover by my ear. “Tell me that after I’ve made you come again.”
The sheer determination in his voice lights me up from the inside, but with every thrust, my head crushes his hand against the metal bars of the bed. “Here. Let’s switch.”
We do a clumsy tango as I guide him to the pillows and shift my weight so I’m now on top. I stroke his dick and then settle onto him with a sigh.
“Better?” I ask on a breath.
“Perfect.”
He rests a hand on one hip, gently guiding me forward and back.
The friction makes me snap like a firecracker.
He slips his other hand between us, resting his thumb on my clit, which sings with pleasure.
Max filling me up and rubbing against me is more than anything I’ve ever felt.
Having him inside me feels like the safest thing in the world, even though it’s our first time together. And our only time.
It can only be this once.
As I rock on top of his body, his expression changes to something shy, reserved. Like he thinks I’m made of crystal, and he’s afraid he might break me.
“Hey,” I say, angling forward and gripping his face, forcing eye contact. “It’s just me. Just Daisy.”
“Just Daisy.” He nods his head quickly. “Just my Daisy.”
My heart lurches. As one hand slides to my ass, his other hand pulls me toward him so I’m flush against his chest. I close my eyes as he sends me, once again, into the thrill of something explosive and sublime.
The release runs like a roller coaster—a massive burst followed by more and more ripples of euphoria that send my body shaking, gripping around him, and calling his name.
When he comes, he groans into my mouth, and I relish in more orgasm aftershocks of my own.
I hold him close and breathe in the warm, zesty scent on his skin, trying to make “just tonight” last just a little longer.
The next day, I vow to spend as little time in Gwen’s shop as possible.
I’ll drop off the monthly supply of Mirage postcards for the local businesses table and scram.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll have a swarm of customers, offering me an easy out.
With a calming breath, I open the door to a mostly empty store.
Damn it.
“Hey you, I was hoping you’d be by soon.” Gwen bags whatever crystals and incense a sole customer has purchased at the checkout counter. “Whoa.” She looks at me with wide eyes. “You are practically levitating.”
“Just dropping off postcards.” I channel cool-girl energy.
After all, last night was a onetime, no-big-deal arrangement.
Never mind that I haven’t had a single productive thought in my head longer than twenty seconds before flashbacks of Max all over me, inside me, render me useless.
At the front desk today, I answered a phone call with, “Yes, please.”
“Can’t you sense it?” She taps the person at the counter and points at me. The customer’s eyes dart back and forth, like he doesn’t quite understand what she means.
“I should head out,” I say, averting my gaze.
“Oh no you don’t.” Gwen clasps the man’s hands in hers and smiles.
“Thank you for coming in. I hope these bring you the peace you’re looking for.
” She ushers him out of the store to block me from sneaking out.
The dainty chime on the door is cheerfully ominous.
“Good news for The Mirage?” she asks, a glimmer of optimism in her voice.
I shake my head, almost ashamed that my orgasm high made me forget about everything with the hotel.
“Freddie’s tests came back negative?”
I busy myself with flyers to avoid eye contact, arranging a pink pyramid-shaped rock on top of the stack. “No, we don’t have an appointment for another couple months.”
“Then what?” she squeaks. “You float in here like a goddess, your aura all shiny and bright, and you’re not gonna give me anything?”
If I share what happened, then the night seems more real, more serious—which it most definitely isn’t. I love Gwen to the stars and back, but she doesn’t need to know that Max Weber gave me multiple orgasms last night.
“I got a good night’s sleep. You must be picking up on my restedness.”
She says nothing and just lifts an eyebrow.
“Look, I should get going. Love you.” In a swift movement, I hug her and give her a peck on the cheek as I hurry out, and I pray she’ll let this go. I expect joking threats that I can’t avoid her forever, but instead, she wails a cry that stops me in my tracks.
“Gwen.” I scramble back to her side as her face contorts, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Ohmygod.”
“Hormones,” she blubbers. “The baby’s making me super emotional lately.
But we’ve…” She hiccups through a thick sob.
“You and I have barely seen each other, and I can tell something is going on, and you won’t share it with me, and there is so much about having a baby that Bob does not understand because of his stupid penis, and I know you’re busy, but I’m busy too, and I’ve got a literal human in me that craves fettuccine alfredo all the time, even for breakfast, and I miss you. ”
“Aw, Gwen.” My heart cracks, and I embrace her as she leaks snot and tears onto my shoulder. These past few weeks, I’ve been so preoccupied that we’ve barely texted. My best friend is going through an enormous life change, and I almost walked in and out of here without even asking how she’s doing.
“I miss you too,” I say, rubbing her back in circular motions. “I’m sorry I upset you.”
She sniffles, pulls back, and grabs my hands. “You could make it up to me by telling me what’s up.”
“Are you legit using your pregnancy to blackmail me?”
“You’re going to deny a crying pregnant lady’s wishes?”
I might not believe in the mystical powers of gemstones and auras, but my best friend has a knack for knowing when the vibe is off. She’s bound to find out at some point.
“Fine,” I concede. “But Gwen, you…promise me you’ll stay calm. And you can’t talk about this with anyone.”
“Yes and yes. Girl Scout’s honor.”
“And you know it’s really weird how you’re able to do that.”
“What?”
“Whatever aura, vibey shit you do.”
The familiar chime of the door sounds again, the delicate ring spreading a joyful grin across my friend’s face.
“Welcome in.”
“Hi. Oh, hi!” Dawn registers me and waves. “Got your message about speech prep. Happy to help. And I’ve been talking to local businesses all day for our project. Also, you are glowing.”
“Thank you,” Gwen replies, cradling her still-flat belly.
“Wait, you’re pregnant?”
They both let out uneasy chuckles.
“Uh, yeah. I am.”
“Well, you’re both glowing, then.”
My best friend examines me closer, and heat travels up my neck. “Your skin’s all dewy,” she says, “and you have this natural blush thing going on. Did you get a massage?”
“No,” Dawn says, “that’s the face of someone who got dicked down.”
Gwen’s head whips to me, and her eyes bulge. “You did not.”
“Before we jump to any conclusions—” I say, but Gwen cuts me off.
“You had sex with Max?”
“Hello?” I gesture to Dawn, whose mouth forms a scandalized O shape. “What part about not talking about this with anyone did you forget?”
“Ugh, sorry.” She covers her face as if she can hide from the mistake.
“An orgasm would explain the glow.” Dawn nods in approval. “Good for you.”
“No, not good,” Gwen says to Dawn. “There is a lot of baggage with him.”
“We don’t need to discuss my baggage. Just because not all of us were lucky enough to find our life partner like you have, doesn’t mean—”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She puts her hands in prayer position, resting her fingertips against her lips. “But Max? Max. The same Max you hopped on a—”
“Things have changed since eight years ago.”
“Hang on.” Dawn steps between us and holds up her hands like an MMA referee. “I don’t want to get in the way, so I can leave. But if I’m going to stick around, I’m gonna need a drink.”
And this is how I end up sitting at a table used for tarot readings in a dim back room of Gwen’s store, with her on one side and Dawn on the other.
Flickering candles with earthy, spicy scents make the space feel mysterious yet comfortable.
The crystal shop has wine and sparkling grape juice for special events, so we’ve each got a glass as we perch on floor pillows.
After I fill them in on last night, Gwen holds her juice, mouth gaping. Dawn, on the other hand, giggles into her wine.
“Multiple orgasms and pepperoni pizza after?” Dawn sighs wistfully. “Some women really can have it all.”
Maybe it’s the buzziness of my second brimming glass of pinot—or that I just shared every detail of my sex life—but I am so glad she’s here to balance out Gwen’s protectiveness.
“He knew what he was doing then?” Dawn asks.
“Mhmm.” I smile at Dawn, then at Gwen, who appears to be processing everything. “You’re awfully quiet.”
She sighs. “I never would have pinned Max Weber as a dirty-talking type.”
“People can surprise us.”
“I’m not surprised one bit,” Dawn says. “He seemed into you. Buy a collar and teach that man to bark on command. Woof woof, baby.”
“He was a complete simp for her in high school.”
“You should fuck him again,” Dawn says flatly, pouring us both more wine before filling Gwen’s glass up with juice.
“Not happening,” I say with bravado. “We’re keeping things professional.”
“He called you a good girl, and you came on his face.” Dawn scoffs into her drink. “Good luck with that.”
“We are,” I reply, with a confidence that turns the beverage bitter in my mouth. “There’s so much riding on this pop-up. The whole point was to get it out of our systems, and we did.”
“Multiple times.” Dawn hoots and kicks up one foot.
“Are you freaking out?” Gwen asks and rests a compassionate hand on my arm. I know what she’s asking—Are you freaking out because, in case you forgot, you had feelings for him too, once upon a time?
“No.” I look right at Gwen, putting her—and maybe some of my own—concerns at bay. “I think I’ve been in survival mode with The Mirage for a while, so honestly, it was nice to do something for me.”
“I’m sure.” She searches my face. “Well, it’s not the self-care I would have planned for you, but orgasms can really nourish the second chakra. They’re good for the soul.”
“And so is getting to share all this with you. I promise to make more time with the baby on the way.”
“I won’t argue about that. So…you’ll go back to normal with him? That’s the plan?” Gwen cradles her head in her hands. I love that even when I decide on something she doesn’t entirely agree with, she doesn’t guilt me.
“You two are supposed to be working together,” Dawn says.
“And living together,” Gwen adds.
I shrug their worries away. “We’ll go on like it never happened. Simple as that.”
Last night was a lot of things. Some of the best sex of my life.
Impulsive. Insanely hot. My masturbation material for the foreseeable future.
But we agreed we’d move forward like adults, and I can do that.
Max can too…other than a few gazes this morning that lasted milliseconds too long, and one of those painfully awkward trying-to-step-out-of-the-way-but-accidentally-running-into-each-other moments in the kitchen, we’re good.
“You need to be more proactive.” Gwen taps her finger against the table. “Otherwise, someone’s feelings will get hurt. Meet in a public place and do something thoroughly unsexy so there’s no temptation to hook up again. Set a new precedent. Reiterate your ground rules.”
“Unsexy?” I ask.
“You know.” Gwen waves her hand in the air, conjuring suggestions. “Assemble IKEA furniture. Watch a war documentary. Go to the DMV.”
“That’s insane.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Dawn says as she nods her head.
“I’m Team Fuck Again, but I respect there’s history there.
And if anyone can attest—from personal experience—that mixing business and pleasure can go wrong, it’s me.
So if this guy has liked you as long as Gwen says, she’s probably right.
Make sure you’re clear on things, you know? ”
I hadn’t considered that. If I’m feeling this conflicted over what we did, I can only guess what he’s experiencing. I’d hate to toy with his emotions.
“I’m happy you got laid and that it was good,” Gwen says, nudging my knee with hers. “But this is Max we’re talking about. When the time comes to let him go, will you be able to?”
“Yes,” I insist. “He is officially out of my system.”
Just Daisy. Just my Daisy.
I try to chase the image out of my brain, but he’s all I can think about the rest of the night.